One Who Already Knew

The third ring had formed completely now.

It pulsed in slow, steady intervals — not as a call, but as confirmation.

And someone was already there.

A figure stood at the edge of the ring, silhouetted against the indigo sky. Still. Waiting.

Cairo’s breath caught. “We’re not the first to arrive.”

“No,” said Orion, gaze fixed forward. “But maybe we were always meant to follow.”

Sienna stepped forward, the drone hovering above her shoulder. “Can we approach?”

Kai nodded. “We listen first. Like always.”

They walked the curve of the path, the grass bowing gently beneath their feet as if guiding their way. When they reached the ring’s edge, the figure turned.

It was a young woman. Sharp-eyed. Steady. Dressed for distance, not for show.

She looked at them with no surprise. Only a calm, quiet readiness.

“I knew you’d come,” she said.

Cairo tilted their head. “How?”

The woman smiled faintly. “Because I heard your well before you built it.”

She stepped back and revealed the center of the ring — not empty, but filled with stacked stones, tools, and objects placed with care.

“This is a listening well,” she said. “It doesn’t remember or transmit. It receives.”

Sienna’s voice was hushed. “From where?”

The woman met her gaze. “Everywhere that was forgotten.”

She knelt beside the ring and laid a hand on the center. The air shifted — not louder, but closer.

And the well responded.

Not with light.

But with voice.

A layered hum.
A woven tone.
Fragments becoming form.

Kai whispered, “It’s learning our language.”

The woman nodded. “No. Yours is learning it.”

And above them, stars began to echo.