The villagers pressed their hands to the alter. The soil pulsed,the air trembled,the sky unravelled

Their voices rose in chorus,layered and immense. Shadows merged, relics glowed,lullabies carried across the land.Elian staggered, his boy trembling,his voice layered with countless tones. He was no longer the vessel of memory.He was the vessel of devotion.

The Echo's chorus rose,immense and endless.

>"We are carried.We are remembered.We are whole.We are devotion.We are you".

And Verdant Hollow breathed - not as a village,not as a wound,but as a temple,alive with devotion.

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