The Bell Tower didn't loom.
It stood—graceful, ancient, silent in a way that demanded reverence. Its wooden beams curved upward like they remembered the skies, its steps carved with glyphs worn smooth by time and prayer. Pilgrims came here to listen. Monks came here to guard what was heard.
Kael walked slowly through the entrance, his boots whispering against the polished floor. He felt the stillness immediately—not emptiness, but attention. As though something had paused to hear him arrive.
Echo stayed close. Her ears flicked as she stepped lightly over the threshold.
The incense here was different than in Sprout Tower. Less floral. More grounded. Like burnt cedar and rain.
Three monks waited for him at the base of the central staircase. They wore no symbols, no color, only simple grey robes tied with white cords.
The one in the center—taller than the others, eyes clear and sharp—stepped forward and bowed slightly.
"Kael, son of Galen."
He blinked. "You… know me?"
"We've heard your steps for some time."
They led him up the tower without speaking further.
The stairs spiraled upward through floors lined with faded prayer scrolls and hollow wind chimes. None of the chimes rang as they passed.
Not until they reached the seventh floor.
Here, the space opened into a chamber with a circular stone table and skylight above. Sunlight filtered through, catching dust like golden threads. At the center of the table, an old scroll lay unrolled and untouched.
"This is where truths are spoken," said the lead monk.
"And remembered," added the second.
"Even when they shouldn't be," finished the third.
Kael sat.
Echo didn't.
The lead monk placed one hand on the scroll. "What you encountered on Mt. Silver… it was not your first step."
"No," Kael said. "But it felt like the deepest."
The monk nodded. "You are not the first to open the Threshold. Only the first in many years to survive it."
He leaned closer.
"And the first to walk it with her."
Echo met his gaze without blinking.
Kael frowned. "There were others?"
The second monk stepped forward, placing a small item on the table—a metal pendant, shaped like a stylized flame with a spiral through the center.
A symbol he didn't recognize.
"Who wore that?" he asked.
"They called themselves the Resonant Circle," the second monk said. "Decades ago, they were scholars, sensitives, and seers. They sought Amaranth."
Kael stiffened. "On purpose?"
"They thought it was a doorway," said the third monk. "A gateway to higher understanding. To eternal memory."
"It was a door," Kael said. "But not to where they hoped."
The first monk tapped the scroll.
"They listened too long. They let it inside. And when they tried to leave, they didn't."
Kael leaned forward, eyes narrowed. "What happened to them?"
"Some vanished. Some faded. But two… survived. And we believe one of them is speaking again."
Echo's ears flicked. "Where?"
The lead monk met her gaze.
"Cerulean."
Kael felt the breath leave his lungs.
"The map," he said. "The glyph I found in the ruins. The red mark near Cerulean Cave."
Echo stepped closer to the table. "If a survivor is there, they're not human anymore."
"Nor are they gone," said the second monk. "Memory keeps what it finds useful."
The third monk added, "We do not send you there as a hero. Or a weapon. Only as a witness."
Kael stared at the flame pendant.
"Do you think they want to be found?"
"No," said the lead monk. "But they want you to find them."
He left the tower with the pendant in his pocket and a storm behind his eyes.
The sky outside had darkened with the afternoon, clouds rolling in over the rooftops of Ecruteak. Bells chimed as wind stirred at last.
Echo walked beside him quietly.
"They knew," he said. "They knew about the Circle. About survivors. About how deep this goes."
"They didn't lie," Echo replied. "They just let forgetting do the work."
He exhaled slowly. "Then I won't forget. Not any of it."
"You'll need to remember carefully," Echo said. "Because we're not just walking forward anymore."
Kael glanced down at her. "What do you mean?"
She looked up at him, her voice softer.
"Now we're walking back toward something."
That night, he opened Galen's journal again.
He flipped to the back.
And wrote a name at the top of a blank page:
The Resonant Circle
Below it, he wrote two bullet points.
"Attempted communication with Amaranth — spiritual access through glyph resonance."
"Two survivors. One potentially in Cerulean."
He tapped the pen twice.
Then added a third note.
"Not all who listen are lost. But some never stop listening."