[c=#2dba69]The Coral Chant - Part 2
The Watcher of the Dunes[/c]

[c=#e3aaeb][i]No light. No bright sound.
Only a silence a little less heavy, and this second notebook, which seemed to be waiting for you right there.[/i][/c]

The first breath worked. It wasn't a miracle, just a sign: something, underwater, answered.

I finally came to understand what the Watcher said, in the fragments of his account passed down to me: the flute is not an instrument, it's a shaped memory. It creates nothing. It releases what was already there, buried in the coral, waiting.

But waking a fragment isn't enough. The Watcher repeated it to anyone who would listen:
"A coral left alone dies faster than the dead."
"Nothing grows back on dry stone."

A healed coral abandoned on the sand falls back into silence within days. It needs a place to hold on: near other corals, in water that still carries it a little.

That's what I did. I took the coral I had awakened, and replanted it against a still-living formation - even a sickly one, even one almost extinguished.
Not to see it recover right away. To see whether, this time, the song would carry on instead of dying out alone.

You made a first note tremble. If you want it to last: find a dead coral, wake it with the breath, then replant it near an existing coral.
The Breath hasn't fully returned yet. But it's starting to remember you.
