It was one of those quiet, peaceful evenings in Ashvale. The kind where the village felt like it had fallen asleep with the sun, leaving only the rustling trees and the distant murmur of the river to keep watch. For most, this was the perfect time of day—a moment to rest after long hours spent working the fields or tending to the marketplace.
But not for Jake Tennison.
Jake, of medium height and lean build, stood at the edge of the old well in the village square. His long, silky black hair fell around his sharp, brooding face, catching the remnants of sunlight in strands of dark silver. His deep-set eyes, usually warm brown, now reflected only shadows. His mind was lost in a swirl of thoughts he couldn't quite grasp. The sky above was painted in hues of purple and gold, but the beauty of the evening escaped him. His thoughts were elsewhere—tangled, heavy, and inescapable, as they had been for months.
The visions had been growing more frequent, and they now haunted him even during the day. Flashes of strange places he had never visited, unfamiliar faces, and most disturbing of all, a figure cloaked in shadows. The Veiled King. The name alone sent shivers through his spine.
Jake rubbed his temples, trying to banish the image from his mind. His heart pounded, and the Echo—the strange power he'd harbored since childhood—hummed beneath his skin. Every time it stirred, it left a fragment of him behind, a piece of his memory, his identity. It was as if the power was slowly eroding him from within.
How much longer until there was nothing left?
A familiar voice broke through his thoughts.
"Jake?"
He blinked, the darkness retreating as he turned to see Lexi Simpton standing nearby. Her beauty was ethereal in the fading light. Her auburn hair, cascading in soft waves, caught the last rays of sunlight like a halo of flame. Her eyes, a brilliant green, were as sharp as they were tender, reflecting a softness that always seemed reserved for him. She had a small, delicate frame, but her presence was anything but weak. There was strength in her—strength Jake found himself clinging to in moments like these.
"I knew I'd find you here," she said, sitting down beside him.
For a moment, the weight on Jake's shoulders eased. Lexi had always had a way of making the world feel less overwhelming, like an anchor in the chaos of his mind. Her presence was a comfort he never knew he needed until she was near.
"You've been distant lately," she said gently, her tone probing but kind. "What's going on with you?"
Jake hesitated. He wanted to tell her everything—about the visions, the Echo, the terrifying sense that something dark was closing in on him. But how could he? How could he explain something he barely understood himself?
"I've just had a lot on my mind," he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
Lexi studied him, her piercing gaze making him feel as if she could see right through his defenses.
"You don't have to go through it alone, you know," she said softly.
Jake offered her a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I know."
For a moment, Lexi's presence soothed him, but the shadows of his visions still lingered, creeping in the corners of his mind. The Echo was not just a curse; it was a ticking clock, counting down to something inevitable. But deep down, he wasn't sure she could truly understand. The Echo wasn't just a burden. It was like a ticking clock inside him, counting down to something inevitable, something he couldn't escape.
As night fell, Jake made his way back to his home on the outskirts of the village. His father, Klauson Tennison, had already retired for the night. The soft sound of his snores drifted from the upstairs room as Jake stood in the doorway of his own room, staring at the bed but feeling no desire to sleep.
Instead, he walked over to the window, leaning against the frame and looking out at the stars. Somewhere in the distance, the faint sound of a flute echoed, its haunting melody making the night feel almost magical. But the magic of the moment was dulled by the heavy burden of his visions.
Then, something shifted—a strange sensation in the air, like a ripple across his skin. The Echo stirred within him, unbidden. His breath caught in his throat as dizziness hit him, and the world around him seemed to blur.
Suddenly, he wasn't in his room anymore.
He stood in a vast field, a battlefield. Flames danced in the distance, casting eerie shadows against a sky darkened by smoke. Bodies lay scattered across the ground, lifeless. And there, in the distance, was the figure—the one from his nightmares. Cloaked in black, its face hidden beneath a hood, the Veiled King held a blade glowing with an unnatural light.
The vision snapped away, and Jake found himself back in his room, gasping for air.
