Song of the morning in forgotten lands:
"As long as the land remembers the name,
and stones whisper the tongue of the ancestors,
as long as roots drink the dreams of trees,
and stars have not faded above —
the Echo lives.
And when it disappears,
the heart of the world falls silent.
But even in silence —
there is a note."_
The northern village of Kai-Sean, lost between canyons and the bones of ancient trees that had long since stopped blooming. It was on no map. And though its people lived quietly, everyone knew it was the last stop before nothingness.
Morning didn't begin with bells, but with the crackle of wind moving through the empty arches of an old temple. Birds did not sing here. Even the river fish swam in silence.
Tarion was, as always, among the first to awaken.
He sat atop the roof of the old forge, watching as dawn poured dull gold over the cliffs. Beside him sat Laina, his best friend since childhood. Her hair was tied into several rough braids, and around her neck hung a bone amulet — the only thing left from her mother, a village shaman.
— "You saw the dream again?" she asked, not taking her eyes off the horizon.
— "Yes… but today, it didn't end." Tarion replied quietly, as if afraid the wrong ears might hear.
Flashback: 7 years ago
Night. A child's cry.
Young Tarion hides beneath the bed. The house is burning.
His mother — on her knees, whispering something as a flaming beam crashes nearby.
Her eyes meet his — not with fear, but with… farewell.
— "If you hear the music, don't run from it…"
— "It will find you — because you carry it."
Then — a sound. Like a string drawn tight in the air.
And silence.
Tarion came to. Laina looked at him with concern.
— "What did she tell you?"
— "That I carry something inside me. And that it's not of this world."
The village was waking. Out into the street ran Doren, the second of their little trio — tall, slightly awkward, and most of all, fond of carving small wooden figures. He raised his hand and shouted:
— "Hey, Resonants! Come on, the forest's waiting!"
Tarion smiled crookedly. That was what they used to call themselves as children — the Resonants. Back then, no one knew that word would one day carry power. And that the world would shudder when it was heard again.
As they walked toward the old forest, Tarion felt it again…
A faint trembling in the earth, like a heartbeat.
A whisper in the air, like a distant voice.
And warmth emanating from a stone he brushed against on the path.
— "Tarion… do you feel that, or is it just me?" Laina whispered.
He nodded.
This day — was different.
By midday, they stumbled upon a stone they had never seen before.
It stood at the center of a clearing where trees had been cut long ago, covered in spirals and unfamiliar symbols. Around them — dead silence.
— "This is a remnant of the pre-Rift world…" Laina said, touching its surface.
— "No," Tarion replied, his eyes clouded.
— "This… is a source. And it's singing."
Here, for the first time, he heard the Resonance clearly.
Not a whisper. Not an echo.
But a true, deep note that passed through his entire being.
It spoke: "The awakening has begun."
And somewhere far beyond the village,
ancient forces — were waking too.