500 years after its discovery, many mysteries still hover over the Sand and it is thought that many features remain to be discovered. Manipulation with sound is certainly the main cornerstone for its use, but there are other questions to be answered such as: “Is it possible to go beyond this skill?” or even, “What else can you do with Sand?”.
The topic is certainly interesting, but less vast and in-depth than one might think.
All the books and treatises that talk about it do nothing but repeat the same old things and very little that is current is added in the recently published tomes, which is why current generations partly aspire to be future discoverers of something vital.
Those modestly important discoveries made over the years have undoubtedly been revolutionary, but the thirst for knowledge is not easy to quench, especially after the last two centuries of lack of innovation. For some Masters of the aforementioned centuries, this stagnant and poor development situation represents a sort of personal embarrassment: the baton was passed to them to carry forward the evolution of the Sand and none of them achieved truly important results.
Their predecessors with disappointment, certainly, were watching them from the kingdom of heaven.
Daysam was reminded of a speech given by the late Master Fawzi.
At one of his last gatherings with colleagues, which took place right there in Al Haimat, before disappearing for a couple of years on what was his last trip, he was asked what, in his opinion, was the reason why there were no had been innovations in their profession.
<< Because our category has become lazy. That’s because. >> he responded without mincing words.
<< Masters are arrogant and think they know everything, they have decided to be satisfied with the knowledge they have already established, ending up losing that desire to study even after graduation.
I find it reckless: you should never think that you can stop learning something about your craft.
Architects must continue to study architecture if they want to learn how to build new, safe structures; soldiers must always prepare themselves in case they find themselves faced with an enemy who uses different war strategies…. therefore, a true Sand Master should always expand their knowledge and never limit themself to what they already know. It is important to know as much as possible.
In a certain sense, every Master should remain an eternal student. >>
Daysam completely agreed with that thought.
Stopping learning meant missing important opportunities to acquire knowledge that would make him superior to others.
He had always admired Fawzi for his commitment to enriching the culture of that profession; he was one of those few men he could truly define as a colleague. It was a shame that on other fronts, however, they had different opinions. And above all that, he felt a strong resentment towards him.
<< Honorable Fawzi, is the rumor true that you are designing a new model of Yasirpipe? >> asked another of the Masters in that same meeting.
The question pricked up the ears of many, but the interest was not truly complete until the answer, which was clear and concise:
<< Yes, that's how it is. >>
Those present fell silent in perfect synchrony, staring at the man who returned their incredulous gazes with glances of pride. Even Daysam couldn't help but show amazement.
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<< Of course, we know... but... do you really want to create a different Yasirpipe? >>
<< I confirm it. And I still don't understand why so much surprise. It is a process that has already been done in the past starting from the Tablet of Ses, then moving on to the Disks of Goll, and finally to the Yasirpipe. Why this amazement, then, at something that has already been done? >>
<< Well, because… because the current instrument is perfect. It is suitable for crafting, modeling, and fighting. It has been calibrated so that it can do everything.>>
<< It may be suitable for every job, but is it the same for every Master? >>
None of those present understood what Fawzi meant, looking to each other for a clear explanation. The Master did not take long to explain himself.
<< As far as I'm concerned, the Yasirpipe we are using is an object that limits the potential of a good percentage of Masters. All those keys, the way they must maintain the frequency, the excess concentration that each movement requires... I confess that I never liked it.
It Works? Yes.
It's perfect? I don't agree with this.
Its difficulty in playing it is as burdensome as its size. >>
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<< Not "easy", but rather "effective". >>
And after that announcement, Fawzi had no longer provided any information about it. A rift of opinion as wide as a canyon had formed among the colleagues and the exchange of views almost degenerated into a real brawl. “Crazy!” they shouted from one side, “Revolutionary!” they answered on the other.
Daysam, on the other hand, was in the middle, in the space of indecision.
He didn't doubt that a new version of the Yasirpipe could be created, but was it possible to do it with a different system? Had Fawzi discovered something about the communion between sound and Sand? Why didn't he share this discovery about him with others? He didn't dare think that Fawzi was all a farce to give himself importance, but he wasn't convinced by what he had heard either.
