Hollowgate's morning air smelled like rust, incense, and fried dumplings. Rain from the night before still clung to the cobblestones, turning every step into a quiet slip hazard.
Kael pulled his coat tighter as he and Lira made their way through the lower market district. Vessa had warned them: Blend in. Keep moving. Buy nothing expensive.
Kael hated advice that made sense.
The market was a living maze...stalls stacked with relic scraps, mana-etched jewelry, and dungeon loot that probably still had blood on it. The crowd flowed fast and loud, a tide of bodies and shouted bargains.
Lira stayed close, hood up, eyes down.
Every few feet, someone shouted:
"Fresh core shards! Two for one!"
"Contract scrolls, unsealed!"
"Blessed steel! Real church mark!"
Kael wasn't watching the merchandise. He was watching the watchers. Anyone standing too still. Anyone pretending not to follow.
Too many guilds here, he thought. Too many mercs playing detective. One wrong word and we're sold.
Then he felt it.
A hum. Faint, but familiar. Mana.
Coming from Lira's direction.
He turned.
Her pendant glowed softly through her coat. She clutched it tight, eyes wide. "It's happening again," she whispered. "Something's calling to it."
Kael's eyes snapped to the crowd. A few people had noticed. Not many but one was always enough.
He grabbed her hand. "We're leaving."
But a voice cut in, casual, too casual.
"You sure you want to miss what it's pointing to?"
Kael turned.
A man sat behind a nearby stall, one eye glowing faint blue beneath a relic lens. His coat was patched, his boots worn but his calm felt deliberate. Too calm.
Lira stared at him. "Who.....?"
"Narin," the man said, standing slowly. "Relic vendor. Not cheap. Not clean. But I see things most don't."
Kael didn't like him. The lens. The tone. The timing.
"I don't care what you see," he said, pulling Lira back. "We're not buying."
"You will," Narin replied. "Not because you want to. Because that pendant of hers is a bondmark. Old soul-type. Can't be removed. Not safely."
Kael's jaw tightened.
"Say that louder. Maybe the bounty hunters in back didn't hear."
Narin grinned. "Relax. I don't sell people. I sell stories."
He reached under the stall and brought out a box-black, reinforced, gently placed on the counter.
"Your pendant's reacting because the seal's thinning. Sealed relics? They reach out when their time's near. I've seen three. Two exploded. One awakened a girl who burned down a city block."
Lira flinched. "You're not helping."
Kael stepped closer. "What's in the box?"
Narin opened it slowly.
Inside was a shard of glass—thin, smoky, pulsing with a faint inner light that didn't match this world.
"It's a memory fragment. Pulled from a dungeon core in South Arith."
Kael frowned. "Fragments don't hum."
"This one does," Narin said. "And it's been humming louder since you showed up."
He slid the box forward. "Touch it."
Kael hesitated. Trap? Definitely a trap. But the pendant was reacting. That was real.
He reached out and touched the glass.
The world blinked.
Gone were the crowds, the market, the city.
He stood in a stone chamber, vast and ancient. The walls were covered in glowing script, flickering like it was alive. At the center stood a massive throne...empty. But not abandoned.
Shadows circled it. Not people....forms. They moved like memories with shape. Faces, but no names.
One turned toward him. No eyes. No mouth. But Kael heard it.
"Devourer. Inheritor. Heir to the Ruined Path."
The voice wasn't sound. It was understanding. Heavy. Final.
Then the vision broke.
Kael staggered back, gasping. Lira caught his arm.
His hand shook. He hated that she saw it.
"What did you see?" she asked, voice low.
Kael looked at the vendor. "What was that?"
Narin closed the box gently. "Like I said. A memory."
Kael didn't reply. He turned and walked away, dragging Lira with him.
Behind them, Narin called, "Tell your aunt Vessa I still owe her a punch in the face!"
Kael didn't stop.
They ducked into an alley two streets over.
"What was that place?" Lira asked.
Kael leaned against a wall, heart still hammering. "A throne. And something… saw me. Knew me."
She looked scared.
Kael's tone softened. "It didn't feel hostile. Just… old."
Lira nodded. "My pendant warmed up when you touched the shard. Like it recognized whatever you saw."
Too much magic we don't understand, Kael thought. Too many eyes. Too many names we don't know yet.
They returned to Vessa's shop an hour later.
But they weren't alone.
Across the street, a man stood under a lamppost. Guild coat. Insignia scratched out. Eyes still.
Not Hollowgate-born. Too clean. Too quiet.
Kael didn't stop walking. Didn't flinch.
But he saw him.
Spy.
They went inside and locked the door.
Then Kael finally said what had been burning in his mind all day.
"Someone knows we're here."