Whether We Build It

The second stone settled with a soft thud, a note of finality in the quiet air. Two stones, side-by-side, the beginnings of a wall, a foundation, a hall. For a long moment, the three of them—Soren, Finn, and Bria—simply stood, their hands still tingling with the memory of the stone’s clean weight.

It was Bria who broke the silence. Her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, but it carried in the still air. “It’s so quiet here.” She looked from the stones to the two men, a flicker of doubt in her eyes. “But the city… it isn’t. Will they even hear it? Will they even know what this is?”

Soren didn’t answer immediately. He ran a hand over the cool, rough surface of the newly set stone. When he finally spoke, his voice was as steady and patient as the stone itself. “One stone at a time, Bria. That is all we can do. The wood will come when it is time for the wood to come.”

Finn, who had been quietly inspecting their work, nodded in agreement. He looked at Bria, his gaze direct and kind. “The question is not whether they will hear it,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “The question is whether we will build it.”