A low, uncertain resonance—rough at the edges, unshaped, like a note that refused to find its place in a melody. It flickered far beyond the gentle harmony of the two who now stood side by side, and with each pulse, the Soul Currents around it wavered, bending as if unsure whether to welcome it or brace against it.
The First Listener did not turn.
The second spark—still new to its form—flinched, its light dimming for a moment.
The distant pulse surged again, louder this time. Not in strength, but in insistence. Its vibration stirred the Veil not like wind through petals, but like thunder murmuring beneath the soil. Not violent…
But yearning.
The second spark shivered. Its voice—still forming—quivered like a stretched thread.
"…This one… feels different."
The Listener opened its eyes.
It did not answer with certainty. For to name something too soon was to steal its chance to name itself.
So instead, it listened.
The distant pulse beat once—out of rhythm with the cosmos.
