The sacred stones began to weep.
Not with water, but with fractured resonance. On the seventh morning, the valley's sound chaed. Not son. Not echo. But a kind if sobbing that came frim beneath the earth. People fell silent. They didn't know whether to pray or hide.
Yohwa touched the central stone. it didn't glow. But when he pressed his ear to it, he hard a sound not words, But emotion. Deep sorrow. Longing without a name. Regret without origin.
"This stone isn't speaking." Numa said. "it's mourning."
Rava stod at the edge of the circle, her eyes fixed on the stones that had once been silent. Now thew trembled gently, like bodies holding back tears, " The Soul Eclipse has reached the core of resonance," she said . " And that core isn't core power. it's pain."
Yohwa began walking form stone to stone. Each time he touced one, he flet a diffrent emotion. One stone held rage. Another held shame. One was simply silent, but ist coldness pierced him.
He asked himself: Do these stones hold more than memory? Do they hold fellings that were never given space?
in the village, children began drawing faces on stones. The faces didn't smile .
They cried. But not with fear, With honesty. With tears that had long been held back.
Numa began mapping teh new resonance patterns. " This isn't acestral resonance," he said. "it's inner resonance. The stones are showing who they are when not seen as symbols."
Rava carved a small stone. She didn't make a symbol. She made a trembling line. it wasn't straight, it wasn't beatiful. But when Yohwa touched it, he felt relief. As if the stone said, I too have been broken.
That night, Yohw dreamed. He stood om tje valley, and all the stones wept. But not from sadness. From finaly being able to speak. He saw stones that had never glowed now shining softly. He saw faces that had once been lsot now appearong in resonance.
"The stone that weeps is not weak," said voice in the dream. " it is the stone brave enough to fell."
Yohwa awoke with wet eyes. He didn't lnow of he had cried, or if the stones had cried through him.
The next morning, he stood in the center of the circle. He carried no hammer. He spoke no words. He simply listened,
And the stones sang. But this time, their song wasn't about strength. it was about the courage to feel.