The fire between them crackled softly, throwing flickers of orange across the broken metal walls of the old skyship. Riven lounged with her back against a chunk of collapsed engine housing, lazily flipping a dagger between her fingers. Kael sat cross-legged, elbows on his knees, his eyes fixed on the glowing sigils that had reappeared on his arms.
They pulsed slowly—like a heartbeat in sync with something distant.
"So," Riven said, breaking the silence. "How long ago did you wake?"
Kael hesitated. "Six months. Maybe a little more."
"Was it loud?"
He glanced at her.
"The awakening," she clarified. "Some Echoes just… go cold. Quiet. But others—it's like something inside them screams."
Kael's jaw clenched. "Loud," he said quietly. "Very loud."
Riven nodded like she understood too well.
"Mine was in a sinkhole city outside the Stone Veil," she said, voice low. "Woke up covered in blood I didn't recognize, flames dancing in my mouth. Burned straight through the floor of a temple. Two stories."
Kael looked at her, eyebrows raised. "What Sigil?"
"Flame," she said. "Pretty sure, anyway. Fire bends toward me when I breathe too hard. Sometimes it talks, which is fun."
Kael didn't know if she was joking.
She didn't seem afraid of her gift. If anything, she wore it like armor.
"I've never met another Echo," he said.
"You'll meet more soon." She leaned back. "Especially if you're heading toward the Archive."
"You said that before. What is it? This 'Ember Archive'?"
Riven tilted her head. "A ruin. But not just any ruin. It's where the last Sigil scholars made their final stand during the war. People say there's knowledge sealed there—secrets that didn't make it out before the sky cracked open."
Kael's heart beat faster.
"Some say there's still a Sigil fragment buried under it," she added, almost teasing. "Could just be legend. But you're hearing the dreams, too, right? Silver-eyed woman, locked door, tower of glass?"
He nodded.
"Then you're being pulled, like me. Like all the others. The Archive's a beacon. Whatever's calling us… it's there."
Kael didn't know what to say. Part of him wanted to run from the pull. But another part, deeper and louder, wanted to understand.
And that part was growing.
The next day, they passed through the edge of the Bone Coast.
Bleached skeletons littered the sand dunes—some human, some unrecognizable. Ships with cracked hulls leaned at unnatural angles against rusted stone outcroppings. The air was thick with salt, decay, and old magic.
Kael could feel it crawling under his skin.
"Don't touch the water," Riven warned as they approached a shore littered with shattered statues. "It sings. Drowns your thoughts."
They moved fast, weaving through skeletal remains and long-abandoned camps. Riven took the lead, rifle in hand, Kael trailing behind with a bone-dagger clenched tight in one hand and sparks flickering in his palm from the other.
They made camp that night in the ribcage of a fallen sea beast the size of a house. Kael couldn't sleep.
The dreams came again.
The tower of glass. The woman with silver eyes. But this time, she spoke.
You are not whole.
Kael stood at the base of the tower, wind tearing at his cloak. He tried to move, but his body felt like sand.
Pieces of you were scattered. Forgotten. You must find them.
"Why?" he asked, his voice thin and distant.
Because if you do not, he will.
Suddenly, the sky split open. A figure descended through it—burning gold and black, wings of flame stretching across the void. Kael fell to his knees, screaming—
And woke gasping, his hand alight with starlight, the bone itched beneath his skin.
Riven was already awake, crouched nearby, blade in hand.
"You saw him too, didn't you?" she whispered.
Kael nodded. "Who is he?"
"I don't know," she said. "But he's hunting the same thing we are."
Later that morning, they passed a hanging post marked with sigils scorched into the wood—faint, angry lines that pulsed with dead heat.
A body hung from it.
Not dead.
An Echo.
He twitched as they approached, skin burned with carved runes, a hood over his face. Chains bound his arms and feet, and around his neck, a glowing red collar—the kind the Hollow Priests used to silence magic.
Riven hissed. "We're too close to their patrol routes."
Kael stepped forward.
"What are you doing?" Riven said sharply.
"I'm cutting him down."
"Are you insane? That's a trap. They leave them out like bait. You touch him, they'll know."
Kael looked up at the twitching figure. Blood stained the sand below his feet. His hands clenched involuntarily.
"They already know," Kael said.
He sliced the chain with a burst of white-blue energy. The moment the body hit the ground, the collar cracked. The Echo gasped violently, light exploding from the wounds across his chest.
A flare bloomed in the distance—red, unnatural, like a signal fire made of screaming.
Kael turned to Riven.
"They're coming."