Echo Witch Encounter

Morning came, cold and colorless. Julius woke suddenly, trembling. Every part of him ached from the hard stone beneath him. His stomach growled, the emptiness inside growing louder. He pushed himself up slowly, the wind biting through his worn tunic and the cracks in the crumbling walls.

He was alone. Truly alone now. Charon was gone, sacrificed to the cold, relentless Knight. His parents… he couldn't think about them. Not yet. The memory was too sharp, too raw. All he had were Charon's last, confusing words: Find the mirrored fragments! The key… it's not whole! Scattered… like reflections!

That strange stillness inside him, the one the Knight had chased, he felt it again. Was that the answer? Was something missing? It was a confusing thought, but it wouldn't leave him alone.

He needed water. Food. Shelter that wasn't just broken stone. Survival drove him on, pulling him from the little shelter the ruins offered. He looked out over the empty land, just more grey stone, dry bushes, and the constant wind. The soul-draining zones he'd avoided yesterday were hidden in the dim light, but he hadn't forgotten their eerie stillness. He needed to stay alert.

After walking for what felt like a long time, his throat raw and dry, he spotted it: a dark patch on the ground nestled between some larger rocks, away from the edge of the dead zones he sensed nearby. A tiny spark of hope lit inside him. Water? He moved towards it, feet dragging across the rough ground.

It was a shallow pool, more mud than water, but it was wet. Kneeling carefully, Julius cupped his hands and scooped up the murky liquid. It tasted of dirt and cold, but it eased the burning in his throat. As he reached for a second handful, his fingers brushed against something smooth and hard half-buried in the mud at the pool's edge. Curious, he pulled it free. It was a shard of polished black stone, unlike the rough grey rock of the area. It felt strangely cold.

"What disturbance is this? Who touches the echoes?"

Julius jumped, spinning around, his heart hammering against his ribs. Fear clamped down on him, cold and sharp.

Standing not ten paces away, blending almost perfectly with the shadowed rocks, was a woman. Wrinkles marked her face like a map. Her pale eyes were strange, never quite meeting his, always staring just beyond.

She wore layers of ragged, patched cloth, much like Charon, but hers were adorned with small, dangling objects, smooth stones, bits of bone, twisted metal, that clicked softly in the wind. She leaned on a twisted stick, taller than she was.

She took a step closer, her movements sudden and twitchy. Her pale eyes fixed on the black shard in Julius's hand. "You wake things that should stay asleep," she said, her voice dry and scratchy.

Julius scrambled back, dropping the shard. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Was she a Tracker? She didn't feel like them. There was no hunger in her gaze, just… strangeness. A deep weariness mixed with sharp suspicion.

"No soul-spark," she muttered, tilting her head, her eyes narrowing as they finally focused fully on him. "But… not empty either. Not like the dead zones. There are… ripples. Loud echoes clinging to you, boy." She took another jerky step. "What are you boy?"

Echoes? The word snagged in Julius's mind. Charon had spoken of forgotten power in the ruins, of residual energies. This woman… could she sense things like that?

Before Julius could move, she lunged forward, fast and sharp. Her bony fingers, cold like the shard, locked around his wrist.

"Let me see!" she hissed.

Julius cried out, trying to pull away, but her grip was like wire. Her pale eyes unfocused again, rolling back slightly. She went utterly still, only the clicking charms swaying in the wind. He felt a strange pressure build in the air, like the moments before the Knight attacked.

"Ah…" the woman breathed, her voice barely a whisper. "Cold… so cold… a walking emptiness… drawing power…" Her head twitched. "Ancient light… shattered… yes, fragments… starlight falling into darkness…" Images seemed to glow behind her eyes, like reflections on disturbed water. "And the Hunter… the Glass Knight… following the void…"

Suddenly, her eyes snapped back into focus, wide with terror. She threw him off with a force that surprised them both.

"Demon-marked!" she cried, eyes wide in terror. "You've been touched by the void, by the sleepers between the stars! The air around you screams of destruction!"

Julius stared, confused and frightened. Demon? Void? She saw the Knight, she saw the emptiness… she even spoke of fragments and starlight. But she twisted it, saw it as something evil.

"The Starborn… the Fallen Ones… you carry their broken shadow!" the Echo Witch yelled, her voice cracking with fear. She raised her staff, not like a weapon, but defensively. "Begone! You draw darkness! You draw the things that devour! Your echoes are poison!"

She slammed the butt of her staff on the ground. A confusing wave of sound washed over Julius – whispers, faint screams, the clash of metal, all overlapping. It wasn't loud, but it was disorienting, making his head spin. It felt like ghosts rushing past him.

He stumbled back, covering his ears. He wasn't a demon. He didn't understand what he was, but it wasn't that. Yet… her words echoed Charon's. Fragments. Starlight. Scattered. The Witch saw echoes, pieces of the past clinging to him. Charon said the key was scattered like reflections.

Reflections… Echoes… Fragments…

The realization hit him with the force of a physical blow, cutting through the confusing sounds. Charon hadn't just been speaking metaphorically. The key was scattered. He was scattered. Or rather, he was one piece. One fragment. The emptiness inside him, the strange connection to the Void, the faint sparks of light he sometimes saw, they were part of something bigger, something broken long ago. The Starborn.

And the echoes the Witch saw? They were the ghosts of that shattered whole. The whispers of what he was, or what he was meant to be.

"Get away!" the Witch screamed again, flinging a handful of dust and charms at him. The confusing sounds intensified briefly. She wasn't attacking, he realised. She was terrified. She was trying to ward him off like a bad omen.

Without a second thought, he fled. The muddy ground tried to hold him back, but he pushed forward, away from the Witch's shrill cries.

"Void-tainted!"

The wind took her voice, and he kept running, alone with the cold and the silence.

He ran until his lungs burned and his legs trembled, finally collapsing behind a ridge of rock far from the pool. He was still alone, still hunted, still cold and hungry. But something had changed. The fear was still there, a cold knot in his stomach. But now, mixed with it, was a tiny spark of understanding.

Find the mirrored fragments.

It wasn't just a riddle anymore. It was a task. He was a fragment. There were others. Scattered. He had to find them. He didn't know how. He didn't know where. He didn't know what they even were - other people like him? Objects? Places? But for the first time since Charon vanished, he felt a sliver, not of hope, but of purpose. He had to find the other pieces. He had to understand what it meant to be a Starborn fragment, an Animus Vacuus, an absence that echoed with forgotten power.

He scanned the huge, unsafe lands ahead. The road was long and full of danger. But now, he finally knew what to look for. He needed to find the pieces that mirrored his own broken life.