I. The silenced villages
Far from the cities that now echoed in the aerial network, there were corners of the forgotten world, villages so isolated that neither judgment nor original flourishing had touched their land. Not because of resistance. Because of historical invisibility .
One of those villages was Niroth , nestled between dry cliffs and paths of barren dust. It wasn't listed on maps, nor mentioned by chroniclers. Its inhabitants didn't know of the Tree, or of Judgment, or of the roots.
But they knew of silence.
In Niroth, no one spoke above a whisper. Houses were built downward, not upward. Each family wrote their history on stones, which they then buried deep within their yards.
They had no word for soul.
They had one for shadow: "Veyan."
And that day, the shadows began to tremble.
II. The air network touches Niroth
A little girl named Enya , barely ten years old, was the first to notice. While collecting water from a dry well, she looked up and saw the sky pulsing. Not with light. With subtle form.
A transparent line floated over the village, not touching the ground, but projecting heat without origin .
Enya reached out her hand. And for the first time in generations, the air whispered back :
"You can flourish here too."
She didn't know what that meant.
But her shadow, projected on the rock, changed shape.
III. The first loud voice in centuries
The elders gathered in the underground hall. The walls trembled. The stones where the stories lay began to crack. Some texts emerged from the earth, as if they wanted to be read at last.
In the middle of the council, Enya walked in. She broke the rules. She spoke out loud :
—"I don't want my story to be underground. I want to write it above the sky."
The eldest man, Ther Vuan , wept silently. Not out of disobedience. Out of recognition :
—"That was my wish… before we buried everything."
And one by one, they began to read their stones.
Each word released caused the aerial net to descend a little further.
IV. Roots without soil
The next morning, something unprecedented happened:
Little flowers began to sprout… in the air.
They hung over homes, suspended by invisible threads of resonance. They had no stem. No visible root. But they remained alive. They vibrated to the rhythm of newborn speech.
Every time someone told something unsaid, a flower would open.
A blue flower when naming an unborn child. A white-gray flower for confessing fear of oblivion. And a transparent, golden flower on Enya when she asked to be heard.V. The arrival of the seed from the center
Aeri, Kazun, and Mieral, following the slightest vibration of the net, arrived at Niroth. They didn't land. They floated, guided by the aerial net.
There was no ceremony. Just presence.
Aeri descended beside Enya, and offered her a seed of the unbuilt city .
—"This flower is not for you. It's for those who come after you. "
The girl replied:
—"Then I will keep it in my voice."
VI. The song that opened the sky
That night, Enya climbed the hill.
She sang.
He didn't know music.
He didn't use words.
He just let the air net filter through his breath.
And then the sky split into shapes: circles, symbols, inverted constellations.
And in every city, someone dreamed of a girl who sang without fear.
In Velyra: a new root blossomed. In Halveth: the incomplete flowers were united. In Varosk: an old man woke up and said:
"Now… we can start again."VII. The new language
The sages who were still recording events were unable to translate what happened on Niroth.
Words weren't enough.
Symbols were collapsing.
Only Aeri wrote:
"The network has stopped connecting through memories.
Now it connects through the unspoken. "
"And those who never spoke… are now the founders of the next. "
VIII. The invisible map expands
The once-floating aerial network now adapted to places with no recognized history.
It didn't seek cities. Or power. It sought hidden heartbeats .
And every time a new voice blossomed, a suspended flower marked it .
A song.
A forbidden word. An emotion never expressed.
That was enough to connect.
And the world, for the first time, became truly whole.
Not because everyone flourished equally.
But because even those who had never had a voice… were now roots.