"What's happening to me?" he whispered, his hands trembling.
The Echo hadn't just shown him a vision—it felt like a memory. But how could that be? He had never been on a battlefield, had never encountered this Veiled King in person.
A knock at his door startled him.
"Jake?" His father's voice, groggy with sleep, called from the hallway. "You alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, Dad. Just couldn't sleep," Jake replied, forcing his voice to sound normal.
There was a pause before Klauson's footsteps retreated down the hall. Jake sank onto the edge of his bed, his mind spinning.
What did it all mean? Why was the Echo showing him these terrifying visions? He was just a farm boy from a small village. How could he be connected to such darkness?
The next morning, the village was its usual bustling self. Farmers tended to their crops, children ran through the streets laughing, and merchants were setting up their stalls in the marketplace. It was a scene that should have brought Jake comfort, but today, it only made him feel more out of place.
As usual, Atlas, his best friend, was waiting for him at the well. Atlas Lockwood, like Jake, had grown up in Ashvale. Atlas is tall with a strong, muscular physique and a naturally commanding presence, greeted him with a broad smile. His white skin gleamed in the morning sun, and his dark eyes held an easy charm. but while Jake often felt burdened by the weight of his visions, Atlas carried a lighthearted spirit that never seemed to dim.
"You look like you haven't slept," Atlas remarked, his dark eyes filled with concern. "Are the visions getting worse?"
Jake nodded. "They're starting to feel real. Like... memories."
Atlas's brow furrowed, but before he could say anything, Lexi arrived, greeting them with her usual warmth.
"You didn't sleep again, did you?" she asked, crossing her arms.
Jake shook his head. "It's getting harder. The visions—they're more than just glimpses. It feels like I'm remembering things that never happened."
Lexi placed a hand on his arm, her touch grounding him. "We'll figure it out," she said, her voice firm with determination. "You're not alone in this."
Before Jake could answer, a sudden chill fell over the square. The villagers around them seemed to pause, their movements slowing as an ominous figure approached. Tirth Salsa entered the square, his presence unsettling. He was tall and lean, his sharp features framed by dark hair that fell around his pale face like a shadow. His cloak, black as midnight, billowed behind him, carried by an unseen force. His eyes, dark and bottomless, locked onto Jake with an intensity that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
The man stopped in front of Jake and his friends, his gaze settling on Jake with unsettling intensity.
"You're Jake Tennison," Tirth said, his voice a low, gravelly whisper that carried across the square, though no one else seemed to hear. His words felt like a cold hand gripping Jake's spine.
Jake instinctively took a step back, his arm moving to shield Lexi. "Who are you?"
The man's lips curved into a small, enigmatic smile. "My name is Tirth Salsa, and I've been looking for you."
Atlas stepped forward, his posture defensive. "Why? What do you want with him?"
Tirth's gaze flickered to Atlas, but he remained unmoved, his eyes returning to Jake with a chilling intensity. "You're in danger, Jake. The people who want your power will stop at nothing. If you're not careful, they'll take everything from you."
Jake's heart raced. "What are you talking about? Who are these people?"
"The Order of the Horizon," Tirth replied, his voice darkening. "They've been watching you for years, waiting for your powers to mature. Now that they have, they won't stop until they control you."
Jake's pulse quickened. He had heard rumors of the Order, whispers of a shadowy organization that operated behind the scenes, manipulating events from the shadows. But he had never imagined they were real.
"What do they want with me?" Jake asked, his throat dry.
"They want the Echo," Tirth said, stepping closer. "Your ability to manipulate time. They believe it holds the key to an ancient prophecy—one that could reshape the world."
Jake felt a cold sweat break out on his skin. His entire life had felt like he was being drawn toward something he couldn't understand. But this? This was beyond anything he had ever imagined.
"Why should I believe you?" Jake asked, his voice shaky.
Tirth's expression darkened. "Because if you don't, the Order will find you. And when they do, it will be too late."