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National-Violin-Day
🎻✨ Celebrate the beauty of strings, the rhythm of the bow, and the soul-stirring music of the violin! On this National Violin Day, let's honor the instrument that bridges emotion and melody. 🎶💫
#NationalViolinDay#ViolinLove#StringMagic#MusicLovers#ClassicalVibes#ViolinistLife#BeyondTechnology#SocialMediaMarketing#PPC#OnlineMarketinge
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Inktober Day 10: Pattern
#art#magic#artist#maude#maudepaints#ladyartists#practicedaily#sketchbook#inktober#practice#sketch#hands#witch#witchy#weaving#string#stringmagic
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Filum Coccinum
Red String of Fate AU, Cyno × Alhaitham oneshot. 2.5k words.
EDIT: It's on AO3 as well, so if you prefer that format for reading, click this link!
From a young age, Alhaitham knew he was different from almost everybody around him. Preternaturally clever and curious, the young boy was always in pursuit of new and exciting snippets of knowledge. One particular area of study he saw fit to concern his bright six-year-old mind with was the red threads he saw on the fingers of everybody else but himself.
“Mother, why does everybody have a red string on their fingers?” Alhaitham innocently posed the question sitting at the dinner table. He noticed how his mother ladled out a rich lentil stew for him and his father with her right hand, and how a seemingly-ordinary red thread connected her pinky finger to her husband’s own hand.
Alhaitham observed the way the ladle faltered for a second in his mother’s grasp as surprise made itself clear in the teal eyes he inherited. “Alhaitham, dear, you can see other people’s threads?” His mother asked as she exchanged a look with her husband.
“…yes,” the young boy said, tilting his head to the side as he tried to analyse his parents’ reactions.
“And do you have one yourself?” His mother continued, her tone deceptively light.
Alhaitham brought his hands up to show his parents, not knowing that he was the only one who could see the threads (or his lack thereof). “No, I don’t. I thought it was an adult thing first, like how you both have the thread, and like how Auntie Aaliyah and Uncle Haidar next door have it too. But then I noticed that other children my age have them too, but I can’t see who they’re connected to in our village, except for Ishak and Omar,” Alhaitham recalls seeing the thread connecting the two boys a few years older than him.
“Alhaitham, this is a very rare occurrence,” his father began. “Actually, everybody is born with a red string. This red string connects people to their soulmates. Soulmates are people fated by the stars to be together,” he explains, taking regretful note of how his son’s face starts to fall and quickly reassuring him.
“It’s not that you don’t have a string or a soulmate yourself, my boy. You are what is known as a stringmage. Stringmages like yourself can see other people’s threads, but cannot see their own strings until they meet their soulmate in person. People like your mother and I, we’re not stringmages, so we can only see our own threads.”
“That sounds quite unfair,” the grey-haired boy huffed. “It’s like opposites. I can see other people’s threads but can’t see mine, and you can only see your threads but can’t see others’… I guess you win some and you lose some,” he sighs as he picks up his spoon to start his dinner.
- - -
It was a popular thing to do, as a twelve-year-old, to hold up your hand and tug experimentally on the string, to figure out approximately which direction your string was leading to. If your string led south, your soulmate was probably in verdant Sumeru, if your string tended northeast, your soulmate would probably have grown up in the bustling port of Liyue. If your string stretched north, your soulmate would possibly hail from frosty Snezhnaya.
All the same, it was fun to speculate, and share your findings with your friends. However, the reserved Alhaitham never participated in these little games, which led some of his more abrasive classmates to spread the rumour that he simply did not possess a string.
“Look at him, so aloof and reading that stupid book. He thinks he’s so above it all, huh?”
“No wonder he doesn’t have a string.”
“Even if he did, I pity whoever his soulmate is, having to be linked to such a stuck-up guy.”
Alhaitham heard everything. Still, he paid it no mind, flipping a page of his new book.
I don’t need a soulmate, he thought to himself. I have my own plans in life, soulmate or not.
Over time, Alhaitham’s jadeite irises stopped straying to his pinky, dismissing the hope that the red string would become visible someday.
- - -
A few years went by, and Sumeru Akademiya opened its doors to its newest addition to the Darshan of Haravatat.
