The air hummed with the weight of forgotten whispers, a sound only Lira could hear. She pressed her palm to the cold stone of the village well, her breath fogging in the early morning chill. The memory surged—images of a woman’s hands, calloused and trembling, pouring water into a clay bowl. A child’s laughter echoed, then silence. Lira pulled her hand away, heart hammering. The well had never shown her anything before.
“You feel it too, don’t you?” The voice cut through the mist. Lira turned to see Kael, his dark eyes fixed on her. His presence was a storm she couldn’t outrun. “The stones remember. They always have.”
She stepped back, the ground uneven beneath her boots. “What are you talking about?”
Kael’s lips curved into something like a smile. “You’re not the first. But you might be the last.”
The village square was already alive with tension. Farmers muttered over crates of rotting produce, their faces drawn. The river had turned black, its surface slick with an oily sheen. Lira’s fingers itched to touch the water, to see what secrets it held. But Kael’s words clung to her mind like a curse.
“The stones remember,” he’d said. What did that mean? And why had the well shown her a memory that wasn’t hers?
That night, Lira crept into the forest, the trees towering like ancient sentinels. Her torch flickered, casting jagged shadows on the moss-covered rocks. She ran her hand along a boulder, and the memory came again—this time sharper. A man in a tattered cloak, his face obscured, whispering to a child. The child’s eyes were hollow, reflecting the moon like shattered glass.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Kael’s voice was behind her, low and urgent. “They’re watching.”
Lira turned, her pulse a frantic rhythm. “Who?”
“The ones who took the memories. The ones who made the stones weep.”
She didn’t understand, but something in his tone sent a shiver down her spine. “Why me? Why now?”
Kael’s gaze softened, almost regretful. “Because you’re the only one who can hear them. And because the time is running out.”
The forest seemed to close in around them, the trees creaking as if alive. Lira’s mind raced. The well, the river, the memories—was it all connected? She thought of her mother, gone years ago, her final words a cryptic warning: “The stones will call you when the world is broken.” Had that moment come?
“We need to go,” Kael said, his hand brushing hers. “Before they find us.”
But Lira hesitated, her fingers grazing the rock one last time. The memory shifted, revealing a city in ruins, its towers crumbling into the earth. A figure stood at the center, their face hidden beneath a hood. Lira gasped, the vision slipping away as Kael pulled her into the shadows.
“What did you see?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
She couldn’t answer. The image burned in her mind, too vivid to ignore. “A city. Ruined. A person…” Her voice trailed off. “It felt real.”
Kael’s expression hardened. “It was real. And it’s coming again.”
They ran through the underbrush, the forest’s sounds fading into the distance. Lira’s thoughts churned. What had she seen? And why did it feel so familiar? The weight of the unknown pressed against her chest, but she didn’t stop. Not until they reached the edge of the woods, where a vast plain stretched out beneath a blood-red sky.
“This is it,” Kael said, his voice steady. “The place where it all began.”
Lira stared at the horizon, where the earth seemed to pulse like a living thing. The air was thick with the scent of rain and something else—something metallic, like blood. She could feel it now, the pull of the stones, their whispers growing louder. Whatever lay ahead, she couldn’t turn back.
“Whatever happens,” Kael said, his hand finding hers again, “we face it together.”
Lira nodded, her resolve hardening. The journey had only just begun, but she knew one thing for certain: the stones would not be silent much longer.
