The following day, Angus woke to find a card slipped under his door.
Angus Tutter
You are invited to the Well of Thrum,
There we will find your inner breath.
10:00 am today
Due regards,
Freyja
Sage of Melody
The invitation was cryptic but intriguing. Angus was motivated to discover everything possible about this strange new world. He grabbed breakfast in the Grand Dome and hurried to arrive on time.
The Well of Thrum wasn’t at all as Angus had expected. A long crack gaped in the city bedrock, and a quick peek over the edge revealed no bottom. Clouds of swirling colors and ephemeral lights billowed from the Well, and ejected embers rose lazily.
All the newcomers who had arrived on the Allegro were there, waiting for Freyja. A small, obnoxious audience loitered by some boulders a few yards away. It was Zach and company, certainly up to no good, pointing and laughing.
Angus found Trevor and Veronica, and they all compared watches. Trevor and Angus had very similar devices, but Veronica had chosen a pocket watch that hung on a chain.
"Mine has a blue ring on the display," Trevor commented. "It’s to do with tone or something; I really don’t get it. Mostly I’m looking forward to getting Persona stuff, but I don’t have anything to trade for it."
"I’m getting red horns first,” said Veronica, “I’m pretty strong, so for sure, somebody will give me a job so I can earn some tokens or whatever. Obviously, I want armor like Velora’s, but who knows how I’ll get that.”
"The first thing I'm going to get are contacts that turn your eyes green and let you see heat signatures," said Trevor, “and these cool robotic attachments for your arms that make you stronger.”
Freyja approached, ethereal, with long, almost transparent blond hair that tumbled down her back. Her deep blue eyes glowed faintly with an undersea light.
"Welcome to the Well of Thrum," Freyja lilted. "This is my favorite place. And my favorite thing to do at my favorite place is to hold still, listen, and be inspired. I encourage you to do the same."
Freyja seemed to float along the edge of the Well as she walked.
"Listen to what? That is the most common question to follow. Well, you’ll hear what you need to hear."
The audience was confused but, at the same time, did not care much because she was a captivating speaker.
"The Well of Thrum is the main reason we built the city here," said Freyja. "This is where we can get closest to the Thrum of Earth. The ocean insulates us from noise above so we can hear Thrum more clearly." Freyja drifted off into thought, then abruptly spun to face the crowd.
"Now, it's time to talk about your inner breath. Today, we will find your voice. Who would like to go first?"
"I will," Hamish volunteered, stepping forward.
"Good, come on then," Freyja pointed to the edge of the Well, "Sing one note, your strongest note, into the Well."
Hamish sang, and Freyja instantly replied, "Oh my, a powerful, high tenor who doesn't need to be center stage." Hamish smiled, and everyone congratulated him.
Angus felt his chest tighten. His palms began to sweat, and his fingers twitched frantically against his thighs. He knew everyone would find out sooner or later that he could not sing, but today was too soon for comfort.
"I’ll go next," said Trevor eagerly.
"Alright, go ahead." Freyja pointed to the edge of the Well, and Trevor sang.
She tilted her head as though listening to someone speak.
"A kind baritone with an inquisitive nature," Freyja declared.
Trevor gave a thumbs-up and stepped back.
A few others had their voices appraised, and then it was Adora's turn. She approached the Well, took a deep breath, and sang one of the purest notes Angus had ever heard.
Freyja stood silent as Adora's voice echoed in the crevice.
"Now that," Freyja affirmed, "Is the voice of a soprano. And you, my dear, have a heart of gold."
Adora blushed and returned to the group. Veronica stepped up and sang her note into the Well.
"Oh, interesting," said Freyja, "a contralto, what depths of compassion lurk beneath storm-tossed waves."
“I have no idea what she's talking about,” Veronica whispered to Angus while performing a toned-down version of her ‘weird meter’ gesture.
One by one, the newcomers sang, and Angus’s panic mounted. He desperately tried to think of a way to escape this humiliation. Eventually, there was no one left to hide behind.
"Your turn, my dear," Freyja called to Angus.
"But I've never sung before," protested Angus.
"That's okay, dear," said Freyja. "Just open your mouth, take a deep breath, and say ‘ah.’"
Angus clamped his agitated fingers into fists and approached the Well. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and "BLAHRGH!"
It sounded like a cross between a burp and a roar. Howls of laughter from Zach and his friends carried through the newcomer’s shocked silence.
Freyja, for the first time, was unsure. "Um, dear me. I see you truly are a novice. Don’t worry; we shall find your voice. I am sure of it." She winked.
Angus, mortified, wanted to throw himself into the Well. I don’t belong here, he thought. This is a mistake. I should never have touched that piano.
"Well, that’s everyone," said Freyja. "Thank you for coming. If you ever have a problem to solve or need inspiration, the Well will always help; feel free to return whenever you wish. Now, off you go for lunch, then Horace would like to see newcomers in the Arena for an introduction to choreography."
Freyja departed in as refined a fashion as she had entered. The group dispersed, and Zach hopped down from the rock he was perched on and sauntered over to the three youngsters.
"BLAHHH. I'm Mop Head, BLAHHHH," brayed Zach. "Can't sing in front of a pretty lady? Can't sing at all? "
Zack jabbed Angus in the shoulder with his index finger.
"I bet you don't have an Instrument yet, either!" said Zach. "You can't sing, can't play… why are you even here?!"
Angus saw red.
