Past the edge of town, there lay a circular pond.
It was roughly ten paces across, ringed with stones, its waters crystal clear. Though it was shallow enough to see the very bottom, the true color of the bed remained a mystery.
Ripples stirred across the surface.
There was no wind. No insects had fallen in. No one had thrown a stone. Yet, ripples spread incessantly from the pond's center. As soon as one faded, the next was born. From the same spot. In the same perfect circle.
Koyoi crouched by the water’s edge.
“...Is something falling in?”
“Nothing is falling.”
Kuon turned his artificial eye toward the depths. A piercing azure light lanced through the water.
“They’re coming from below. The Names. Names traveling through the subterranean paths are striking the surface here.”
The ripples were the scars left by Names striking the water's surface. But the Names could not break through; they could not reach the world above. The film of the water pushed them back.
Asahi dipped a finger into the pond. It was cold. The ripples spread outward, as if intentionally avoiding his touch.
“It’s hard. It looks like water, but there’s a membrane here.”
“The Observer’s seal,” Kuon said. “A lid masquerading as water. The Names strike from below again and again, but they cannot pierce this film.”
Kuon opened the Catalog. Lines resembling a cross-section of the pond shimmered upon the page. Narrow paths stretched out from the pond's bottom—underground tunnels. The roads through which Names traveled converged directly beneath this spot.
“A junction. Multiple subterranean paths meet here. The Names gather because they believe this is the exit.”
“Even though it isn’t?”
“It was an exit. Once. This pond was originally a well for Names to emerge onto the surface. The Observer filled it with water and sealed it.”
Koyoi stared at the surface. The ripples would not stop. One, two, three. As he counted, the intervals between them shifted slightly. They were quickening.
“...They’re increasing.”
“Because we are here,” Kuon said. “Names react to those who possess Names. They’ve sensed the Droplet in your pouch and gathered, thinking an exit has appeared.”
Koyoi clutched his drawstring pouch. The Droplet was hot, its pulse faster than usual. The Names beneath the pond and the gods within the pouch were calling out to one another.
The ripples grew even more dense. The surface began to churn. The stones lining the pond’s edge started to rattle and clatter.
“...Koyoi. Move the pouch away from the pond.”
Kuon’s voice was sharp.
“If you bring it too close, they’ll surge up from below all at once. If this membrane bursts, the Observer will find our position.”
Koyoi stood and retreated three steps. The ripples calmed, if only a little. But they did not stop completely. The Names had already realized. They knew their kin were above.
Asahi walked along the rim and lifted one of the stones. On its underside, characters were engraved.
“...Numbers. Someone was counting how many Names came here.”
“The First God.”
Kuon read the script on the stone.
“Before this pond was sealed, they recorded the number of Names that passed through. Two hundred and thirty-seven. Two hundred and thirty-seven pillars emerged onto the surface from this very pond.”
Now, that path was blocked. The Names that should have followed those two hundred and thirty-seven were still waiting beneath the surface.
Koyoi looked back at the pond. The ripples continued—rhythmic and quiet. They weren't screaming; they were tapping. Tapping to let the world know they were there.
Asahi set the stone back in its place.
“I’ll remember this. The place, and the count. The next time we come, we’re coming to open it.”
Kuon inked the pond’s location into the Catalog. The lines on the page overlapped with the paths on his nautical chart.
The three of them left the pond behind. Behind them, a single, large ripple spread across the water, as if seeing them off—or perhaps, as if a promise had been received.
Only the stone rim gave a faint clack, and then, all was silent.