Daysam once greatly admired Fawzi.
Like many of his supporters, he hung on his lips and took his words at face value. He was reluctant to admit it, but some of his career goals had been achieved by following his suggestions. Of course, there was a note of envy, but it was nothing so important, as insignificant as an earthworm crawling on the ground. This is at least at the beginning.
Slowly, however, that worm had begun to creep deeper and deeper into his heart, giving space to negativity which, finding fertile ground, continued to grow luxuriantly. Daysam's abilities and his studies of the Sand had undoubtedly made him something of a celebrity among the Masters; his commitment to bringing out the potential of the Sand had not gone unnoticed, thus allowing him to receive the most important honors. But there was always that continuous comparison with Master Fawzi that made him understand that he was not considered at his level, and this left a bitter taste in his mouth that caused a feeling of resentment mixed with hatred to grow in him which had now become like a disease. This feeling had reached its peak upon his appointment as the new Rector of the school.
As soon as the news of his predecessor's death spread, the council of Masters informed him that they had chosen him for that important position. Daysam had apparently received the news with controlled happiness, but inside himself the satisfaction was enormous.
After the title of Master of the Sand, there was no other more important role one could achieve than that of Rector of Al Haimat, and now that the title had become his, he felt like the king of the world. He had finally reached the pinnacle of his career. Now that the throne of the school belonged to him, there was no doubt that he was the most important of the Sand Masters, no one could say that he was worth less.
But that moment that should have been his triumph was overshadowed by a bitter surprise.
In reality, the position of Rector had been proposed to Fawzi first. The role had been offered to him immediately after the death of the old Rector because the Council of Masters thought that no one else better than him could become the best representative of the Masters. However, Fawzi had refused, and they had even begged him on his knees to accept but that old fool had continued to reject the offer undaunted, choosing to renounce that title to be able to freely continue his project of creating a new instrument. A second choice… that's what Daysam was. Once again Fawzi had overshadowed him, among other things belittling the position of Rector of Al Haimat and choosing to pursue an absurd dream. Master Fawzi had a great mind, without a doubt he was the best of all the Masters of his century but, if a flaw had to be found in him, it would have been precisely in the fact that his dreams prevailed over his common sense.
From that day on, Daysam dedicated himself to working body and soul with a single objective: to train the best Masters to bring the caste he represented to perfection.
He had no further news of his colleague, nor had he even looked for them, until the day his sudden death was announced. As regards the existence of the phantom instrument that he so wanted to build, there was no news about that either, at least until Jabar confirmed its existence to him.
<< Gone! Not even a trace! >> exclaimed the General upon his return to the school.
After their brief and intense meeting, he had set off in search of Basim.
He returned a few days later, empty-handed but still full of irritation. It must have been a crazy search for him, his poor horse was almost on the verge of collapse from exhaustion.
<< I should have caught up with him along the way! There is only one, after all! >>
<< Jabar, calm down... >>
<< Don't tell me to calm down! I don't want to calm down at all! I'm still mad at you! >>
<< You can't blame me! I had no idea that Fawzi had managed to make the instrument! >>
<< But didn't you hear any rumors about it?! >>
<< Of course not! He kept the secret until the end! >>
Jabar indulged in a long string of disrespectful insults towards the late Master. Between one curse and another, they repeated how close they had been to being able to give shape to the idea they had been working on for seven years. Daysam, silent, remained alert to defend himself from another possible outburst of anger. He still trembled at the memory of that unusual reaction of that man who had always appeared composed and patient. In a calm voice, he asked what they could do now.
<< I sent some men forward. >> explained Jabar restlessly. << We must hope that that guy hasn't already arrived in Baharmis and instead stopped in another city. If he brings the Yasirpipe to the Sultan, the project is ruined. >>
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
<< Is that all? Can't you do anything else? >>
<< No, my dear. I cannot. Unlike you, who spend your time boasting about your very important title as Rector, I have many commitments that I cannot give up. >>
<< Oh, I didn't think that attending parties and bathing in rose water were essential chores. >>
<< Be less funny, we're both in the same boat, and up until now I've only been rowing. Now it's your turn to take up the oars and get busy. >>
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<< No... but you have the Sand and an entire school with you. >>
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<< I mean, if we don't find it, you must try to reinvent that thing yourself. If Fawzi could do it, you can do it too. >>
What kept Daysam from sending the General to hell, he didn't know either.
