Kael stood at the edge of the ridge as dawn broke.
The stone with the three overlapping circles lay before him, still and silent, yet it tugged at him—as if waiting for something more.
Behind him, the village stirred. He could hear the faint clatter of morning activity, the murmur of voices. The new ones had begun building shelters not from instruction, but from watching each other. They learned quickly. Laughed easily.
Kael didn't move. His hand rested on the carved stone Oran had placed the day before. The open spiral. Passage.
He felt it, too.
They were no longer settlers.
They were becoming something else.
Footsteps approached. Light. Familiar.
Aila.
She stopped beside him, brushing hair from her face. "You've been out here since dark."
Kael nodded. "I couldn't sleep."
She looked at the symbol, the way the morning light traced the edges of the circles.
"You think someone's still watching?" she asked.
Kael didn't answer at first. He knelt and touched the stone again.
