The Dead Forest, a name bestowed upon the land during times unrecorded by people long forgotten, was betrayed by its reality. Arguably, the drab colors and damp, murky atmosphere could be considered depressing, but it was very far from dead. Moonlight peeked through the forest canopy in a desperate attempt to illuminate the ground, failing miserably for most part. Yet out of the darkness nature composed its life-symphony; her ambient sounds filling the air. Insect, animal and plant alike joined voices in chorus to sing for those whose ears could hear them.
One such pair belonged to woman reclining on the branches of one of the area’s larger trees. Her perch commanded a spectacular view of the surroundings, making it a prime lookout location. The woman’s physique and attire placed her in a military of some sort. The markings carried by her clothing; however, belonged to no nation or organization found on Gaia. To the common man, the woman herself even seemed “out of place”. A head-full of shortly cut hair flashed an unnaturally bright orange. Her complexion, bronze-like in appearance, didn’t quite match that of any nationality encountered by most. Then there were her eyes. Not wanted to neglect the basic clichés of description, they were by far the woman’s most identifying feature. They seemed to glow a bright amber color, even in the limited lighting of the forest. Fortunately (depending who you asked), most people on Gaia were “out of place”. In a world filled with magicians, gods, and devils, she stood out no more than a swollen thumb at a hammer and nail convention; for the blind.
It could be debated whether her reasons for being here were recreational or official. Neither side would be wrong. She sat on a thick branch, leaning against the trunk with he legs crossed and both arms behind her head. Add her leisurely posture to the near-oversized earphones enveloping her ears and one could mistakenly assume obliviousness. In reality, they’d assume so at their own peril.
“Hey.” The woman spoke, greeting the individual who had just staked claim to the large branch closest to her. It was a few feet above her and facing perpendicular.
“Siri!” A slightly higher, feminine voice responded. Siri was a lazy abbreviation of Isiri, the woman’s name.
“Someone send you here to find me, Xiopoli?” Isiri asked. Xiopoli was a long-time comrade of Isiri. They both wore similar uniforms, placing them in the same military organization. Appearance-wise, Xiopoli stood a little taller, had darker skin, and sported outrageously pink and outrageously unkempt hair. Her eyes were that same eerie amber color, save for being maybe a shade or two darker.
“Nup. I just came down here to find out what the hell you were doing. Soooo…” Xiopoli abruptly plopped on the branch and glanced straight ahead into the forest scenery. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Listening.” Isiri’s reply elicited a soft laugh from Xiopoli.
“Oh, Reeeeeeeeeally?” Xiopoli leaned over to look down at her friend. “I’m surprised you can still hear anything with those earmuffs you have on!” She made her comment only half in jest. Isiri was never without her headset, and many have even mistaken them for some sort of hearing prosthesis. When she wasn’t playing music from her impossibly large playlist, she was recording more. There are even times when the headphones weren’t doing anything at, but that didn’t stop her from wearing them religiously.
Isiri rolled her eyes.
“Anything good?”
“Can’t you hear? I’ve been reading up on this place, it’s called the “Dead Forest”, yet its sounds are so-”
“Noisy?”
“Alive!” She practically ignored Xiopoli. Not many of their kind understood Isiri’s passion for music and sound. Hell, Xiopoli had known her for years and she still thought the woman was crazy!
“Don’t tell me… this is going on your playlist.” A grin escaped Xiopoli.
“How could it not? This planet has so many interesting voices!”
“It sounds just like the other Ja-Ran worlds we’ve been to!” In their native language, Ja-Ran literally translated into “directionless wanderer”. It was a term their race used to describe humans. “Hell, have you listened to the radio? They even sing about the same depressing, egotistical garbage.” Xiopoli knew she was treading into dangerous territory. Once you got Isiri started on how each world had its own unique voice, you were in for a ride. At this point she didn’t care; it’s not like she had anything better to do. Besides, any opportunity she had to better understand her friend’s strange passion, she’d take.
“In a way, you’re right.” Isiri replied, much to the surprise of Xiopoli.
“Wait, what?”
“Yes, majority of what I’ve heard on this planet, I’ve also heard someplace else. What makes this place amazing is that they seem transplanted. It’s like this planet can speak in any voice, yet, has none of its own. I notice this mainly on colony planets. They usually adopt the voice of their mothering nations until eventually developing their own. Here, there seems to be no clear mother nation. Its voice comes from everywhere, everyone. People here sing of heroes, wars, and love that are culturally separated by light years… at least!” By “at least”, Isiri was referring to whatever extra-dimensional beings and deities rocked out to. She’d never mention that to Xiopoli, though. She was well aware how crazy she sounded to others and didn’t want to risk being thought of as completely insane. “I thought this would be limited to just civilization, but even here; even in nature, the same rings true! I hear traces of indigenous life, but it’s simply been overwhelmed by outside influences!” The excitement in Isiri’s voice was undeniable. Xiopoli just nodded; if for no other reason than to carry on the façade that she understood what Isiri was talking about.
“Like the planet was conquered by someone?”
“Like the planet was conquered by everyone! I’ve never heard anything like this! In a way, being able to speak in every voice is its unique voice. It’s amazing.”
“And… you’ve deduced this by listening to some monkeys, tree leaves, and water?” Xiopoli shook her head slowly. “Siri… you are a very strange person.”
“Xiopoli, we’ve seen enough of this galaxy to fill several lifetimes. I just like to indulge myself in something other than the forthcoming violence.”
“Yeah, but most people snap some pictures and buy a post card.”
“I do the same thing; I just prefer to sightsee with my ears.”
“Like I said, ‘very strange’.”
“You know, when I was little, I used to look up at the stars at night and just imagine how many different songs each one of them had. It made me sad that no matter how much I traveled and how hard I tried, I’d never be able to hear them all. It still does.”
“Never? I’ve glanced at the filesize of your playlist. You’ve got to be pretty damn close!” Xiopoli laughed. “Playlist” didn’t even begin to describe it. Isiri’s musical library consisted of “a lot of music”; much like the Pacific Ocean consisted of “a lot of water”. It was rumored that if someone were to play all of Isiri’s songs back to back nonstop, it’d be at least five years before the track looped! It was insane! On the upside, if there were anything Xiopoli wanted to listen to, Isiri was the girl to see!
“It just goes to show you how vast the universe truly is.” Isiri sighed. “I mean, do you feel as if you’ve accomplished your goal in life? I believe it was: ‘Pwning every scrub in the galaxy’.” It was time for retaliation as she questioned her friend’s own hobbies.
“I suppose our goals are similar in that regard.” Xiopoli let out a defeated sigh. “For every scrub that falls, 10 more take their place. I checked out the arcades around here and everyone was terrible! It was very depressing. That’s part of the reason I came out here to find you.” Xiopoli was an avid gamer. She’d play everything, but her forte was fighting games and first-person shooters. Often she’d joke with Isiri that since her goal was to listen to as much music as possible from around the galaxy, she’d beat as many opponents as possible in videogames. She easily could have made a living off her hobby, but decided against it because “pwning faces” in reality was by far the more satisfying career choice.
“An arcade? Our nation’s currency has no value here, how did you get the money?”
“Why would you even ask that? I’m a female gamer! People were practically falling over themselves to pay for my games! Trust me, they spent far more money trying to beat me. Hell, I was even so nice as to give them back the controls after I got tired of winning. I’m glad I didn’t have to spend any of my own money, though. The only thing I learned from these scrubs is that the win-streak counter on ‘Heaven Or Hell 2009: Glacier Edition’ only goes up to 99!”
“And I’m supposed to be the strange one.” Isiri laughed.
