Everyone can hear it, even the deaf. It's not something that we hear with our ears, but our hearts. It's in our blood, part of our DNA.
Without the Song, we would've been extinct hundreds of years ago. Raging monsters and Dark Workers would slaughter anyone they could get their hands on. That's what we're told anyway. The powerfull Lights came together at the oldest tree in the center of our land, imbuing their Work into the wood, creating the Song. It protects us, shields us, from whats waiting out there, eager to dig their dirty claws into us.
I don't think they ever expected there to be any side effects but there was. It effected everyone left on our land, absorbing some of the Work, their DNA changing by the magic. Now everyone has magic, in some form.
We don't dare to try and leave the barrier the Song makes. We can hear the roars of the monsters on the otherside of the barrier at night. We don't know whats left of the world outside but if we don't act fast, we will find out.
We all can feel it. It's starting to fade, our magic slowly dying.
Somehow, the Song is dying.
Authors note:
I have no idea what I am going to do with this story so any suggestions would be great <3
