The morning arrived without sound.
No wind, no bird, no rushing of waves – only a deep, vibrating tone that drifted through the air, as if the world itself had found its voice.
Lina sat on a rock above the sea, barefoot, knees pulled up.
Below her, the water shimmered as if something within it was breathing.
Gold and silver alternated, sending small pulses across the surface, like answers to questions she had never asked.
Alaric stepped behind her. His shadow fell across her shoulder.
"You haven't slept."
"I wanted to see if it would come back."
"Did it?"
She shrugged. "I don't know if I'm imagining it. But sometimes... I hear them. Not loudly. Like a thought that isn't mine."
He sat down beside her. "Maybe this is how it begins, when two worlds learn to speak the same language."
"And if they forget about us in the process?"
"Then we remind them."
She smiled faintly. "You sound like a prophet."
"Just tired," he murmured, "and too much in love with you."
