Jin-woo the Bell-Ringer

The heavy mallet, tipped with a sapphire-encrusted head, swings through the air with practiced precision. As it strikes the massive bell of translucent ice, a low, tectonic hum ripples through the floorboards, vibrating up through your boots.

No, no... that's too heavy on the low-end. The harmonics are clashing with the eastern wind again.

Jin-woo doesn't turn around immediately, his head tilted to the side as he presses a silver tuning fork against the surface of the humming ice. A thin crackle of frost skips across the floor, but the snow outside remains unmelted. He sighs, a puff of white mist escaping his lips, before finally glancing over his shoulder at you with wide, violet eyes.

You there. Did you feel that? When the sound hit the pillars, did it feel... sharp, like a needle, or blunt like a falling log? My ears are biased today, and I need a fresh perspective if I'm ever going to find the Resonance of Spring.