After leaving Solarein, they walked for days beneath skies that shifted from bright gold to pale gray.The world seemed tired, as if the light and dark were learning again how to share.
One morning, they reached the edge of a valley where clouds hung low like sleeping beasts. The air smelled of rain, old wood, and memory.
Lira lifted her face. "It's raining."
Seren frowned. "No — it's singing."
Kael tilted his head. The rain wasn't just falling — it whispered.Each drop carried a faint voice, murmuring fragments of laughter, sighs, and unspoken words.
The valley below shimmered with silver rooftops and narrow rivers — a small town half-hidden by mist.
A worn wooden sign read:"Welcome to Lyrane — Where the Rain Remembers."
As they entered, the rain thickened, falling in slow, soft sheets.People moved quietly through the streets, carrying umbrellas made of thin glass. The raindrops bounced off them with tiny musical notes.
Lira caught a droplet on her hand and froze.Her eyes widened. "Kael… I heard something."
"What did it say?"
She hesitated. "My name. My mother's voice."
Kael looked around. Every puddle shimmered like a mirror, showing flashes of the past — a smile here, a tear there, a half-forgotten face.
A young woman nearby spoke softly to herself, standing in the rain. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I should have said goodbye."
The rain answered her, repeating her words like a lullaby.
Seren's eyes softened. "This place… it's full of people talking to ghosts."
Kael nodded slowly. "Or maybe… ghosts talking to people."
They found shelter under an old bridge where the sound of dripping water echoed like a heartbeat.Lira shivered. "It's beautiful but sad. Every drop carries something someone once felt."
Kael touched a puddle. The reflection rippled — and suddenly he heard it: a soft, familiar voice.His own.
"Don't leave her behind."
He gasped, pulling back. His chest tightened. That was something he had whispered long ago — to himself, maybe to someone else.
Seren noticed. "You heard it too, didn't you?"
Kael nodded silently.
The rain grew heavier. It poured not like water but like memory, endless and gentle.The streets shimmered with the faces of people they had lost — mothers, friends, lovers, children.
A child ran through the puddles, laughing — but every splash carried a different emotion: joy, sorrow, forgiveness, regret.
Lira murmured, "It's like the whole city is crying for everyone at once."
They followed the sound of distant bells to the heart of Lyrane — a tall tower wrapped in ivy, where a woman stood alone in the rain.She wore a cloak of blue feathers, and her hair flowed like silver water.
When she spoke, her voice blended with the rainfall. "You've come far, travelers."
Kael bowed slightly. "Are you the one who keeps the rain singing?"
She smiled faintly. "No one keeps it. The rain sings for itself. But I am its listener — the Warden of Tears."
Lira stepped closer. "Why does the rain remember?"
The Warden looked up at the sky. "Long ago, when the gods left this land, they took the stars and the sun but left behind our emotions. The sky began to cry for us — and never stopped."
Seren frowned. "So every drop is a memory?"
"Yes," she said softly. "A feeling that someone was too afraid to speak. Here, the sky speaks what hearts cannot."
Kael looked at her thoughtfully. "Then what happens to those who listen too long?"
The Warden smiled sadly. "They begin to forget which feelings were theirs."
As the rain fell around them, Kael's eyes grew distant.He thought of everything he'd lost — his voice, his old world, the warmth of belonging.And then he thought of what he'd gained — new friends, new truths, and a peace that still frightened him.
The rain whispered to him again:
"You were never meant to be alone."
Kael closed his eyes. He let the words sink into him like sunlight through water.
He turned to Lira and Seren. "We should rest here tonight."
They found a small inn, its walls humming softly with raindrop melodies.Lira sat by the window, tracing her finger through the fogged glass. "You know," she said softly, "maybe this rain isn't sadness. Maybe it's the sky's way of healing — crying until it feels light again."
Kael smiled. "Then maybe we all need to rain sometimes."
Seren chuckled. "You're starting to sound like a poet."
Kael looked out at the endless downpour. "Maybe poets are just people who remember how to listen."
That night, he couldn't sleep.He stepped outside and stood beneath the rain.Every drop that touched him whispered a word — forgive, wait, breathe, love.
He whispered back, "I'm listening."
The rain softened, almost shy. Then, just above him, the clouds parted for a moment — revealing a small patch of night sky.
Through it, a single star shone.
Kael smiled faintly. "Even the rain remembers the light."
When dawn came, the storm eased.The Warden met them at the gate as they prepared to leave.
"Thank you," she said. "Your presence calmed the storm's heart."
Kael tilted his head. "I did nothing."
The Warden's eyes sparkled. "You listened. That is more than most ever do."
She reached out and placed a raindrop crystal in his hand. Inside it, tiny lights flickered like trapped stars.
"Take this," she said. "When you forget what you feel, listen to it. It remembers."
Kael nodded, tucking the crystal into his cloak.
As they walked away, the rain began again — softer this time, like a song finally ending.
Lira looked back once more. "It's strange. Even though it rained all night, I feel lighter."
Kael smiled gently. "Because sometimes, when the sky cries, it washes everyone clean."
He wrote one quiet thought in his journal that morning:
"Tears are not weakness. They are the rain's way of teaching hearts how to breathe again."