Alhaitham, unsurprisingly, excelled in his studies with his bright mind and sometimes unconventional work style. Clinching the top spot in his cohort would have been extraordinarily easy for him, if not for the presence of a prodigy from the desert that challenged him at every turn.
Cyno was his name, and the two were usually at loggerheads when it came to academics. Cyno was equally as brilliant as Alhaitham in almost every aspect, pushing Alhaitham’s limits and competing with him for absolutely every honour there was to get. If Alhaitham had memorised the ancient script of King Deshret just for bragging rights over the one who called the desert his home, Cyno had mastered the Khaenri’ahn syntax and a sizeable portion of its lexicon. If Alhaitham had clinched a spot as the Haravatat Journal’s editor, Cyno was also tirelessly churning out articles for the school newspaper alongside him. If Alhaitham raised a point during class discussions, Cyno would immediately counter it with an annoyingly well-constructed one of his own.
Alhaitham would never show it, but he was a tad bit offended at how alike the two of them were. They both were stubborn, unyielding, competitive. They both were driven by the love of pursuing knowledge and self-improvement. They were both diligent, hardworking and conscientious. And to top everything off, they were both stringmages.
Alhaitham would have been hard-pressed to ignore all the rumours surrounding his rival, much less the rumours surrounding himself. They had, after all, made quite a name for themselves among the hallowed halls of the Akademiya with their various accolades and similar, standoffish demeanours. Their names were even swirling around the other Darshans’ gossip circles, as Alhaitham found out when he was sitting in an alcove in the Akademiya’s garden reading.
A few Amurta students were talking about how one of them, a black-haired boy with intriguing fennec fox ears that his beret barely managed to stay on top of, had the biggest crush on a Haravatat student with immaculately bronzed skin, garnet eyes that glinted with determination, and moonlight hair that “just begged to have hands running through it”.
Alhaitham barely suppressed a snort. They were clearly discussing Cyno, and he found it amusing how people could wax lyrical about such an infuriating man. The next statement from that chattering group of students gave him pause, however.
“I have it on good standing that he’s a stringmage, though. I first heard it from Arjun, who’s a student in his class. You know Arjun and his girlfriend were really low-key about their affection for each other before they started officially dating, and even then they were quiet about it. Arjun said that on the very morning after they got together, Cyno walked past, looked at both of their hands, and said, ‘Congratulations.’ It’s obvious that he can see their red strings!”
“That’s so cool though, to see other people’s strings. But doesn’t that mean he can’t see his?”
“Probably, but I bet he’s already found his soulmate though.”
“How do you know?” The fennec boy asked, his eyes wide.
“Isn’t it obvious? It’s that other guy he always competes against, You know, the stoic, clever one with the grey and turquoise hair. Alhaitham, I think his name was?”
“Yeah, they’re literally equals in everything. Give it up, Tighnari, they’re made for each other,” the student laughed as she patted the fox boy’s back mock-consolingly. The group then left for another deeper part of the garden, biology sketchpads in hand.
Alhaitham shut his book and made his way back to his dormitory, quietly scoffing. Cyno, his soulmate? Please.
Alhaitham didn’t even bother checking his hand for the red string before going to bed and drifting off into a dreamless sleep.
- - -
“Alhaitham, you truly are an exceptional student. Have you given any thought about what you wish to do post-graduation?” His Darshan’s Sage, Khajeh, asked of the young man.
Alhaitham pondered over that question. He had a few options in mind, but couldn’t seem to narrow any down, and gave voice to these thoughts to the Sage.
“Honestly, I believe you would make a fine candidate for the future General Mahamatra, with your sense of integrity. Surely being the keeper of knowledge might be to your preference?” The Sage raises an eyebrow.
“I had also previously considered being a Matra, Sage Khajeh, but I would unfortunately have to decline,” Alhaitham said smoothly as a familiar figure flashed across his mind. “However, might I be so bold as to recommend an alternative? The person I have in mind would be a much more seamless fit for the role of a Matra…”
Aided by his intelligence, Alhaitham graduated in a fraction of the time it would take any other student. Unsurprisingly, Cyno graduated at the same time as he did, the both of them getting summa cum laude effortlessly. The two of them shook hands with the Grand Sage Azar in succession, then turned to shake each other’s hands, looking at each other in the eye with mutual respect and begrudging admiration.
