Elder Rin taught theory when no one else wanted to.
That afternoon, Vale was summoned to a narrow side chamber lined with scroll racks. Dust floated in the air, undisturbed.
Rin placed a scroll on the table. "This predates the Covenant."
Vale unrolled it carefully.
Inside were diagrams—circles within circles, intersected by thin lines. Notes filled the margins.
"The Law of Vibration," Rin said. "Everything moves. Even stillness is a pattern too small to see."
Vale traced a circle with his finger. "Then why can't everyone resonate the same way?"
Rin smiled faintly. "Because vibration requires contrast. If you move exactly as the world moves, you vanish."
Vale stiffened.
"That's your problem," Rin continued. "And your advantage."
He tapped the center of the diagram. "Those who amplify sound create waves. Those who oppose it create resistance. But those who fail to echo…"
Rin met Vale's eyes.
"…change the boundary itself."
Vale felt a strange pressure in his chest—not warmth, not sound. Alignment.
"I don't know how to use that," Vale admitted.
Rin rolled the scroll closed. "Good. Knowledge before application. That is how you survive."