The energy holding the worlds swarmed and stretched as the strings of the violin vibrated. They held the bow and the violin dispersed its pitched notes with a long resonance, disturbing and shattering the clusters of aggression crossing the Existence. Jhetro placed the bow over the strings and held them still. The high alert notes alternated with deep resonances. Under their feet the hollow of screams come in line, forming a black surface in which Jhetro’s concentration on the play was reflected even more vividly. The passion and skill held the chaos. They pinched their strings and a body emerged from the shrills of the black surface under their feet. Jhetro unglued the violin from their shoulder as if they would eviscerate them-self of a limp. The violin and the bow hung on his left as his right rolled with a hand wave of the body on the now obedient black surface.
“Evergreen.” Jhetro shook the inert shoulders. “Evergreen!” And they had their violin remaining suspended in mid-air. “Wake up.” Their concerned tone echoed in the realm between worlds. The blackness and the chaos seemed to enjoy their fear. It fed on it. The flickering violin notes holding the dark masses of energy into silence cracked. Jhetro was on their feet and the violin integrated back into their shoulder. The song was stronger and eerie, claiming dominance. The notes pierced and struck. Jhetro showed no mercy as his hand wielded the bow on the strings.
A long soprano note of the violin had Evergreen draw a breath on alert, standing in his seat, his green eyes wide open.
“Are you dead?” a voice shouted in Evergreen’s mind.
“Agh! If you scream at me like that one more time, I will be dead!” Evergreen thought, grabbing his head with both hands and grimacing.
“Does that mean that Jhetro made it there?” The voice in his brain lowered to normal intensity. Evergreen forced his head up to see Jhetro playing their violin.
“He is playing the most aggressive piece I heard from him.” Evergreen thought, pulling on his green and black hair in an attempt to ease his headache.
“This malady overruns you. We need another solution.”
“Are you coming out of your cave, then? Evergreen smirked.
“It fractured the veils between the worlds,” Jhetro said as he paused the torment of notes. “I can not bring it back here anymore.” Both of them locked their eyes in weary.
“We need to stop the spread before it eats away chunks of Existence,” Evergreen said, forcing himself on his feet. “We are mobilizing everyone,” Evergreen thought, grimacing at the vast space clustered with restless chaos.
“According to my estimation, the spread is too large for us to handle it. We will lose 53.060.400 universes.”
Evergreen gasped.
“This is the largest malady until now,” Jhetro said. “What is happening?”
“It looks like our dear Existence needs to learn to live with themselves!” Evergreen mumbled and stood back to back with Jhetro. It seemed that they would be stuck in there for a while. Both of them tensed, ready to bring the chaos back to its rhythm. “I think I will call in some favors!” Evergreen forced a smile.
The spindle went on in its rotation enveloping itself in the yarn coming out of Chloe’s delicate hands. Jaqlin found the sound of the yarn to have drawn her in, to the point that the world felt as if made of that spinning sound. Having all there is, playing and dancing on that sound and that spin. Jaqlin heard in its rhythm - the world tumbling, curving, twisting, enveloping within herself, and unfolding. The Existence’s body was sitting on its body and swimming into its body, containing itself and lacking itself. The sound of Chaos dancing a violent rhythmic dance with the Order. Hating and loving one another, being one entity and non-existent at all, at the same time. In a dimension where the time made all the sense and not at all. It was a cosmic and subatomic experience at once.
“Do you want me to teach you how to spin?” Chloe asked, her voice penetrating through the hypnotic rhythm of the spin. Jaqlin found it inexplicable. How was Chloe’s voice able to simply waltz into the body of Existence?
“Yes!” Jaqlin jumped.
Klaus snicked into the inn’s kitchen. The smell of creamy dense chocolate from the oven was all over the place. He could already taste the mushy and puffy texture of those brownies.
He made sure that no one was looking and opened the cover of the oven. With a towel he wrapped one of the brownies, taking it out from its tray. It was still too soft, not cooked enough. But he did not want to wait until they were done and fight with his father and sister over them. He rushed over to the door with a large smile on his face. He gripped the doorknob. A ‘WUSH’ and next to his head in the door frame was a kitchen spoon. The spoon was still trembling from the momentum with which was thrown. It missed his head by a hair. Klaus almost pissed himself.
“No stealing! Wait until they are done and you can eat.” His mother’s angry voice came from behind. Klaus turned.
“Mother. Did you just throw a spoon at me?”
“I threw a spoon at the door frame. If I would have thrown it at you, why would it be in the door frame? Now put the brownie back in the oven,” she said crossing her arms. Klaus obeyed. His mother had a kind and calm temper but when she got angry there was no way around with her. She will turn fierce, like a dragon that wants to burn villages. The women in the kitchen watched with pitiful eyes how Klaus put back the hot brownie, with a defeated face.
