Ling Ling Deep Ling ★ Fresh

Elias spun around. Standing before him was a figure draped in robes woven entirely from horsehair and broken violin strings. The figure held a bow made of pure light and a violin carved from a single, giant piece of flawless tiger-flame maple. The face was obscured, a shifting blur of every prodigy who had ever lived. "Ling Ling?" Elias whispered, his voice trembling.

"To the mediocre, yes," Ling Ling stated, raising the glowing bow. "But to those who seek perfection, the day bends. There are corridors between seconds. There are oceans of time hidden inside a rest. Pick up your instrument." Ling Ling Deep Ling

Elias looked at his worn violin. "I can't. My hands... they burn." Elias spun around

Frustrated, Elias closed his eyes and played harder, faster, pushing his muscles past the point of exhaustion. That was when the shift happened. The face was obscured, a shifting blur of

On the music stand rested a note, written in perfect, flawless calligraphy: “Not bad. But you missed a shift at hour thirty-seven. Go practice.”