As autumn painted the Valley in a kaleidoscope of reds, oranges, and golds, Ketcha's recovery made steady strides. To support her healing, Asbel meticulously cleared all stones from around the cabin, fostering a tranquil atmosphere. This removal lessened the intensity of the voices Ketcha heard, granting her periods of tranquility.

With her strength returning, Ketcha ventured outdoors, reveling in nature's simple pleasures. She and Asbel gathered mushrooms and berries, their hands occasionally brushing amid the vibrant autumn foliage. The once oppressive voices now receded to a distant murmur, less intrusive and overwhelming.

Although the voices persisted, they became more like remote echoes. Asbel, keen to aid Ketcha further, crafted a microscope, a relic reminiscent of pre-Seven Days of Fire technology. Together, they split open rocks, uncovering hidden microcosms. Initially, Asbel's intention was to reassure Ketcha of the rocks' harmlessness. However, beneath the microscope, even the plainest stones unveiled vibrant mineral landscapes, radiant under a transverse light lamp. Pinks, violets, and yellows came alive, revealing an unexpected beauty. Both were awestruck, feeling like pioneers rediscovering ancient wonders.

Ketcha dedicated herself to preparing thin rock sections, each slice unveiling intricate patterns and vivid colors, a testament to nature's hidden artistry. Asbel watched her careful work, his respect for her focus and finesse deepening.

One day, Asbel presented her with a handmade overall crafted from the softest yakkul wool. Its rich, earthy tones and intricate designs echoed the autumnal forest, offering comfort and warmth. Ketcha's eyes sparkled with gratitude as she slipped into the cozy garment.

One such evening, Ketcha revealed another facet of her talents. She brought out a six-stringed bombardon, an instrument that had been with her since her days in the Mani tribe. Strumming its strings, she played "N.I.B.," an ancient song in a language long extinct, yet still cherished as a popular Dorok folk tune. The melody was haunting and beautiful, filled with longing and a touch of melancholy. Asbel listened, captivated by the music and the woman who played it, feeling a connection that transcended words.

The music filled the cabin, weaving a spell of intimacy and warmth. In that moment, as Ketcha's fingers danced over the bombardon's strings, something unspoken yet profound passed between them – a recognition of shared suffering, resilience, and a budding affection that promised to grow with each passing day.

Unbeknownst to them, they were not the only ones present in that moment.