Chiaki had made significant progress toward the shrine perched atop the mountain, with Vivia at her side, carrying her brother—Cassian—draped limply over her shoulders.
They reached a primary trail winding through the high canyons at the rear of Lyvoria Crest, navigating the more isolated and perilous stretches of the range.
A sudden burst of wind swept through the pass—sharp, relentless, and cold. It howled between the rocks and cliffs, tugging at their clothes and hair, carrying with it flecks of dust and the crisp bite of elevation. The higher they climbed, the more the air felt alive, almost as if the mountain itself was testing their resolve.
The girls paused at the edge of a narrow ridge, surrounded by flurries of birds in flight—some common, others majestic and rare. Overhead, distinctive eagles circled and shrieked, their cries echoing across the vast mountain sky. Chiaki's gaze lingered forward, her voice low and uncertain.
"Can we really trust that Avenya will help my brother… and teach you how to resonate more effectively?"
"I'm not sure," Chiaki admitted. "Morvain said she might be able to teach me, but the issue is… Avenya avoids using her power altogether. That's why she lives outside the city. I think she did it to protect others. Beyond that, I don't know much."
Vivia glanced over her shoulder, checking Cassian's condition. He hadn't stirred—still trapped in the same unbroken sleep.
"That doesn't sound promising," she said, her voice tight with concern. "What if she refuses to help him? Or decides not to teach you at all? We could be climbing this mountain for nothing. We can't afford to waste our time only to be turned away."
A weary sigh slipped from Chiaki's lips, heavy with frustration. "There's not much else we can do. It's better to take the risk than walk away like it was never a choice to begin with. Besides, we can't let ourselves spiral into fear over what might happen. Not if we want to restore your brother's soul… and make him whole again."
Her words settled in Vivia's mind, quiet but firm—undeniable. She knew there were no alternatives, no shortcuts to a true reconstruction of Cassian's spirit.
"He means everything to me," Vivia murmured. "You're right. Risks like this are inevitable, but we don't have the strength—or the resonance—to do this alone. I just hope Avenya's guidance will be enough to bring him back safely."
"That reminds me…" Chiaki glanced over her shoulder, waiting until Vivia's full attention was on her. "You and Cassian—your souls are linked, right? So why did you come here in the first place?"
Without breaking her pace up the mountain trail, Vivia responded honestly. "Cassian and I are still new to soul-linking. Our abilities aren't refined enough yet—we can't fully connect or communicate through the link. That's why we started studying soul resonance more seriously, especially how it works and how it can be severed. We heard rumors about someone with the ability to sever a soul… and we needed to eliminate that threat. It's a critical danger to any Resonator."
She exhaled. "But right now, our abilities are weak, undeveloped. We don't know nearly enough. Honestly… we came on this mission of our own accord. No orders. Just us."
"You came here on your own?" Chiaki asked, brows tightening slightly. "So you didn't receive a letter like we did? Hmph… I guess my bloodline's more hidden—and apparently more valuable—for someone's research."
She lifted a finger to her lips, pausing in thought. "That reminds me… those memories I've been having. Being a test subject and all that—it's a twisted story to carry, almost too much to process. But… some of it feels familiar. Like déjà vu I can't shake."
"Chiaki," Vivia spoke steadily, her voice cutting through the mountain air as they continued along the winding path, beginning to descend. "Since you arrived in Lyvoria Crest, you've been through hell. With everything you've heard… what do you actually believe? And what do you doubt? As for your power—do you only plan to master resonance? Is that really your end goal?"
Chiaki took a moment before responding, her gaze fixed ahead. "Right now, I'm focused on deepening my understanding of soul resonance. But that's just one piece of it. What I really want… is to learn more about who I am. To grow strong enough to stand on my own, especially when there's no one left beside me."
Her voice softened slightly. "I don't want other people making my choices for me. But… I've been thinking more about what happened between us earlier. It's right—choosing for yourself is important. Still… that doesn't mean we should ignore what others have to say."
Vivia tilted her head slightly, a puzzled expression crossing her face as she listened to Chiaki's words. "I know what I did was out of line… and honestly, I never imagined I'd act that way. But I've had time to think it through."
She exhaled gently. "We should be more open with each other—share our thoughts honestly, and find a balance between making decisions together and standing by our own choices. That's something we'll have to work on next time."
Her gaze turned forward again. "For now, Avenya's the best chance I have at growing stronger."
"You're still aiming to grow stronger…?" Vivia gave a faint, reflective smile. "You really do remind me of our people. We've always sought strength—always pushed to deepen our understanding of our abilities."
Her expression darkened slightly. "Rhaziel's become a serious threat. We tried to stop him once… but as you know, that ended with Cassian's soul being severed. His power is on another level entirely."
She paused, voice lowering. "I don't even know if the advanced stages of soul resonance could match him. He's a danger that's not easily erased."
She looked ahead, eyes narrowed. "Most people ignore him—he stays quiet, hidden in the shadows. But no matter how long he lurks in the dark… the truth about him won't stay buried forever."
At the northern edge of the village—nestled where the rising slope of the mountain dipped into a natural cradle—stood a stone shrine built into the base of the cliffs. At its heart stood a tall, graceful statue of a woman carved from pale marble. Her expression was serene and timeless, with one hand extended outward, palm facing the sky as if calling something unseen to descend. Her long robes were etched with soft folds, flowing as if caught in a mountain breeze, and her bare feet rested on a raised stone adorned with faded glyphs.
