The silence that fell between Lyra and Elara was not an absence, but a presence.
It was a living thing, a weight of unspoken histories and clashing futures.
Lyra, her voice a fragile thread against the immense quiet, spoke first.
“You would undo us with your silent stones,” she whispered, her words not an accusation, but a lament.
“No,” Elara replied, her voice steady, clear, a counterpoint to Lyra’s sorrow. “We seek not to undo, but to understand.”