The elders taught her to watch for alignment.
That when the spheres appeared above the gate, the Way would begin.
So they watched.
But she chose to listen instead.
The glowing spheres didn’t just rise, they sang.
Soft chimes, like water catching moonlight.
The stones beneath her feet thrummed with forgotten legends.
And when she drew closer, the runes flickered;
not in warning,
but in surprise,
as if they had been waiting to be truly seen.
She didn’t know their language.
But she understood the question hidden in the silence between each note.
She did not climb the steps.
She crouched instead, ear to the snow,
listening for what her elders had already decided wasn’t there.