Aelys Veleth had always believed her life was ordinary. The small city of Velhar stretched before her like a map she had memorized over countless mornings, each cobblestone familiar, each shop window predictable. The hum of merchants and the chatter of townsfolk felt like a comforting rhythm—a rhythm she could follow without ever questioning it. Yet, even in the quietest, most repetitive routines, the faintest tremor of something unseen had begun to stir around her.
It started that morning, as sunlight seeped through the narrow slats of her bedroom window. A shimmer, barely noticeable, flickered along the edges of reality—like the air itself had been lightly bent. Aelys blinked, convinced she had imagined it, and tried to focus on her chores: sweeping the floor and arranging herbs on the windowsill. But the feeling wouldn't go away, a strange tug at the edges of her perception, as if the world were whispering secrets she wasn't yet ready to hear.
The first unmistakable sign appeared as she stepped outside. A small, scraggly cat—its fur a shade of gray that seemed almost unreal—crossed her path. But when she looked away for a moment, the cat had disappeared. She blinked again. A shadow flickered in the corner of her vision: another version of the same cat, or perhaps some fragment of a parallel reality, standing silently in the street beyond. It was gone as soon as she turned her head, leaving only the faint echo of a hiss in her ears.
Aelys's heart began to race. She had heard old stories—tales whispered by scholars and eccentric travelers about anomalies called Zones of Overlap, places where reality wavered and glimpses of alternative timelines leaked through. But she had never seen one. Not until now. Her fingers itched with something she didn't understand, a strange warmth spreading from her chest down to her palms, as if the very possibility of touching another world had awakened inside her.
"Are you feeling it too?" a voice called.
Startled, Aelys spun around. Standing at the edge of the plaza was a boy roughly her age, with dark hair tied back in a loose braid. His eyes, a sharp shade of amber, flickered with curiosity and something else she couldn't name.
"Feeling what?" she asked, though her voice trembled slightly.
"The… echoes," he said, stepping closer. "The distortions. Not everyone notices them. Some of us can… touch them."
Aelys studied him cautiously. There was a certainty in his tone that suggested he wasn't lying, yet the words themselves sounded absurd. Touching echoes of reality? It was impossible, and yet, the air around them seemed charged, humming with the faint resonance of worlds layered atop one another.
"My name's Kael," he continued, offering a hand. "And I think… you're one of them."
"One of… what?" she asked, though a shiver ran down her spine.
He smiled faintly, as if he expected the question. "Someone who can perceive the fractures in the world. Someone who can interact with them. Some call it dangerous, others call it a gift."
Aelys swallowed hard. The warmth in her palms spread, tingling like electricity. She clenched her fists and instinctively concentrated, trying to force the sensation into something she could understand. And then it happened: the air in front of her shimmered again, this time more solid, like a curtain of light fluttering in the wind. She reached out.
Her fingers brushed it.
A sharp, dizzying rush filled her mind—images of streets she had never walked, skies of colors she had never seen, voices speaking languages that were just beyond comprehension. She stumbled back, gasping, and the vision vanished, leaving her in the familiar plaza of Velhar—but nothing felt quite the same.
"You see it," Kael said, almost gently. "And now it sees you."
Before she could ask what he meant, the shimmer returned. This time it wasn't small, not a mere flicker. It expanded, enveloping the street in a faint glow, revealing shapes that overlapped with her reality. A second Aelys—identical in every way—stood a few feet away, staring back with the same wide-eyed shock. Then, as quickly as it appeared, it collapsed into nothing, leaving Aelys trembling and staring at her own hands.
"It's only the beginning," Kael said. "There are things in the world… things beyond our understanding, hidden in the cracks. And somehow, you're part of it now."
The ordinary streets of Velhar no longer seemed ordinary. The familiar chatter of merchants, the distant ringing of the bell tower, even the wind brushing through the trees—all of it carried the faintest, impossible undertone. Aelys knew, with a certainty that settled deep in her bones, that her life had changed forever.
She was no longer just a girl from a quiet city. She was a Risonatrice Parallela—a weaver of echoes, a reader of possibilities. And somewhere, just beyond the edge of her perception, countless versions of herself waited, watching, waiting, and shaping a destiny that had only just begun.
And as she met Kael's gaze, Aelys understood: the path ahead would be dangerous, chaotic, and utterly extraordinary. But she had no choice. She had been chosen… by the fractures themselves.