The days passed like gentle waves upon a sunlit shore. What had begun as a quest to return harmony to a fragmented world had now evolved into a way of life—a continuous, evolving melody. But for Eyla, the journey was far from over.
Even as the newly rekindled world settled into a rhythm of restoration, a whisper tugged at her spirit. Not a song, not a voice, but a question. Something unfinished. It often came at night when the winds stilled and the stars blinked like patient watchers in the sky.
Crescendo noticed her restlessness. "The song within you still seeks something," he murmured one evening as they sat beside a fire in the heart of the Verdant Expanse. "The world sings again, and yet you remain untethered."
Eyla stared into the dancing flames. "Because I keep wondering—what lies beyond the last chord? We awakened the Remnants, yes. We restored the melody between lands, between hearts. But I can feel it, Crescendo… there's still a silence that waits."
