Before the world broke—before the sky screamed, before the Choir touched the bones of Celestis Veil—there was a morning that tried, with all its fragile strength, to stay ordinary.
Dawn crept softly across the outskirts, brushing pale gold over weathered rooftops and the crooked fences bordering the southern fields. Thin mist drifted above the grass, carrying a faint chill that smelled of dew and stone. Birds stirred lazily on old beams. Somewhere, a waterwheel groaned in its steady rhythm.
It was a quiet morning.
A peaceful one.
And Zephryn felt something wrong beneath it.
He walked the narrow path between Solara's herb gardens, boots brushing over the overgrown flowers she insisted grew best when left "free to choose." His hands stayed tucked into his cloak pockets, shoulders slightly hunched from habit rather than cold. The breeze lifted the strands of his uneven blue hair, revealing eyes still heavy with sleep.
The hum beneath his ribs flickered again.
A soft vibration.A whisper.A warning disguised as breath.
He exhaled slowly. "Not again…"
"You're doing the face," a familiar voice called behind him. "The 'I heard something weird again' face."
Selka walked up beside him—quiet steps, hood pulled low, dark hair tied back in a loose knot. Her eyes scanned him without turning. She always read him too easily.
"You felt it again, didn't you?" she murmured.
Zephryn tried to shrug it off. "It's nothing."
"It never is," Selka replied.
He didn't answer. He didn't know how. The hum had been growing stronger lately—waking him at night, rippling under the ground, tugging at him like something old remembered his name.
Before he could gather his thoughts, someone vaulted the fence beside them with far too much confidence.
Yolti landed in a cloud of dust, stumbled, caught herself, and threw her hands up in triumph.
"Boom," she declared. "Stuck the landing."
"You nearly died," Selka said.
"I nearly looked cool," Yolti corrected. "Totally worth it."
Zephryn cracked a faint smile—rare, but real.
Kaelen was already waiting outside his house at the top of the path, arms crossed, looking like he'd been awake for hours.
"Finally," he called. "I've been suffering out here like a forgotten prince."
"You were outside for seven minutes," Selka said.
"Seven minutes too long."
"It's not even cold," Yolti muttered.
Kaelen gasped dramatically. "Then why do my feelings feel frozen?"
"Because you're soft," Yolti answered.
He pointed at her. "Your mom's soft."
"My mom's dead."
Kaelen froze. Yolti smirked. "Got you."
"You're evil."
"And you're slow. Let's go—Lyceum starts tomorrow. Last day of freedom!"
Zephryn glanced toward Solara's hut. "I'm going to see her first."
Selka nudged him gently. "Go. She's waiting."
Zephryn walked across the small yard and tapped twice before entering.
Warm scents immediately filled the room—herbs, oils, simmering riverroot. Solara stood at the table, sleeves rolled up, hair tied in a loose braid, stirring a glowing mixture that cast golden light on her face.
Her eyes lifted the moment he stepped inside.
"There you are," she said softly. "I felt your hum five minutes ago."
Zephryn froze. "…You felt it?"
She approached, brushing a hand across his cheek. "You shake the room when you're unsettled."
He tried to speak. She gently cut him off.
"Don't apologize. Resonance is not something to fear."
Her voice carried the warmth of someone who had raised him quietly, fiercely, without ever asking for anything in return.
"You slept poorly," she said, studying his eyes.
"How do you—"
"Your eyes carry your bruises," she murmured.
He hesitated. The truth weighed too heavily.
"…The hum. It's louder."
Solara's breath caught—barely noticeable, but real.
"Zeph," she whispered. "Listen to me."
He did.
"Hum what you feel. Not what you fear."
He didn't understand. He never fully understood Solara's teachings. They felt older than the Veil itself. But her words always eased something deep inside him.
"Go on," she said gently. "Your friends are waiting."
Zephryn stepped outside. Selka was leaning against a fence post, Yolti was balancing on the edge of a barrel, and Kaelen was complaining loudly about his future Lyceum exam failures.
"Did Solara give you special breakfast?" Kaelen asked.
"No."
"Then why do you look like she blessed your soul?"
"He always looks like that," Yolti said.
They walked together toward the old stone ridge. Birds scattered overhead. The wind shifted slightly. A lantern creaked on its chain.
Ordinary sounds.
But Zephryn's hum struck again—sharp, deep, resonant.
He stopped.
"Did you feel that?" he whispered.
Yolti looked around. "Feel what?"
Kaelen frowned. "Zeph, if this is about the wind again—"
"It wasn't the wind," Selka said quietly.
Zephryn knelt and placed his palm on the ground.
A tremor pulsed beneath his hand.Subtle.Soft.Wrong.
A heartbeat beneath the soil.
"…That wasn't normal," Yolti whispered.
Kaelen forced a laugh. "Probably a caravan."
"Kaelen," Selka said. "No caravan makes the ground hum."
Zephryn stood slowly.
He didn't say aloud that he had heard something else—a faint whisper beneath consciousness.
A voice he hadn't heard since childhood.
They kept walking.
Behind them, Solara stood in the doorway, watching the four disappear into morning light. Her fingers trembled against the frame.
"Oh, Zephryn…" she breathed.
Far above the outskirts, the Veilglass horizon shimmered—just slightly.As if struck by a flaw too small for the world to see.
Tomorrow, the Lyceum would begin.Tomorrow, everything would change.
But today, the quiet held.Barely.
And none of them knew it was the last morning Celestis Veil would ever wake without fear.