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Eighty Five

Cassie's POV

The travel through the Precious stone Isles had driven us to a domain not at all like any we had experienced some time recently. The domain was called the Consonant Caverns, a place where the exceptional pitch of sound and vibration molded the scene. The occupants of this domain, known as the Consonant Artisans, were aces of controlling sound to make unimaginable works of craftsmanship.

"These caverns are our canvases," one of the Consonant Artisans clarified, their voice an orchestra of tones. "We accept that by harnessing the power of sound, we are able to bring concordance to our world."

I observed as they moved through the caverns, their developments choreographed to form complex designs of reverberating vitality. "Your association with the craftsmanship of sound is genuinely mesmerizing."

Alder's voice held deference. "The Consonant Artisans' commitment to making agreement includes a layer of profundity to the adjustment of this put."

Birch's eyes were taken after a
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