The villagers had gathered in quiet reverence before her. Some knelt on woven mats, others stood with heads bowed, while a few children clung to their mothers' hands, mimicking their gestures. An elder woman, her back slightly hunched and her hair wrapped in cloth, stepped forward with a walking stick in one hand and a folded strip of blue fabric in the other.
She raised her voice—not loudly, but clearly, with a rhythm shaped by memory and ritual.
"Lady of Echoes," she began, "we speak through the silence. Hear our fears, though we hide them behind our work. See our wounds, though we bury them deep. Guard those lost beyond the veil. Remember those the world forgets. Remind us how to hope."
The villagers responded in unison, their voices soft but steady. Some closed their eyes. Others pressed palms together or whispered the words under their breath.
"Lady of Echoes," the elder continued, "we offer what little we have. May your eyes fall upon the weary. May your mercy find those unheard. Walk with those who wander, and shine light upon the fallen."
When the final words faded into the breeze, a long silence followed. The scent of dried sage and ash drifted up from the small incense basins at the statue's feet, curling through the air as the wind shifted gently through the cliffs.
Then, slowly, the villagers began to rise. They bowed low before the statue, one by one, before returning to their work. Some returned to the fields. Others gathered tools or began repairing rope nets hung between wooden beams. Voices rose again, light and mundane—but respectful.
One young boy lingered behind, staring up at the face of the marble woman with wide, searching eyes.
"Do you think she really hears us?" he asked quietly.
His grandmother, standing beside him, smiled and rested a hand gently on his head.
"If your voice is true, child," she said, "then yes—she hears it. Especially the ones we don't say out loud."
The boy said nothing more. But as they turned to leave, he gave the statue one last look—just long enough for the breeze to lift the edge of his tunic and the faint scent of sage to follow him into the waking village.
As Chiaki and Vivia rounded the jagged bend near the upper trail, the village came into view—nestled in a sun-dappled cradle of stone and green, just beneath the cliffs. Far below, the villagers stood in reverent silence before a tall, marble statue, half-shaded by curling incense smoke and whispering trees.
Chiaki slowed to a stop.
She didn't know why—but something about the sight below struck her harder than it should've. A strange, invisible thread tugged at her chest. The statue's figure, barely distinguishable from this height, called to her with a presence that didn't make sense. Not threatening… but not gentle either.
She narrowed her eyes. "What… is that?"
Vivia followed her gaze, adjusting Cassian on her back slightly.
"That's the shrine of the Lady of Echoes," she said. "The villagers built it generations ago. She's not a god—not exactly. More like… a guardian they believe once lived among them."
"Never heard of her," Chiaki muttered, eyes still locked on the statue. Her fingers brushed her arm absentmindedly, as if some invisible chill had crawled up her sleeve. "Why does she feel… familiar?"
"You're feeling the mountain," Vivia replied gently. "It's steeped in old memory. This place has held grief, hope, death, rebirth—all of it—for longer than most cities have existed. If the Lady of Echoes is real… maybe she never left."
Chiaki said nothing. But something in her expression shifted—uncertainty creeping behind her calm. Her gaze lingered on the statue's outstretched hand, barely visible, palm facing skyward like it was reaching for something.
"Feels like she's looking right at me," she said under her breath. "But I don't even know her name."
Vivia's eyes flicked toward her.
"She doesn't need you to know it. The Lady's not a figure of worship—she's a presence. The kind that listens when no one else does. They say she protects lost voices… and answers the ones that were never spoken."
Chiaki's throat tightened. That last line struck too close.
A breeze picked up, lifting her hair slightly—carrying with it the faint scent of smoke and sage, even from this distance. She shut her eyes.
"…Maybe that's why I can't stop looking at her," she murmured. "Because I've got too many voices inside me that I've never said out loud."
Vivia didn't respond at first. But after a moment, she stepped forward and gave Chiaki's shoulder a light nudge.
"We'll reach the village soon. Maybe you'll find some answers here, even if it's not the ones you were looking for."
Chiaki glanced toward Vivia, eyes drifting to the still, fragile form of Cassian draped across her shoulders. Her gaze then shifted back to the land below, where the shrine stood silent and serene.
"Does that statue have anything to do with Soul Resonance?" she asked, her tone thoughtful. "Morvain only ever mentioned Avenya, not… whatever that is."
Vivia gave a small shake of her head. "I'm sorry… I don't really know. Honestly, I'm not sure if what I told you earlier was even accurate. Everything I said—I read it in a book. That's all. The statue's called the Lady of Echoes. Weird name, I know. But right now, we need to focus on finding Avenya. She's the only one who might be able to help my brother."
Chiaki nodded, letting Vivia's words settle in. Her eyes remained fixed on the shrine, but her mind stayed rooted to their task. "You're right," she said quietly. "We can't lose sight of the mission."
A beat of silence passed. Then, softer, Chiaki added, "Still… I won't lie. The deeper I dive into all this… the more nervous I get. Studying Soul Resonance—it's starting to feel more like stepping into something I might never come back from."
To be continued...