A stray thought flitted across Alhaitham’s treacherous brain unbidden. His hand feels strangely familiar… it fits perfectly in mine. Alhaitham’s pale turquoise eyes, trained to analyse and pick apart and understand, recognised that the same thought was running through the mind of his rival.
They both held on a split second longer than necessary, squeezed with infinitesimal pressure, then let go.
Not once did they look down at their own hands.
- - -
Alhaitham, the newly-appointed scribe, is sifting through his first batch of files to be entered into the Akasha. He recognises that this is delicate work and that he cannot let his old-mentors-turned-new-employers down, so he pays more attention to the files in front of him.
He stops short, stunned, the papers and folders forgotten completely as he stares in shock. There is a red string tied around his pinky.
- - -
Cyno’s new mentor, an experienced Matra by the name of Taj Radkani, is beginning Cyno’s first lesson in polearm combat. He urges the young man to pay close attention to the grip on his weapon, and is less than pleased when the latter looks down at his hands, utters a gasp, and fumbles his grip on the polearm.
Cyno apologises, righting his combat stance, but his breath is caught in his throat. There is a red string tied around his pinky.
- - -
Years passed, and the two rose up the ranks of the Akademiya, with Alhaitham being instated as the Grand Scribe, and Cyno being inaugurated as the General Mahamatra.
The two barely had cause to meet, but whenever they bumped into each other in the corridors, they exchanged terse nods and went about their respective businesses. Even so, as their duties piled up and their interests were pulled in two different directions, even this meagre acknowledgement ceased to be performed.
Soon, however, an elaborate case regarding Canned Knowledge, a nascent god and a nefarious Akademiya plot would turn the tides of fate, bringing two estranged rivals back together once more.
- - -
Alhaitham trudges through the desert, his boots sinking into the sand with every step he takes. A blond traveller and their fairy companion, a loudmouthed floating sprite, are the grey-haired man’s travelling partners for today. Alhaitham knows that he is not the most trustworthy of people, often finding unorthodox ways to skirt around the law, to find out the truth of whatever it is that has caught his sharp eye. The fact that the traveller has willingly joined forces with none other than himself… is it naïveté, or is it wisdom?
Alhaitham finds it rather interesting, their determination to save the God of Wisdom from the Sages of the Akademiya. Alhaitham knows that he is walking a fine line, pretending to be on the Akademiya’s side as their Grand Scribe, and yet sticking his nose into the seedy ploy that his former professors had taken great pains to hide from him. They know he is not to be underestimated, and if Alhaitham was a less intelligent man, his attempt at double-crossing the finest minds in the nation would have not gone unnoticed.
As he leads the traveller and the pixie to the outskirts of Aaru Village, Alhaitham introduces it as the “safe haven of the desert folk”, as the pair take in the landscape with wide eyes.
A shadow in the midst of the blazing desert sun darts across the periphery of Alhaitham’s vision, and he is immediately put on high alert. Not long after, however, a familiar voice reaches Alhaitham’s ears, one that he has not gotten the chance to hear in close to a decade.
A lithe, agile figure adorned with a jackal headdress plummets down at the trio with a snarl, brandishing a polearm with fluid, practiced ease. The blond traveller’s reflexes are sharp, raising their sword to fend off the first of their assailant’s attacks, pushing the man backwards slightly.
The General Mahamatra nimbly orients himself, twirling his polearm with menacing grace as he charges towards them again. Alhaitham steps forward, sword at the ready to counter his blows, a familiar and exhilarating pounding in his chest building as he takes in the form of his old rival. Cyno is ruthless with his weapon, unleashing strike after strike on Alhaitham as the two clash in a song of steel and adrenaline. Alhaitham and his rival are evenly matched, blade and spear-shaft weaving around each other, complementing each other step for step in a lethal waltz of danger.
It is only in the moment where Alhaitham raises his sword in a horizontal bar, palms flat against both the blade and the hilt, that he notices the incriminating scarlet thread. Cyno vaults off of the flat of Alhaitham’s blade, landing gracefully on a rock formation. He has come to the same realisation as Alhaitham, lunging once more at the man and having the force of their final clash separate them on equal ground.
The General Mahamatra’s vermillion gaze has a thousand emotions swirling inside them, and while the traveller may mistake the intensity of that gaze to be hostility, Alhaitham knows so much better.
