We All Play in the Same Song- Contest Entry

In the city of Gram, the main goal is to fulfill the values of their mysterious founder, whose name is as much as a mystery than the rest of his identity. Gram is divided into two schools of thought: the academic and precise Mathematikoi and the pious and mystical Akousmatikoi. Although they are very different, both schools believe they are the true intellects, and to be intellectual is the ultimate goal. A few individuals however, share very different ideals than the rest of their city

Chapter 1

Procrastination

Every year for a week The Battle Festival spreads excitement throughout the city of Gram during the usually sleepy month of September.

"You must understand," Avesta Hyde's history professor explained, "That The Battle Festival is an official opportunity to prove we're better a better representation of our founder's values. Therefore, in order to attend the week of festivities, you must complete an essay on the history of the relationship of the two schools of thought."

I groaned internally, but the rest of the class looked excited, accepting a challenge. That was the Mathematikoi way; no obstacle is unsolvable.

"How long will I procrastinate on this?" That was a challenge I knew I could overcome.

A week.


We all play in the same song
diligent bow, violent bangs,
We all play in the same song.
two schools, one nation
We all play in the same song
two factions, many few known
We all play in the same song
some logic, some soul
We all play in the song
stars in sky, battle cries
We all play in the same song
Mathematikoi, school clever and cool
We all play in the same song
Akousmatikoi, school mystic and pious
We all play in the same song.
Two opposites, passive and aggressive,
banging drums and sqealing strings.
Warring nation, yet...
We all play in the same song.

I sigh and lay my pen down. I barely had time to enjoy the fact I've finished my history assignment, because my mother immediately calls me to dinner.

"Avesta! Hurry up, your food is getting cold." I run to the kitchen table.

The smell of dinner makes my stomach growl: vitamins, nutrients, bleach and cleanliness; the usual kitchen fragrance.

The rest of my family was already seated on the kitchen table. My parents were seating next to each other which is unusual because they normally sat on each head of the table. My brother was next to my usual spot.

"Perfect timing," I said as a grabbed my plate, "I just finished my history project.

Like most families in Mathimatikoi, my family is vegetarian. Mathimatikoi are intellects, so we believe in a diet that will not only energize physically, but mentally. I usually hate the spongy texture and flavorlessness of tofu, yet I devoured my dinner.

My brother Aaron looked at me curiously, "A little hungry there Avesta?" he said teasingly.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes. I spent three straight hours on research project that would've normally taken me a week."

"Well, when did your teacher assign it?" he asked, whilst taking a huge bite of broccoli.

"A week ago."

"Avesta, you need to manage your time better," Aaron scolded. "Next year will a be a lot harder. You'll be training for your career.

You think I don't hear that enough? I thought to myself.

Suddenly my parents caught onto our conversation.

"Aaron, what has Avesta done?"

Aaron answered promptly, "The usual. Procrastinating."

Am I invisible?

"Avesta, we have a lot on our minds," my mother said firmly, "We don't need your antics distracting us."

"We're serious, Avesta," my father added, "Stuff that we can't talk about." he held my mothers hand. This action was usual; in Mathimatikoi excessive affection is weak, soft and almost everything we do is exact. Most people won't admit it but, even our best scientists can't unravel the mysteries behind emotions like love.

"Rachelle," my father addressed my mom, "I think she ought to know."

"No, no. She's too young."

"If Aaron can handle it, she should be to as well."

I was used to this kind of exchange. Our whole neighborhood was a research facility for the government, in which both my parents held important positions in. I've never had any interest in their jobs, but the fact that Aaron knows about it and I don't made me slightly upset. He's only three years older than me.

"Avesta," my father continued, "The point is you need to work harder in your studies. Be more like your brother, he's graduating top of his class. We need more people that that. Do you forget what it means to be one of us? We're not one of those star-gazers, we get the real work done."

I plucked up the courage to ask what has been on my mind.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Silence. No answer, from no one.

I glanced at Aaron. Not a word.

Mother nervously clears her throat. "War. War is going on."




Authors Note: This is for Emily's (A_Small_Drop) contest.




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