"THAT’S ENOUGH!" screamed Angus throwing his fists up, "I've had enough of your bullying!"
“This is going to be interesting,” said Veronica as Trevor ducked behind her. “Don’t forget to step into your punches, Angus!”
Angus glared furiously at Zach.
"Oh, so it's going to be like that?" Zach growled. "You don't want to mess with The Dark Hammers. I bet you don’t have one single piece of gear. We, on the other hand, all have a total Personas!"
Zach tapped his skull-shaped watch and Zappo, the orange guitar, materialized. The boy's tall mohawk shimmered into a flame effect, and a skull mask appeared on his face, "You can call me Skull Flame," Zach boasted.
Behind him, Bill Thugary produced his bass, Spud, designed to look like a Battle Ax. He wore it so low it hung by his knees, forcing him to hunch to reach the strings. A fan of ax blades emerged from his shoulders, dangerously close to his head. They looked sharp, wildly impractical, and immediately explained the catlike scratches on his face. "And I'm Axe Blade!" declared Bill.
Betsey produced drumsticks, and a kit appeared in front of her. The drums were black, embellished with torn pink hearts.
"Meet Tonkles, kids, and you can call me Heart Thrasher!" she hissed as her eyes filled with inky blackness and humongous pink goat horns curled from her head. "And you should know, my dad is Dionis, so you better not mess with me!"
Clem cleared his throat and produced an accordion with eyes painted all over it.
"This is my accordion, Yameshafetalong, and I am the Cartographer," said Clem, opening his eyes wide.
"And we," they shouted together, " are THE DARK HAMMERS!"
The ground lurched underfoot with a growl of thunder, and a narrow crack opened in the earth between the two groups.
Angus and friends assumed the Dark Hammers had somehow caused the earth tremor and glanced uneasily at one another. Bill winced; he had added another scratch to the collection with his shoulder ornaments.
"So," said Zach, casually ignoring the disrupted soil at his feet. "Your move. Are you crazy enough to take on the Dark Hammers?"
"Angus," whispered Veronica, "do that fancy footwork you did on the boat. I got your back.”
Angus nodded, took a deep breath, and charged at the Dark Hammers. Zach strummed his guitar, and a bolt of electricity shot out, hitting Angus square in the chest. The impact sent him reeling back, off balance, and Angus recovered too late to stop himself from tumbling into the Well.
Horrified, Trevor and Veronica raced over, fearing the worst, but found Angus writhing in pain on a small ledge about three yards below.
"Angus," screamed Trevor, "Are you OK?"
"No!” he shrieked. “I am NOT OK!”
Angus stared in shock at his left hand, impaled through the palm by a straight, polished stick. His fingers tried to move but spasmed like a jammed machine. Trevor paled and threw up in his mouth a bit.
“Wow,” said Veronica, “that’s gotta hurt.”
“Oh, ow, yeah! And there’s some spider-thing with far too many legs that keeps clicking at me and doing something weird with its antennae."
"Can you climb up?" asked Veronica.
Angus tried but could not ascend with only one hand.
"No," said Angus, ashen faced, "Is there a rope or something?"
Veronica and Trevor scanned the area, searching for anything that would help.
"So, looks like that footwork of yours on the boat was just a fluke," said Zach, his head peering over the edge, "Not so fancy now, are we?"
"Go eat maggots, you turd!" Veronica sneered at Zach.
Betsey pointed her drumsticks at Veronica. "You stay out of this, buzzcut,"
An ethereal voice filled the air as Freyja approached to join the small crowd at the edge of the crevasse. Angus felt a tug under his armpits, and his body floated. Freyja's voice wrapped tighter and deposited Angus safely at the edge of the Well.
She fell silent and then turned to the kids. "The Well is not a place for horseplay. Angus, you are fortunate to have landed on a ledge. If you had fallen in, I do not think you would have survived."
As the adrenaline rush faded, agony blossomed in Angus’s pierced hand.
Freyja addressed Veronica and Trevor, "Help your friend to the infirmary. The medics are very competent."
She turned, and Freyja’s expression darkened as she transformed into a commanding figure much older and wiser looking. Her eyes bored into Zach. “This behavior will not happen again. There will be consequences; go sit and wait.”
Several minutes later, Dionis strode up the path, wearing a biker jacket and twirling drumsticks.
“What’s up?”
Freyja waved him over and explained quietly.
"I will personally take care of these four." said Dionis, pointing to the Dark Hammers, "They’ll be experiencing an attitude adjustment.”
The Dark Hammers smirked, expecting Dionis would be more lenient on them than the other Sages might. Freyja opened her mouth as if to say something but shook her head in disappointment and stalked off.
Angus, Trevor, and Veronica headed for the infirmary while Dionis guided the Dark Hammers away.
"BLAHHHHHH, BLAAAAH, BLAHH,” the teenagers mocked over their shoulders.
"Run, Mop Head, run," taunted Zach.
Dionis slapped the back of Zach’s head, sending him stumbling to his knees.
"At least I got to see that," said Veronica, and they all giggled.
"Did you hear their dumb Persona names?" asked Trevor. "They’re trying so hard to be punks."
"The Dark Hammers," Veronica snorted. "More like the Rubber Mallets or the Pitiful Ding-Dongs."
They laughed, Angus simultaneously wincing, not just because of the pain. Angus began to wonder if Zach was right. His inability to sing was unforgivable. Maybe he didn't belong here.