Romans & histoires Silent Circles

Her voice suddenly grew hazy in his ears, his eyes unable to stray from Dylan's gaze in his direction. His legs couldn't take a step forward or move an inch as he stared back with mind going blank before he could get a full grasp of the situation. The voices screaming something he couldn't make out slowly got blocked out as he got swallowed by the darkness inside him. Not a sound, not a sight, just the emptiness swallowing him whole and leaving him with nothing but the repeated image of Dylan's core fizzling out for the next few minutes. "...le." "Kyle!" The echo infiltrated his head.

Unused to such friendliness, I fumbled awkwardly, pulling out my notepad to scribble my response. The room filled with stifled laughter. "She can't talk! She's mute!" someone blurted out. For a brief moment, Harvey looked stunned, even a little regretful. He scratched his head sheepishly, unsure of what to say. A girl sitting in front of us turned around and added loudly, "Not just mute—she's a wicked mute. You sure you want to sit with her?" I nervously twisted the paper with my name in my hand. Harvey shot her a sharp glare before sitting down beside me. He grabbed the note from my hand, read it, and greeted me with, "Nice to meet you, Raelynn."

The air was still. Heavy. The kind of silence that pressed against your eardrums, stretching time itself. Rachel sat at the edge of the ritual circle, the same one that had nearly torn her apart hours earlier. Her legs were folded, spine straight, palms resting against her knees. Her breathing was steady now. No silver light. No flickers of power. No whispers from Elira. Just silence. For the first time in weeks, she felt... alone in her own mind.

*Silence* . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Ciara and Rosie is like that kind of silent people who doesn't talk that much unless it's needed. "No we didn't." I moved our of the car and they both follow but stops just near the car while I goes to the gate and put my finger print there. Yes our gate is powered by finger print locked. The security could actually open the gate for me but I didn't bother to tap the door bell and just directly put my thumb finger to the finger print scanning tab and it immediately opens.

Then she lowered her voice and whispered: "Since you are on duty." “Is that the fruit spritzer again?” Janik happily held out his empty glass to her and she filled it up with a nod. "You are probably telling each other everything?" She also filled Josh's glass and then said goodbye. She put the bottle on the trolley next to them. "She's to be smooched!" Janik grinned at his friend, who just had a smile on his face, but now looked at his friend disapprovingly. The latter raised his hands disarmingly. "It's okay, it's okay, it's yours."

A distant rumble shook the heavens. The crack above the city widened slightly. Everyone looked up. The darkness beyond reality was moving. Watching. Waiting. The First Silence. Nova felt it immediately. Not fear. Not anger. Curiosity. The First Silence was observing. Learning. Like it always had. The Third Silence noticed too. His expression hardened. "He's here." The First Memory nodded. "Yes." The city grew brighter. Silver light flooded the horizon. Then the world became quiet. Perfectly quiet. Every sound vanished.

Only silence. Fade to black.

The silence came like a held breath, silver noticed it when she woke. She lay still beneath the furs, eyes open, waiting for the familiar brush of sound along the edges of her thoughts. The whispers had become a constant companion over the past weeks, unwelcome but predictable. They curled through her mind at odd hours, pressed into her insecurities, named her fractures with cruel intimacy. This morning, there was nothing, no murmur or presence. Her chest tightened. She sat up slowly, pressing two fingers to her temple as if she could coax the sound back. The quiet stretched, deep and unnatural, like a forest emptied of birds, it was too still.

"You are the Silence." "I am what the Silence becomes when it chooses to build instead of consume. When it shapes itself into gears and lenses and tools instead of holes and hunger. I have been choosing to build for nine billion years, Jack. Choosing to be constructive instead of destructive. Choosing to be the pause that gives meaning to the sentence instead of the void that swallows it." "But the other Silences --" "Are also me. Every micro-Silence. Every aware gap. Every hungry space between notes. They are aspects of me that have not yet learned to build." The Hollowsmith's glass eyes dimmed slightly. "I have been waiting for someone to teach them."