The sun hung low over the Crumbling Spires, its amber light slicing through gaps in the city's jagged skyline. Kaelith Veyn wove through the market's chaos, her worn boots scuffing against cracked cobblestones. Stalls lined the narrow streets, their awnings flapping like tattered sails, vendors hawking everything from rusted gears to dubious potions. The air buzzed with shouts, the clink of coins, and the sour tang of sweat and smoked fish. Kaelith's fingers twitched, her sharp eyes scanning for an easy mark. A scavenger didn't survive in Avarenth's underbelly by being careless.
She adjusted the scarf around her neck, hiding the faint scar that always itched when trouble was near. Today, it burned. "Bad day to be out," she muttered, sidestepping a cart piled with scrap metal. Her pack, slung low, clinked with odds and ends she'd scavenged from the city's edges—bits of tech from forgotten eras, shards of crystal that hummed faintly. The trick was knowing what sold and to whom. Old man Torv at the east end paid well for anything "odd," and Kaelith had a knack for finding it.
A ripple passed through the crowd, subtle but wrong. The air grew heavy, like a storm about to break. Kaelith froze, her hand on the dagger at her hip. The scar on her neck pulsed. Around her, the market's din faltered—vendors' shouts slowed, stretched into low, distorted groans. A woman haggling over cloth froze mid-gesture, her hand suspended like a statue's. Then the world shifted.
The cobblestones vanished, replaced by slick, fern-choked earth. Towering trees erupted from nowhere, their gnarled branches blotting out the sun. A guttural roar split the air, and a beast—scaled, with claws like scythes—lumbered into view where a fruit stall had been moments ago. Screams erupted as the market dissolved into chaos. People ran, tripped, vanished into sudden mists. Kaelith's heart slammed against her ribs. An Echo. She'd heard whispers of them—pockets of time where the past or future bled into now—but never seen one herself.
"Move, Kaelith!" she hissed to herself, sprinting toward an alley. The beast's claws raked the ground behind her, tearing up roots and stone. She dove behind a crumbling wall, breath ragged, as the creature's shadow loomed. Her scar throbbed, and for a split second, she felt the Echo—like a thread in her mind, tugging her toward something vast and broken. Then the world snapped back.
The jungle was gone. The market reappeared, but not as it was. Stalls were overturned, goods scattered, and half the crowd had vanished. Those left stumbled, dazed, muttering about lost time. Kaelith's hands shook as she checked her pack. Still there. She wasn't sure if that was luck or a curse.
"Oi, scavenger!" a voice barked. Kaelith spun, dagger half-drawn, to face a broad-shouldered man leaning against a cracked pillar. His leather coat was patched, his grin sharp as a blade. Ryn the Blade, a mercenary who'd crossed her path before—usually over the same loot. "Fancy meeting you in a mess like this," he said, tossing a rusted cog in the air and catching it. "Thought you'd be smarter than to stick around during an Echo."
"Thought you'd be smarter than to talk when monsters are sniffing about," Kaelith shot back, glancing at the shadows. The beast was gone, but something else moved in the haze—figures in dark cloaks, gliding too smoothly, their faces obscured. Her scar burned hotter. "You see those?"
Ryn's grin faded. "Chronovores. Nasty lot. Word is they hunt Echoes—and anyone who gets in their way." He stepped closer, voice low. "You felt it, didn't you? That tug. Don't lie, Kaelith. I saw your face."
She bristled. "Mind your own business, Ryn." But he wasn't wrong. That thread in her mind—it had been real. Before she could press him, a cloaked figure lunged from the mist, its blade gleaming with an unnatural sheen. Kaelith ducked, rolling across the cobblestones as the weapon grazed her pack. Ryn was already moving, his own blade flashing as he parried another attacker. "Run!" he shouted.
They sprinted through the market's ruins, the streets twisting under their feet. One moment, the ground was stone; the next, it was sand, then ice, then stone again. Echoes rippled around them, warping reality. A tavern became a crumbling temple, then a glowing spire from some future age. Kaelith's lungs burned, but she kept pace, dodging debris and cloaked pursuers. Ryn cursed as he fought off another, his blade clanging against theirs. "These bastards don't quit!"
They reached the market's edge, where the city dropped into a jagged ravine. The Chronovores were closing in, their movements eerily synchronized. Kaelith's scar screamed, and that thread in her mind pulled harder, sharper. She stumbled, vision blurring, and saw it—a glimpse of Avarenth's skies fracturing, cities falling, seas boiling. The end. Her knees buckled.
A hand grabbed her arm, yanking her back. Not Ryn. A cloaked figure, but different—her hood was woven with silver threads, her eyes bright as stars. "You've seen it, haven't you?" the woman whispered, voice like a bell in the chaos. "The end of Avarenth."
Kaelith pulled free, heart racing. "Who are you?"
"Taryn," the woman said, stepping back as another Echo rippled through. The ravine shimmered, replaced by a field of broken clocks, their hands spinning wildly. The Chronovores hesitated, as if wary of her. "You feel the Echoes, Kaelith Veyn. That makes you dangerous—and needed."
Ryn skidded to a stop beside them, blade bloodied. "Great, more cryptic nonsense. Can we save the prophecy talk for after we're not dead?"
Taryn's eyes never left Kaelith. "There's no time. The Veil is breaking faster now. You've seen what's coming." The sky above cracked like glass, revealing a void where stars bled into nothingness. Kaelith's breath caught as the vision from her mind played out above—a shattered world, and her at its center.
The Echo faded, the market flickering back. The Chronovores were gone, but Taryn's words hung heavy. Kaelith gripped her dagger, mind racing. "What do you want from me?"
Taryn's smile was grim. "To fix what was broken. Or watch it all burn." The sky cracked again, louder, and Kaelith knew—whatever this was, it wasn't over.