He had asked him the impossible, how could he create something from nothing, without knowing where to start? He couldn't say what was more absurd: his ally's expectation and the feat itself.
The sudden rustling of sand brought his mind back to the present.
It wasn't his habit to get distracted at work; certainly, the hypnotic noise caused by the moving sand and the relaxing effect of the medicine on his mind had weakened his concentration.
<< It didn't work this time either. Sand goes mad too easily. >>
<< It doesn't matter, try again. >>
Try again, try again… it was easy to say, without adequate information.
Daysam hated not having a concrete guide to work, but in this case, he had to make do on his own to understand what the secret of Fawzi's instrument was.
Music as a source of Sand control. Only an ingenious guy like him could succeed in such a utopian project. Daysam and a few other trusted people had been trying for days to recreate this unlikely success without managing to come even close to it.
Studying old manuscripts on the principles of sound, he had discovered that there had already been experiments to obtain total control of the Sand through music, an idea however abandoned due to its complexity and, in his opinion, absurdity.
Every musical instrument generates mechanical vibrations thanks to an element capable of oscillating around an equilibrium position when excited by the instrumentalist.
The vibrating element can be a string, air, a wooden or metal bar or plate, and so on; furthermore, the instruments must be able to play many notes, which means that each of them must have a mechanism for selecting the frequency of the oscillation produced.
This mechanism is very diverse.
For example: in stringed instruments, the frequency is selected indirectly by varying the length of the vibrating string. In the guitar, intonation occurs as in strings by shortening the strings with the fingers; however, the presence of pre-set bars on the keyboard guides the performer to play only pre-established notes. In reed wind instruments the source of the oscillation is generally very variable in frequency and the real selection takes place directly in the resonant body of the instrument, varying its effective length, that is, opening or closing the holes. For percussion, the situation is even more varied, as there are "non-tunable" percussion instruments, i.e. which do not produce a sound of a defined pitch.
Ultimately, therefore, the frequency of the sound produced depends on both the geometric characteristics and the physical characteristics of the vibrating element.
It is unthinkable, therefore, to attempt to use this musical arsenal for the Sand. It meant building different means of control, custom Sand-to-instrument calibrations, and a lot of other processes too hard to even imagine. Instead, with a single tool like the current Yasirpipe, all these problems did not arise. In short, such an object could not be successful.
“But then why do I have the feeling that Fawzi has built something better?” The Rector thought anxiously.
The experiments went on night and day, although it would be more honest to say that they were blind attempts.
They collected all those notes from which the Master must have started and hoped, as he had done, to find along the way the enlightenment that had led him to build that tool. They had even begun to build prototypes, trying to insert the parts used to make the Yasirpipe work, but without getting anything working. All they were conquering was just wasting Sand, scattering it around like wheat seed. Not even in the "chambers of silence", to limit any interference, did the outcome change.
<< Damn it! >> exclaimed Daysam frustrated.
He looked one last time at the paper sketch he had made of Fawzi's instrument and then tore it up in anger. Cursed be the day he was assembled.
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<< Is that a note of jealousy I hear in your voice? >>
<< Don't start Jabar. I'm not in the mood to listen to you. >>
Daysam was as agitated and in turmoil as the terrible Haboobwhich had been blowing with its hot and stormy wind for a good half hour throughout the territory around Baharmis, with clouds of red dust falling onto the plain oppressing flora and fauna. He had spent the last period under constant stress. Between work, experiments, and poor health he hadn't had a moment of peace. He was tired, exhausted, and above all particularly nervous. He felt himself crumbling one piece at a time like the rock of the Al Haimat canyon, from which dust and stones occasionally fell. For this reason, he had decided to be the one to reach Jabar this time, moving away from his stone castle to be able to change the scenery, hoping to find a new perspective in that city full of opportunities.
<< “Of course, I can do it! I am the Rector!”. Didn't you say something like that? >> muttered the General mockingly.
