Prologue

Rhythm – procedure marked by the regular recurrence of particular elements, phases, etc.:

(music) the pattern of regular or irregular pulses caused in music by the occurrence of strong and weak melodic and harmonic beats.

(Art, Literature) a patterned repetition of a motif, formal element, etc., at regular or irregular intervals in the same or a modified form.

(Physiology) the regular recurrence of an action or function, such as of the beat of the heart.

The standard mundane application of this innocuous word invokes a certain image in those that hear it. A catchy tune or beat; perhaps a particular work of an artist or writer; or even of science.

Though one might find by taking a hop just one reality over this word became associated with a radical, world shaping concept, adding a new definition to its stack:

(force) the life energy which all things possess.

In a world where this miraculous energy could be possessed, channeled, or otherwise altered, one would find even what should have been identical to Earth would become a beast of its own making.

Resonators – those bearing animalistic traits like tails, ears, and wings, but are otherwise human in form. Their magic is leashed by another, powerless on their own, they have great potential yet to be unlocked.

Maestros – outwardly normal humans, they possess the ability to pass on their Rhythm to Resonators whom they command. For a majority of Resonators, their Maestros command is law, there is no disobedience.

Naturals – beastly bipeds covered in fur, scales, or feathers; their dwindling populations are the masters of their own magic and answer to no other.

Of all the wondrous shapes and forms these melopomorphs take, none are more fascinating than the demure zalavan.

Those who take the sun’s blessed rays as foodstuffs.
Those who laurel grass as their crown.
Those who draw magic from the plants of Riterra – regardless of the orders of another.

These are Resonators of a different breed. Humble in manner and stature, these modest people live their lives in secrecy – hidden from the marvels of the modern world.

Few leave the safety of their gardens, but to the sprinkling of zalavan that grace Riterra proper the world that awaits them is anything but kind.