The chord that answered Lyra’s silent question was not a harmony, but a dissonance.
Kael, the hammer, was a sharp, percussive strike, a note of pure, unadulterated will.
Anya, the seed, was a soft, green, rising tone, a promise of life unfolding.
Silus, the bridge, was a long, sustained note, a connection between the other sounds.
And Echo, the loom, was not a sound at all, but the silence that held them all, the space between the notes where meaning was born.