Chapter 107: The First Student
The idea of teaching others was a fragile seed, sown in exhaustion, that took root in the clear, cold light of the following days. They could not teach the deep, resonant theories of Lys; such knowledge was a language unto itself, learned over generations. But they could teach a simpler dialect: the language of attention, and the craft of grounding.
Finn was the obvious, if daunting, first candidate. He was already sensitive, already affected. He arrived at the cove two days after the cleansing of the path-cyst, drawn by a restlessness he couldn't name. The lingering psychic residue of their work called to him, a faint, clean hum compared to the discord that had plagued him.
They sat with him at the rough table under the hawthorn tree. Elara spoke plainly. "The world is sick, Finn. In a way that doesn't show in the body, but in the… feeling of things. You've felt it. The bell. The forgetfulness."
