The Sundered Sky
THE REBUILDING
The rebuilding took months.
The survivors worked together, Choristers and refugees, soldiers and farmers, old and young. They cleared the rubble from the streets. They repaired the walls of the Spire. They planted crops in the fields that had been poisoned by shadow-stain, using the Songs of Healing to restore the soil.
Lyra worked alongside them.
Her voice was slowly returning. She could speak in short sentences now, though her throat ached if she talked too long. She could not sing. Not yet. But she could hum. And her humming was enough to help the seeds grow.
Morwen led the council of Choristers.
They met every morning in the Spire’s great hall, arguing about resources and priorities and the future. Some wanted to focus on rebuilding the cities. Some wanted to hunt down the remaining shadows. Some wanted to prepare for the next god, the one who would surely wake when the Sundered King’s death was felt throughout the void.
Lyra attended the meetings but did not speak.
She was learning to listen.
On the first day of spring, Wren came to her.
The young woman had changed. The softness was gone from her face, replaced by hard lines and sharper angles. She had lost people in the Sundering. Friends. Family. A lover. She did not talk about them, but Lyra could see the grief in her eyes.
“We’re leaving,” Wren said.
“Leaving? Where?”
“North. There are villages up there that have been cut off since the Sundering. They need help. Food. Medicine. Protection.”
“The Choristers can send supplies.”
“Supplies aren’t enough. They need people. People who can fight. People who can sing.”
Lyra looked at Davin.
He nodded.
“I’ll go,” Lyra said.
Wren’s eyes widened. “You? You can barely walk across the room without getting winded.”
“I’ve been resting for months. I’m tired of resting.”
“The journey north is dangerous. The shadows may be gone, but the land is still scarred. There are bandits. Wild animals. Things that came through the crack before it closed.”
“Then I’ll bring my voice.”
“Your voice is a whisper.”
“It’s enough.”
Wren studied her for a long moment.
Then she nodded.
“Pack warm clothes. We leave at dawn.”