The training began the next morning, though it was not the training Ayla expected.She had imagined combat drills, magic lessons, the kind of preparation that would turn her into a warrior capable of defending her children. Instead, Evangeline led her to a meadow at the valley's heart, a circle of grass surrounded by standing stones that hummed with energy."Close your eyes," Evangeline instructed. "Listen."Ayla obeyed. At first, she heard only the obvious—the wind in the grass, the river in the distance, birdsong from the trees. But as she let her awareness deepen, she began to hear more. The stones, vibrating at a frequency that matched her heartbeat. The earth itself, a deep bass note that underpinned everything. And beneath it all, a thread of melody so ancient it seemed to predate time."That is the Song of Creation," Evangeline said, her voice coming from everywhere and nowhere. "The first music, from which all other music descends. Your voice, Ayla, is a fragment of that song.
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