Ask.

  Possibility and potential sat at the base of an infinite tree, and Raelin found themselves leaning more into exploring—testing the waters before delving deep into the hard questions. They did not know if they could trust this thing made of stone.

  “Do you have a name?” Raelin asked—simple and gauging.

  ‘I was not given one. Names are not necessary for nature. Nature is knowledge, as I am knowledge.’

  Raelin blinked slowly at the length of the answer, feeling perplexed.

  “And the Lady? She cannot hear you? Or can she?”

  ‘At my core, I sleep. Words can be carved into stone and speak through words, but the stone itself is not alive.’

  “But you are alive?”

  ‘No more than the stone below is alive.’

  “The stone above is pretty alive, threaded with Arcana I have never seen.”

  ‘I cannot sense this magic.’

  Raelin tried to think of the magic that had presented itself in the silver and golds of moonlight, but the memory was too slippery to grasp. There was no way to describe it without some understanding of what to associate it with. A glance at the globes of light they had summoned a second time, and they pondered the connection.

  “Can you feel my magic?” Raelin asked, frustration creeping in.

  ‘No.’

  “Can you sense anything?”

  ‘Sense, as in smell? Feel, as in touch? I cannot. I heard the song.’

  “Song? Like when I made my light?”

  ‘Is this your magic?’

  “Yes. I can sing, hum, make noise in patterns, or speak rhymes and make things happen.”

  ‘This is your magic.’

  “Yes. I am what you may call a bard.”

  ‘Hello, Bard.’

  “No, I am Raelin. Bard is what I am. Like…” Raelin paused. “If my name is Raelin, I am made of flesh as you are made of stone, and what I can do is magic with sound. What are you, if you are made of stone but have no name?”

  ‘Knowledge.’

  “What kind of knowledge?”

  ‘I do not understand the question. Knowledge is knowledge. If it is of the earth and stone, I know it.’

  Raelin paused. “And can the Lady access your knowledge?”

  ‘No. She cannot hear my sound.’

  “But I can?”

  ‘Are you not able to make magic from sound?’

  Raelin stepped back from the golem of stone, withdrawing their hand and clutching it to their chest. This is a waste of time! they shouted at themselves internally. Knowledge of the earth and stone couldn’t save Byne. The Lady lied.

  “You can’t help me,” Raelin growled, balling their hands into fists and striking out at the stone.

  The stone was solid, and the impact felt as if Raelin had nearly broken the bones at the knuckle. But before they could react to the pain, a bright white light flared—both within their mind and before their eyes—like an incredibly loud bell struck too close to the ears.

  Crying out from the intensity, Raelin hid their face in the crook of their arm and waited for the revenants to fade behind their eyes before daring to look at the golem again.

  Nothing had changed. It remained as it was, with the light globes dancing merrily around it like a halo—just as Raelin had asked them to.

  This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “What… what was that?!”

  Nothing.

  Raelin slammed their palms back onto the golem, barely registering the pain from the punch in their injured hand. “WHAT WAS THAT?”

  ‘The Core.’

  “What is the Core? Why did it do that?”

  ‘Power. Source. Aedrya. It resonates.’

  “Aedrya?”

  It did not answer.

  “What do you mean, it resonates?”

  ‘Listen.’

  Confused, Raelin glared at the stone object that held a silent sentience, offering only the command to listen. Listen to… what?

  Sound.

  Flexing their hands, stretching out the ache and frustration, and then giving them a small shake, Raelin placed them back on the stone and closed their eyes. Instead of leaving them stationary, a finger began to tap lightly.

  Nothing.

  A small growl rumbled in Raelin’s throat—and there was something else. Sound. Light. Eyes still closed, Raelin pushed mentally back at the source of the voice, the known source of the sound. With a small fist from their unhurt hand, they knocked upon the stone.

  Light. A musical note, but with a chromatic dissonance—something out of place. The scale, the sound. There was a reason the golem could not wake, and either something had been taken, added, or shifted, preventing it from being restored. Raelin could not begin to guess how the mechanics worked, but it was made of earth. How could the earth be broken?

  Or missing something?

  Another knock upon the stone—this time, Raelin knocked harder. Not like a punch, but like a solid hit upon a door when trying to get the attention of someone too loud on the other side.