Their eyes both lock on each other’s, finally noticing the crimson cord that does away with the distance between them. It has been years since they were last in each other’s presence, and to find out they were connected by this singular thread of scarlet all this time?
Overwhelmed, but refusing to show it to his rival - his soulmate - the only word that bypasses Alhaitham's lips is a breathy murmur of his fated other half’s name.
“…Cyno.”
= = =
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Remember this diagram? Swipe to reveal what it looks like now! I gotta say, despite taking the time to remind myself how to calculate circumference, I got lazy matching measurements to the math and ended up simplifying the design on the fly, and quite frankly, I'm glad I didn't spend too much time pulling hair over it. Next prototype will be more elaborate.⠀ 🌼⠀ Curious yet? Find me at #JoshuaTreeMusicFestival and you can help me "beta test" a workshop concept I'll be bringing to life this summer. I need 8(ish) volunteers for an exercise in "movement architecture" and team building! If I have enough time to make another of these mysterious flowers, we can have more than a dozen people helping play-test at the same time, but we'll see ... 😎⠀ #MakeSomethingMonday #FiberCraft #StringMagic
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original url http://www.geocities.com/stringmages/ last modified 2002-10-30 02:39:02
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#wizardpost headed to the Netherlands and Poland #stringmagic Have a good week everyone!
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It’s not that I haven’t been making things . . . At JTMF I got out my watercolors for the first time in ages and worked on two different paintings. - I’ve made little daily alters lately with crystals and incense and colors corresponding with the day of the week. It’s simple, but nice. - I made an impact on the dance floor at Kava Lounge the other night. Unfortunately, I was only there for about an hour and wanted to stay longer, but it was very much a Cinderella kind of night, and my head was on my pillow at 11:59pm. - Despite all this, I feel like I’ve lost my making mojo. Nothing I knit or crochet makes sense. The two paintings still sit as works in progress. And let’s not even talk about my writing. It’s a thing that happens now and then, but it feels especially ill timed right now. - So I walked myself over to our storage unit, and got out my drop spindle that I haven’t touched in about three years. At the time I put it away, I had just barely begun to learn and felt that what I knew did not qualify as “knowing how to spin” but that there was optimistic potential. - Last time I had my spindle out, I spent lots of time on YouTube trying to get a sense of what my hands needed to be doing, and generally feeling like I didn’t really get it. This time I said fuck it, and just began slowly pre-drafting bits at a time with the spindle jammed between my knees, and then short wondrous moments of flight as I would dance the spindle around in a awkward dance of very tight twist, then some accidental back-spin, then another wobbly whirl as more fiber fed the twist, then grab the spindle with my knees again as I wrangle more fiber into a little cloud stream to send spilling through my fingers and down the twisting fall to the spindle dancing shakily, and I kept on doing this until it was dark and I was mostly going by rhythm and feel. - Still not sure where my mojo is, and I certainly didn’t magically get better at making the yarn, it’s still lumpy in some places and over-twisted in others, but it is strong, and soft, and I made it. - #MakeSomethingMonday #FiberCraft #StringMagic #dropspindle #spinning
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This has become my favorite project to work on, but it's difficult because it's comprised entirely of little leftover balls of yarn, and progress keeps coming to halt as I use up my scraps. I've been digging deep in the stash for every tiny ball I can find, but soon I have to put this aside until I have new scraps from new projects. #MakeSomethingMonday #FiberCraft #StringMagic
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I had so many "intend to do's" and "should make more of's" for March, and in the big picture I don't mind plans getting rearranged as priorities shift, but holy hell March, did you have to be such a raging bitch about it?!?! ✨ Anyway, I've been working on a little something in some very spring colors, and it's been very satisfying. #MakeSomethingMonday #FiberCraft #StringMagic
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Still looking for that finished project satisfaction. Purple seems to be the theme lately. #makesomethingmonday #fibercraft #stringmagic
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I reverse engineered some yoga mat bags for @applesarereds and myself, we've both been meaning to put more time into our practice. It turned out to be a very mathematicaly pleasing pattern to crochet, all the stitch and row counts are all factors of 108 🕉 😜 #StringMagic #FiberCraft #MakeSomethingMonday
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