The Iron Spire stood at the heart of Lumenholt, its jagged silhouette piercing the night sky. Built centuries ago, it was said to be the town's oldest structure, yet its metallic sheen seemed untouched by time. Many believed it was a relic from a forgotten era, though few dared to question its true origins.
Eran stood at the base of the towering structure, his breath visible in the cold night air. The woman's cryptic instructions had led him here, and despite his better judgment, he'd come alone.
The streets were eerily quiet, the usual hum of the town replaced by an oppressive silence. Eran glanced around, his nerves on edge. He felt like he was being watched, though the shadows gave nothing away.
"You're punctual," came a voice from above.
Eran looked up to see the woman perched on a ledge halfway up the spire. Her cloak billowed lightly in the breeze, the faint shimmer of its fabric catching the moonlight. She leapt down gracefully, landing a few feet in front of him.
"Who are you?" Eran asked, his frustration breaking through his cautious demeanor. "Why do you keep showing up, and what do you want from me?"
The woman regarded him for a moment, her expression unreadable. "You can call me Lyra," she said finally. "As for what I want—it's not just about you. It's about this town, this world."
Eran folded his arms. "You're still not answering my questions."
Lyra sighed, as if deciding how much to reveal. "Fine. The council you're so curious about—they're not what they seem. They're not just ruling Lumenholt; they're controlling time itself."
Eran blinked. "Controlling time? That's impossible."
"Is it?" Lyra countered. "Think about everything you've seen. The ancient architecture, the futuristic devices, the way this town feels…off. Lumenholt is caught in a temporal loop, a place where past and future coexist unnaturally. And the council is responsible."
Eran opened his mouth to protest, but the words caught in his throat. Her explanation made too much sense, aligning with the oddities he'd observed his entire life. "Why would they do that?"
"Power," Lyra said simply. "The Eternal Rift is their creation—a tear in time that allows them to manipulate history and the future. They've built their rule on it, erasing anyone who threatens their control."
Eran's mind reeled. The council's authority had always seemed absolute, but the idea of them tampering with time was beyond comprehension. "Why tell me this? What can I do about it?"
Lyra stepped closer, her gaze intense. "Because you're part of this, Eran. The Rift didn't just happen—it's connected to you in ways you don't understand yet. And if you don't act, this entire town will collapse into chaos."
Eran's heart pounded. "Connected to me? How?"
Before Lyra could answer, a sharp sound cut through the night—a metallic clang, followed by hurried footsteps.
"They've found us," Lyra said, her voice suddenly sharp. She pulled a strange device from her belt, a metallic object with glowing blue veins running through it. "We need to move. Now."
Eran barely had time to react before a group of enforcers emerged from the shadows, led by none other than Garrick Hensley.
"Well, well," Garrick sneered. "The historian and his mysterious friend. You've been causing quite a stir, Vale."
Eran's hand went to his blade, but Lyra grabbed his wrist. "Not yet," she whispered.
Garrick raised a hand, signaling his men to surround them. "Surrender quietly, and maybe I'll go easy on you."
Lyra smirked. "I don't think so."
She pressed a button on the device, and the air around them shimmered. A wave of energy rippled outward, sending the enforcers stumbling back. Lyra grabbed Eran's arm, pulling him into the glowing field.
The world around them blurred, the streets of Lumenholt dissolving into a swirl of light and shadow. When the sensation stopped, they were somewhere else—a hidden chamber bathed in soft blue light, its walls covered in intricate symbols that glowed faintly.
Eran staggered, struggling to catch his breath. "What just happened?"
"Temporal jump," Lyra said, pocketing the device. "One of the few tricks they haven't managed to replicate."
Eran looked around, his head spinning with questions. "Where are we?"
"A safe place," Lyra said. "For now."
She turned to face him, her expression serious. "If you're going to survive this, you need to learn the truth about the Rift—and about yourself. Are you ready?"
Eran met her gaze, his fear giving way to determination. Whatever this was, he couldn't turn back now.
"I'm ready," he said.