Pleiades

It is said, "Within some burns the fire of rage. Warriors clad in glory, iron, and wrath. Within some glows the flame of nurture. Mothers, Fathers, Teachers, guides, finders of path. Within some flickers the tongue of rule. Leaders bound to those they bind by innate code, wisdom, and law. Finally, within some smolders the ember of resonance. Sonorous beings channeling, translating, emanating, and wielding The Sound."

Forefather knew I was a Sonorous, even before I left my mother's womb. Mother and Father told me stories of how Forefather would sing to me through his daughter's belly, "...and I would sing back," they said. Mother felt it as a tickling vibration in the small of her spine. Father could feel it if he put his hand on Mother's belly.

Forefather heard me in his vijnm'en. At least, this was our word for it in Atlantis. In modern language you might say he heard me in his 'heart-mind'.

I have no memory of Atlantis. Forefather was to be a chief architect of a new structure being built across the Shallow Sea, in a realm nurtured by the Sunning Serpent River. We moved to the land now called Egypt when I had been here but three Sunnes.

Egypt, I remember. You've never seen such greenery, so much life in one place. Date palm trees for eye span upon eye span. Bustling markets overflowing with all manner of cloth, spice, jewel, food, and craft. Blooming gardens wafting fragrances like divine clouds; adorning the city in the most unexpected places. I used to play hide-and-seek with Trilla and my favorite spot was in a hanging bough of camellia. The branches were so thick they held me like a hammock, and the leaves so dense they could hide me comfortably for hours. Trilla never once found me when I hid there.

Figs were my favorite part of summer. They were at their ripest during the new moon, when Isis had finally caught up with Osiris in their nightly courtship. Of course, I never did bother to learn exactly how they tasted during the full moon. As a respectable fig thief, I found the new moon to be both the sweetest and the safest time for nocturnal harvesting.

Like all children at that time, for the first twelve Sunnes of my life, I simply lived. Atlantian society and Egyptian society agreed on the benefits of rearing children in this way. Life inspires interest. Human will takes care of the rest.

I hid, I sought, I fig-harvested, yes. I also taught myself to read, write, draw, and weave basket. When you teach yourself something - both by watching others do it and through self-discovery - you learn to do the thing in a way that only you do it. Forefather said this is what made us innovators of the highest degree, and I agree with him.

Most importantly, I found my inner Sound. I was halfway through my eighth Sunne. I felt a great surging in my legs, arms, and chest, as though my blood was suddenly alight with juice of the glowfly. Finding the nearest cavernous vessel - a clay vase with an ox skin cover stretched o'er the mouth - I began to play.

What I played was unknown and lost to the echoes of time. For it was not so much something I played, as some... thing which played through me.

Mother came home from the market (more figs!) to find me sweating and bruised, but happy as a hoopoe.

One thing it may be helpful to understand, our society operated in mixtures and admixtures. Few people did only one thing. After all, how many rug merchants does a village truly need?

The secret to a thriving society, we knew, lay in mixtures and admixtures.

I was a Sonorous, yes, but a horrendous musician. My Sound was clamor and courage. It was beautiful, by way of originality and raw honesty, but grating to many an ear as I bashed whatever object had the misfortune to become my present moment drum.

The solution, for me, lay in my other inner passion: metal.

Iron has such a different personality from copper. As does silver from gold. Though, if I'm telling it true, alloys are where the magic happens. Merging molten metals evokes the best of each.

Clang, gong, bellow, scrape.

Chip, tap, hisssss, snape.

The music of my forge rang like a symphony. With each hammer stroke, the Sound of Eternity pounded into the metal.

And let me tell you, my alloy of gold, copper, silver, iron, and Sound... created the most powerful Resonators known to our time.

Though my forging technique was standard by metallurgical measures, I deviated from procedural standard when I combined both my basket-weaving technique and my Sonorous percussive energy into my Resonators. This generated a vibrational state in the alloy which was simultaneously legato and staccato... simultaneously flowing and firm... simultaneously harmony and focus.

In short, this duality is what empowered my Resonators with the ability to both lift 30-ton slabs of limestone and to place them with astronomical accuracy.

I have heard a strange tale that some people in the modern world believe the Pyramids were built using a system of levers, rope, and pulleys. This is hard for me to comprehend how this would be possible. There was no tree in the world strong enough to make a pulley which would even support the weight of these limestone slabs, let alone elevate them. And we had not yet invented steel at that time for cable, so how was rope supposed to hold a slab which weighed over 60 thousand pounds?

The more I think about the modern theories, the more difficult it is for me to understand: Why do none of you modern people think we knew how to levitate things?

Is it just because we existed long ago? And you assume that 'long ago' must mean 'inferior'?

Nature gives examples of the principles required for levitation. Insects, like your ladybug or your bumble bee, which, by structural calculation, should not be able to fly. Yet, they fly. Billions of them. Daily.

Waves in the ocean. Though made of water, ocean waves can lift solid boats higher into the air. Again, this happens many times every day.

If undulating water can lift a boat, doesn't it seem natural that vibrating metal can lift a stone?

Forgive me. You are here to hear about my time, and I digress by tying it to yours.

We built our Pyramids to tune our Earth. To tie her to the stars. To align her in harmony with her mother, the Skies.

The Pleiades, at that time, emitted a powerful vibration every night in our sky, and so we tethered our Earth to them with our Pyramids. Our antennae to the heavens.

For though we may be great distances apart, we are all united by The One Sound.