The Bridge Between
The third thing pulsed differently now. Not like a question seeking. Not like an answer waiting. Like a bridge extending. It had chosen its purpose. Between question and answer, it would not simply exist. It would connect. Lyra felt the shift as she walked through the sanctuary garden. The air no longer pressed. It flowed. The nameless color in the sky had settled into something softer. Gray, but not gloomy. Silver, but not bright. The color of maybe. Solace found her by the apple tree. "It's changing." "It decided something." "How do you know?" "The pressure is gone. The uncertainty. It knows what it wants to be." --- Curio pulsed from its chamber. Third thing. You are different. I am becoming. Becoming what? A bridge. Between you and the answer. Between all questions and all
- Writer
