In the weeks following the boy's song on the cliff, the skies over the Archipelago of Aurin shimmered in unusual hues. The stars blinked in rhythmic patterns, not random but deliberate, as if echoing back the song he had offered. Scholars and dreamers alike turned their eyes skyward, whispering theories of a celestial choir or an ancient race beyond the sky harmonizing at last with Earthbound voices.
Elen, now a nomad of song and echo, felt it first. While camped beside a quiet river in the southern forests, she woke to her own heartbeat syncing with a sound that wasn't her own. The waters, once still, trembled with a cadence so gentle it could barely be called music—yet it was unmistakably alive.
The melody wove itself into her dreams and rose with her breath when she awoke. It was not a melody of mourning or power—it was one of recognition. A welcome. A reunion.