<< I swear! One more word and I'll kick you! >> the Rector replied between coughs. << If it weren't for the storm I would have already left! >>
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<< Continue to joke... I would like to see you in my place. >>
<< I didn't play if that's what you're implying. I'm working hard too. >>
<< Oh yes, ingratiating yourself with the prince is a big commitment. >>
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The two men exchanged glares of respective impatience.
The living room of Jabar's mansion which they discussed was spacious but, for them, who were detached from each other, it still seemed too narrow. The relationship had not yet healed after the Yasirpipe "accident" and even if they were now collaborating, it could not be said that they did so with serenity. At least they were on par when it came to failure, Daysam thought with a hint of satisfaction.
There was a reason why those two men were so eager to have that item.
Finding it would allow them to achieve important success both for their respective categories and for the kingdom they served.
According to their point of view, the kingdom was not as perfect as it wanted to appear. According to them, there were still many defects, mainly because the empire never did anything concrete to improve it. Baharmis had become a very rich and powerful city thanks to the monopoly of the Sand and the skills of the Masters who with their use had become invincible, which is why the desire for expansion was greatly attenuated. The tributary kingdoms would never have dared to go against a power that could easily destroy them, and this too had contributed to those who always had the duty to rest on their laurels instead of continuing to make the empire prosper. Under its golden appearance, Baharmis hid many problems that had accumulated over time and were starting to ruin those structures that made them unassailable. Over time, all this would have led the kingdom towards an inevitable decline which would also have involved the rest of the territory.
The goals of Daysam and Jabar were similar: they wanted to impose order and peace. But without the right means, which for them was equivalent to having an unstoppable military force, this could not have happened. From this perspective, the Masters could have played a fundamental role.
For years Jabar had privately financed Daysam and his school, with the condition of paying more attention to the courses dedicated to the Guardians, those who used the Sand for combat. His contribution was not particularly considerable compared to those of other donors, but it certainly guaranteed certain privileges that could not be renounced.
The strength of the Sand, combined with the abilities of a Guardian, is a very powerful bond limited only by the tool that binds them. In battle, you need to have all your senses alert because possessing the biggest weapon can't always lead to victory, especially if it is used badly. The Guardians of Riakesh are undoubtedly excellent, but not perfect.
Although it was the most popular, the course was at the same time the most detested by most of the Masters, who disavowed its use for violence and conquest. Yet, it was precisely thanks to this that the kingdom of Baharmis had been able to defend itself in the most serious moments and then achieve the current prosperity that had also made it lazy.
Fawzi was one of the biggest opponents; he was against war and despised violence. His opinion mattered a lot in the community and one word from him would have been enough to start a revolution. The thought that with a tool like Fawzi's, the Guardians could become exceptional fighters, particularly appealed to Daysam and Jabar, but the old geezer would never cooperate with them.
Then they would do anything to have the instrument in their hands.
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The words caught the Rector's attention like magic.
Jabar explained that the mysterious boy was called Basim and that he was the son of a well-known family of potters. His spies had given him a full profile report on the young man who, in one word, was a “good guy.” He didn't seem to have anything in his head, nor that he could get into trouble easily, and he didn't take advantage of the family's fame to put on airs. Everyone who knew him spoke well of him.
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Jabar continued speaking. The real surprise came now.
He explained that while observing Basim's profile, his men had discovered three important details:
The first was that he was a music enthusiast; the second, that he was a regular visitor to a music shop in Baharmis and that he was a friend of the owner; the third and last, the most important one, that the shop had been Fawzi's secret refuge.
The landlord had an empty room which he had rented to the Master for the duration of his stay in Baharmis; he didn't like the Sand Masters and after the death of his tenant he quickly got rid of all his stuff, including Yasirpipe. On reflection, it was reasonable to think that Basim had intended to bring the instrument to Al Haimat as tradition dictated. The only question that remained was whether he knew that it was a special instrument or not.
