Tales from a Listening Land Sory 3

Story 3: The Child Who Belonged to Two Worlds

Long before the forest guided lost footsteps and before the mountain learned to rest, the wild had already made a quiet promise.

To protect what listened.

Deep within the open lands where grass met shadow and rivers curved without names, a child grew among living footsteps instead of walls. His days were measured by sunrise and scent, by warning calls and gentle nudges.

He learned when to be still.
When to move.
When to listen.

The wild did not teach with words.
It taught with rhythm.

The child understood the rules of this place because they were fair.

Take only what you need.
Warn before you fight.
Never forget who walks beside you.

Older creatures watched over him. Strong ones guarded him. Quiet ones taught him patience. When danger crept near, the wild closed in around him like a single breathing body.

But beyond the tall grass and shifting trees, another world waited.

One made of fire circles, voices, and stories told indoors.

One day, the wind carried a new sound.

Not threat.
Not fear.

Recognition.

At the edge of the wild, the child saw people who moved like memory. Their eyes widened, not with danger—but with knowing.

Something inside him stirred.

The wild did not pull him back.
It waited.

That night, he sat beneath the open sky, listening to two heartbeats inside himself. One belonged to the land that raised him. The other to the place he came from.

At dawn, he stood.

Those who had guarded him gathered close. There were no commands. No chains.

Only understanding.

“You carry both,” the wild seemed to say.
“And you always will.”

He walked forward.

Not away—but onward.

From that day, he lived between worlds, remembering the language of the wind, the patience of roots, and the strength of standing still when needed.

And whenever the land faced imbalance—heat that would not leave, forests that needed voices, or people who forgot how to listen—the world leaned gently toward those who remembered.

Because the land was never silent.

It was always listening.

End of the series
Tales from a Listening Land