Silent Hope -

The first note came out rough, rusty, a key turning in a lock that had seized long ago. The mud tightened. He felt it crawling up his ribs like cold fingers.

“Elena?”

Kaelen did not ask for time. Time was another thing the king had drowned. He asked only for the tune. Silent Hope

Now, at fourteen, Kaelen was the village’s Listener—the one who climbed the dead oak at dusk to hear the king’s movements. It was a job for the light-footed and the hollow-hearted. Kaelen had not laughed in six years. The first note came out rough, rusty, a

The mud hesitated.