At first light, the Market of Fractured Light resembled a street trying—and failing—to disguise itself as anything other than the ruin it had become. Workers shoveled scorched debris into heaps, vendors bickered over who owed whom for damages, and enforcers watched from every corner with the brittle posture of people too tired to hide it.
Yet beneath all the noise, the city carried a strange stillness, like the breath right before a shout.
Lyria Vens moved through the wreckage with Garron Hale beside her. Her hand hovered near the hilt of her rapier—not out of eagerness, but instinct. Something in the air was wrong.
"You feel how quiet it is?" she murmured.
Garron's jaw tightened. "Feels like Vaeroth's waiting for someone to slip."
"Someone already has," Lyria replied. "We just haven't found them yet."
A Laugh in the Ashes
Riko suddenly leapt down from a tower of broken crates and landed with a thud, grinning as though the market weren't still smoldering.
"Lyria! Garron! You're not gonna believe this!"
Halik climbed down after him, dusting soot out of his hair. "You didn't 'find' it. It dropped on you."
Riko held up a metal cube about the size of his fist. Delicate glowing symbols pulsed across its surface—thin, electric-blue lines that crawled like trapped lightning.
Garron eyed it dubiously. "And that came from… where?"
"The rubble behind the Sable Crier's stall," Riko said proudly. "Treasure."
Halik snorted. "You called that ratty old boot you picked up 'a sacred artifact' yesterday."
"It had… character," Riko muttered.
Lyria reached for the cube. "This is no toy. These markings… this is old magitech."
Garron's expression darkened. "The kind ordinary traders aren't supposed to be anywhere near."
"Exactly."
Riko leaned in. "Should I be worried?"
Lyria didn't answer immediately. The cube reacted to her touch—the glowing lines flickering in a way that felt disturbingly aware.
"Yes," she said at last. "You should."
Sable's Warning
A ragged voice drifted from a nearby alley.
"I told you all to leave that thing where it was."
Sable Crier stepped into view, propping himself against the wall as though he weren't sure his legs would hold. His once-proud cloak was scorched, and the swagger in his eyes had been replaced by something closer to fear.
Maera shoved him forward with the tip of a knife. "Convenient how he keeps showing up whenever someone finds trouble."
Sable shot her an irritated look. "Trouble follows you too, fox-girl."
"Sure," Maera said brightly. "But my trouble looks fabulous."
Kethra stomped up behind them, scowling. "Caught him sneaking off again. Nearly tripped over my anvil."
"That anvil is in the middle of the street," Sable snapped.
"That's why it works so well as a warning," she replied.
Soryn, the High Warden, approached with two enforcers. Her sharp gaze locked onto Sable.
"You know what that cube is."
Silence stretched. Even Riko stopped fidgeting.
Finally, Sable exhaled shakily. "It's not just tech. It's a tracker."
Garron stiffened. "Tracking who?"
"The woman who gave me the powder," Sable whispered. "She uses these to follow anyone who gets too close."
Soryn's voice dropped. "Then tell us who she is."
Sable swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing.
"The Cinder-Eyed woman. She's hunting something—or someone. And she doesn't tolerate witnesses."
The Cube Awakens
Before anyone could respond, the cube in Riko's hands flared brighter. Halik stepped back, dragon instincts flaring beneath his illusory skin.
"Put it down," he warned.
Riko set it on the ground just as it rose into the air on its own. Veins of light cracked across its surface. A strange, low hum shivered through the market, like a voice murmuring from somewhere far away.
Lyria yanked Riko behind her. Garron braced his iron arm. Maera slipped gracefully into her Foxglint stance.
A projection burst from the cube—shifting darkness forming a blurred, hollow face.
A whisper threaded through the air:
"I see you."
Then the cube broke apart, dissolving into drifting gray dust.
Fire on the Wind
They all stood frozen.
Kethra spoke first. "What… what was that?"
"A warning," Sable said weakly.
Halik shook his head. "No. A declaration."
Lyria watched the dust fall from her palms. "She knows we're involved now."
Garron flexed his metal fingers. "So what's our next move?"
Before anyone could answer, a heat rippled through the market—soft at first, then sharper, like a blade warming in a forge.
Maera's ears flattened. "That wasn't natural. Something's coming."
Riko pressed himself behind Halik. "Is it her?"
Lyria crouched slightly, grounding herself. "Whatever it is, we face it together."
Her gaze swept across the unlikely group—Garron, Maera, Halik, Kethra, Riko, even Sable.
For the first time, they stood as one.
A distant column of flame erupted in Vaeroth's old district. Screams followed. Bell towers rang in alarm.
Garron cursed. "So much for a break."
Soryn pointed toward the rising smoke. "Move. Whoever this Cinder-Eyed woman is… she's made her next move."
As they rushed toward the spreading fire, none of them noticed the silhouette perched atop a nearby roof—eyes narrowed, glowing like fading embers.
Watching. Smiling.
The hunt had begun.