High Wings festival

You think you've got the skills? Go on then, show us how it's done.

Though music and melodies are an integral part of everyday life, all of them serve a function. From transportation to heating food and healthcare, there is no such thing as an aimless piece. Moreso, music as an art is generally frowned upon, when not viewed as utterly heretic. People have been sentenced to death for the mere crime of holding a private concert with unreliable friends. Thus, it comes as no surprise that some Hedonists would organize a huge festival of creative music.

Contest of skill

The festival is free for anyone bold enough to agree to perform and costs a hefty price to the spectators. The goal of the show is to attract a greater number of Winged Resonance, hence the name. Every style and instrument are allowed, as long as the song has no actual effect and does not resonate with anything other than the pure essence of its Song.

The performance is strictly evaluated by multiple sensitive resonance sensors and the count of light creatures duly noted. The resulting song is often distorted, aggressive to the ear and holds no constructed pattern whatsoever to fit in the criteria. Yet, the audience praises such performance, for both its illegality and difficulty. Winged Resonance does not care, for they gather in huge numbers even if there is no harmony in the notes being played.

For the fifty-seventh consecutive year, the winner is... Illyn Tydale!

The winner is chosen after the five days of the festival, in which each contestant has at most three occasions to display their skill. They win a cut of the total inscription fee, between 5 and 10% which, considering the attendees and the cost, represents a fine fortune, as well as the instrument of their choice in the collection of the festival's founder, Antinuous.

Though the place changed several times in the 18647 years since the first edition, it is mostly held on Keystone, the turf of Antinuous. Its neutrality regarding the Canticles and most organizations makes people feel safer, as no one can legally arrest them during the festival.

The Tydale Hegemony

At some point in the festival's history, the virtuoso Illyn Tydale decided to take over the contest. Universally recognized as one of the most talented musicians the universe has ever known, winning a mere contest of art was a breeze to him. Noncontent to win an edition, he signed up for the next event, and the one after that. For more than a century, he sat at the top, refusing every offer to become a judge rather than a contestant.

During this dark period for the festival, application dwindled so much so that some times he was the only one worthy of attention. The whole event almost died out due to lack of attendance, until Tydale finally agreed to become a judge after his 109th victory. This news ignited the spark for all aspiring contestants, as anyone had a chance now that the impossible wall was no more.

Winged Resonance

Small creatures made of light assuming the shape of butterflies, they appear when a master of the Song infuses their soul into the art.

Keystone

The pride of Antinuous, this station orbits a gas giant in the Pléimos system, a lawless place where it manages to remain neutral in the neverending turf war between criminals and officials.

Forbidden show

Despite its popularity and large attendance, the festival is strictly prohibited and viewed as a blasphemy. The sentence for even witnessing the spectacle is death without any form of judgment. The hedonist organizers, of course, do not care. They are either too powerful or slippery to run into any trouble, except perhaps an Inquisitor. Regular people, however, take huge risks to get to the festival location. For them, hiding their identity is the key to a safe return home. Each time, a few of them are caught, identified, and swiftly executed, but it did little to discourage others. It became part of the thrill, the risk of getting caught adding to the excitement around the event.

All these people were out of their mind, thought Deleine with a slight disdain. Putting their lives on the line just to enjoy heresy turned into art. But what right had she to judge them? She was the same as them, or even worse actually. Because she worked for the law enforcement office, in the heresy department. She never had the chance to deal with festival-goers, but has been curious since she heard of it.
So here she was, at Keystone. She took a month-long leave, covered her traces, prepared a rock-solid alibi and arrived just a day before the start of the festival. So far, it has been nothing extraordinary. A few mediocre performers failing to abide by the strict rules, therefore not heretic per se, a few stands selling questionable food and some merch around the winged resonance. This was to be expected, the main event would not begin before the evening, and the most awaited were always fashionably late.
She strolled past a corner where a teenager in a hoodie was trying to sell her some drugs she never heard of and almost bumped into someone. Confused, she raised her head to apologize to the tall stranger before realizing he was no stranger at all. His name was Adrian Stedler, and he was her co-worker. She did not expect him there, even if he was a hands-on man. Was he investigating, or perhaps infiltrating the festival?
Then she noticed that he was in casual wear, and not wearing his service weapon. Could it be that he was on Keystone to enjoy the show, just like her? But if he says he saw her at High Wings her career, moreso her life would be finished! Wait... Wasn't it the same for him? His puzzled face probably looked just like hers. The silence between them was becoming awkward. She had to say something.
— What about we just forget we ever met each other and go on our way.
— Agreed.
They walked past, each eyeing the other suspiciously before he vanished into the crowd and she around the corner. It was just great. Two anti-heresy officers attending the most illegal festival across the galaxy, and between several million people, they bump into each other. What were the odds?