#computationalalchemist

You walk barefoot, trailing faintly luminescent footprints in your wake. With the slightest mental pressure, a growth of pale blue crystals sprouts, like accelerated moss from where you’ve trod.

They grow higher, taller, their shapes more complicated as they get larger, the gentle chiming that accompanies them growing louder. Choirs of crystal growths build as they spread, singing a haunting song as they harmonise and grow. You occasionally find the skeletons of small animals or birds, encased in large crystals like bugs in amber. Those crystals seem to sing a more joyous song than the others.

Once, a man in a battered coat grabbed you by the shoulder as you walked home, late one night. He had a knife, but before he had the chance to say anything, you panicked. Flailing, trying to push him away from you, the bare skin of your palm touched his face. And then there was screaming. And then there was singing.

You’ve tried to forget. His face, contorted in agony, trying to pull away crystals already bonded to the bones of his skull. The angry, discordant song of your crystals, protecting their master. The snapping of bones, the tearing of flesh.