<< Wow… what a bunch of useless information. >>
<< How useless? Has the disease burned your brain? We finally found out who had our instrument. >>
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<< Having this person's identity in hand gives us a big advantage, don’t you understand? Finding him will be much easier now that we know what his face looks like. >>
<< If he isn't already dead somewhere... maybe I should make an offering to the Gods. >>
<< It's not the Gods you need, but me. With my resources, it will be easier to track him down. Now we need a stroke of luck. A small one. >>
Three sharp knocks shook the door. The General shouted "Come forward" and a man wrapped in a dusty cloak, under which the uniform of the palace guards could be seen, entered.
<< General, I have an important communication from the barracks. Perhaps we have news on the assassination of Master Fawzi. >> informed him.
There was a mutual look of surprise between the two men.
Emir the luthier was worried.
Another day had passed without any news of his friend Basim, and that meant another day he would spend with his heart crushed by the weight of worry.
He knew that something could happen to him because of the Sand: he had always maintained that it was bad luck! Everyone said how useful it was, but only he realized how much evil power that thing possessed.
He felt guilty. He regretted not having made more of an effort to stop him, so much so that he lost sleep and his appetite. He looked terrible, he almost seemed sick, and everyone pointed it out to him. Rumors about his family often reached him: he couldn't even imagine the apprehension those honest and good people were feeling.
He mulled over what he could do.
In the last period, he was considering asking for an audience with the sultan to ask him to do something. However, it is difficult to think that his majesty would have moved to look for a single boy... but perhaps he would have changed his opinion if he had mentioned the magical instrument...
"No! No! No! Don't be silly Emir!”The man thought.
“The sultan might think we had something to do with the murder of Master Fawzi!”He said to himself again.
Yet, he had to do something, he couldn't bear to sit idle any longer.
The frustration was just too much.
Enough! He couldn't go on like this anymore! It was time to do something!
And that something was to talk about!
<< Idiot! Idiot! Idiot! How could I allow my nephew to do such a foolish thing!? >> The patriarch of Basim's family shouted furiously.
He, and all the other relatives, did nothing but rail against the poor Emir who could do nothing but repeat how sorry he was. A couple of soldiers divided them, defending the luthier from being beaten by those people who had believed a lie for days. The old man had foreseen that reaction and couldn't blame them: he was guilty of keeping the truth hidden and deserved all the insults.
Inside the structure, only their voices could be heard and the Captain struggled to calm them down, at yet another curse from the patriarch, the General imposed silence with his powerful voice. Everyone fell silent, although the sobs weren't so easy to hold back.
<< Please gentlemen, this scene is not helpful. >> he then began to say, in a calm and reassuring voice. << The most important thing now is to find your relative. >>
<< Yes! Yes! Please! Find our boy again! >>
The relatives overlapped one another as they spoke, creating the same confusion as before and Jabar thought that perhaps Basim had also left so as not to have to put up with them anymore.
<< I promise you that we will do it... but we should act with caution, considering that he is carrying a dangerous object that is not his property. >>
<< What do you mean General? You won't think our Basim is a criminal? He is a good person! >>
<< I'm not saying that, but I have to stick to the rules. This means, that until his position is clarified, he will be considered an "involved person". >>
<< You have to believe us General! Our Basim wouldn't hurt a fly! >>
<< This will be up to me to decide. Go home now, the royal garrison will take care of it from here on out. >>
Reluctantly, Basim's relatives walked away full of apprehension, casting evil glances at Emir who was huddled in a corner pitying himself. The soldiers forced him to get up, tugging him gently. With the General and the Captain there in front of him, he could only tremble like a rabbit and struggled to get out the words to tell his story, fearing that after this he would end up in prison.
Over the next few hours, he talked so much that by the end his throat was sore, and his voice barely came out. When he was allowed to return home, he almost didn't believe it, thinking they were making fun of him. Jabar's honey voice, however, reassured him, exhorting him with gentle firmness not to worry anymore about his fear and anxiety, promising him that he would do everything to help his missing friend.
In his head, Jabar smiled: the stroke of luck had come sooner than he thought.
[1]Physics, Waves and Music. Musical instruments from the point of view of a physicist.
[2]A haboob (from the Arabic ????, which includes the root of the verb "to blow") is a very intense dust and sandstorm triggered by thunderstorms that sweep over the vast desert surfaces of the Sahara and the Middle East.