  Again, the resonance broke at the tone of the sound, and how it was off was suddenly so obvious to them.

  “Why are you broken?”

  ‘I am of the earth.’

  “Why can you not walk?”

  ‘The Core is asleep.’

  “What does the Core need?”

  ‘Harmony.’

  “Harmony… like a sound? A bar of notes? No.” Raelin growled again, low and intentional. Frustrated, even the sound now resonated—fragmented, like looking through a prism or a broken mirror. The light of the sound felt pure, white.

  “Gold. Are you missing gold?” They spoke the words, considering what they had observed about this place—the golden and silver halos of moonlight in the gardens, the metallic castings in the rooms, the runes along the Lady’s skin reflecting the sun and moon.

  Whether there was a response or not no longer mattered. Raelin was already digging into the loose slits in their trousers, searching for a small pouch where they kept useful components and treasured items. Lint, herbs, a broken ivory pipe—useless. It took only moments to locate the simplest of tools for a musician, and with a small cry of victory, they pulled out a tuning fork.

  The most basic of devices, but when music was the source of one’s power, finding the right notes was crucial. A tuning fork could find a note in anything solid—reveal weaknesses, fill a room with sound when there was no light.

  A glance at the globes of light, and Raelin mentally released them from their hold. The room plunged into darkness. If light existed, Raelin needed to see it—not just hear it.

  A tap of the fork on the sleeping stone form, and as expected, a glow of white light glittered beneath the surface where runes had once been. Formed, untouched by time. Had the stone been carved before or after the magic? It seemed the runes had been placed after the stone revealed its nature. The stone could wear away, but the magic—the nature of the golem—came from within.

  Again, light glittered over the golem. Hand upon the stone, Raelin followed the light with sound.

  It ended at the center, like a rock at the bottom of a bowl of sand. It moved away to allow Raelin through, but instead of reflecting, the echo felt dull. Mute.

  “Is this the Core?”

  ‘Yes.’

  “Is it causing the dissonance?” Thinking the stone sensation in the center as the inert piece within. The part that was asleep.

  No answer. But Raelin was certain.

  Gold. The Core was asleep and it did not hold sound. But it was there, along with light that held some remanence of surface thoughts of the Golem. Searching their body and the little pouch of items, the only thing that came up was a simple gold ring hanging on a chain beneath their elaborate event attire.. There was no coin as it had all been spent on the outfit for the event.

  Byne.

  Raelin hesitated, pain tightening their throat.

  “What happens… if I wake you?”

  ‘The Core will no longer be asleep.’

  “And me?” A whisper.

  ‘I will be bound to you.’

  Not the answer Raelin expected.

  "Byne."

  ‘I cannot help the dead.’

  Raelin hadn’t realized they spoke the name aloud.

  Swallowing hard, they clutched the ring to their chest.

  Alone.

  How long had it really been since they saw Byne? There was no grave, there had been so little left. But what was still there was held within the ring that had been so special to her.

  “I.. I can’t accept it.” The words hoarse as if Raelin had been crying for hours, though time no longer held the same purpose of passing or urgency of need. “She was all I had left. She was life itself. How can I not have her with me? She was… IS my sister!”

  The ring bit into their hand, and it hurt. Like the punch upon the stone hurt. Like the promise after promise that Raelin never kept, only to find that had they kept one, the pain would never have been there. One last adventure, to find an answer.

  Raelin found it.

  Pursing their lips, there was one promise that Raelin could still keep, whether Byne knew it or not. No. Byne knew, she had to.

  With a soft, hesitant breath, the running fork tapped on the gold ring and a sound rich and high, but with a density of the precious metal that it was made of.

  Spark of gold, but it was too soft for Raelin to see with their eyes. Ting. Again, the light was too subtle and weak.

  Closing their eyes, Raelin thought of Byne, and with a final hit upon the ring, Raelin mimicked the note of the ring, rising in their octave scale until a single note echoed impossibly through the room. Golden light fragmented over the body of the golem, and through the touch of their hand upon the stone and the already established connect, starlight emerged.

  The stone moved, and the song echoed through the ruined and burst through the interiors of the room until every crack of stone was filled with silver and golden light.