Whispers out of Time

Chapter 1

─────⋅˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋅─────

Beneath the gilded spires of the Talseth's upper city, with its rarefied air and streets shimmering in wealth, lay its shadowed twin - the lower city. Here, buildings huddled close, whispering secrets under the moon's watchful eye. Their crooked forms cast intertwined shadows, creating a labyrinth of cobblestone that pulsed with Talseth's heart.

A cloaked figure, unremarkable yet deliberate, weaved through this tapestry of life. The lower city, a crucible of races and cultures, hummed with an eclectic symphony. Dwarves, wisdom knotted into their beards, bartered over iron with nimble-fingered gnomes, their inventions a dance of gears and springs. Elves, their timeless gaze drifting, wove through the throng with a grace that spoke of otherworldly realms. Overhead, halflings' laughter bubbled, weaving joy into the night air.

The streets were alive with scents – sizzling meats, sweet pastries infused with exotic spices, and the robust tang of ale. Walls, a canvas of the city's soul, bore faded posters and vivid graffiti, narrating tales in bursts of color.

In this part of the Talseth, life was worn openly – clothes stitched with history, faces carved with resilience. Children's laughter darted through the alleys, a beacon in the dim light, while elders observed from doorways, their eyes deep pools of hard-earned wisdom.

This was a realm untouched by the upper city's gloss, pulsating with a raw, untamed spirit. It was an enclave of harsh truths and bold dreams, where tomorrow was not promised but seized. Life here danced precariously between survival and ambition, each day a testament to the fierce will to endure.

The cloaked figure, a mere wraith among many, threaded through the throng. In these streets, freedom whispered in every corner. Here, far from the suffocating grandeur of a privileged past, questions thrived, learning was unshackled. Each whispered secret, each traded good, every fleeting look was a story unfolding. Only those with the right eyes and ears could decipher these urban tales.

Nestled between a blacksmith's roaring forge and a weathered bookstore, an unremarkable shop stood. Its facade, a tapestry of the ordinary and the extraordinary, hinted at hidden depths. Such places often cradled the most precious knowledge, shielded from the glare of those who shunned the depths of understanding.

The figure veered into an alley opposite the shop. A sliver of space, cloaked in darkness so deep the moonlight dared not trespass. Here, they became a shadow within shadows, a silent witness to Talseth's veiled heartbeat. From this concealed perch, they scrutinized the shop's doorway, eyes sharp and mind calculating.

As the night unfurled, the shop disgorged its visitors. A hulking orc, face etched with scars, clutched a parcel like a secret, his glance skittish as he vanished into the darkness. Laughter shattered the silence next, as a gaggle of young humans stumbled out, blissfully ignorant of the hidden observer. A gnarled gnome emerged last, pockets swollen with peculiar trinkets, murmuring of forgotten lore.

The unseen watcher studied each figure, dissecting their gestures, their habits. They sought the perfect guise, an ordinary facade that would allow them to blend seamlessly into the tapestry of the city. The cool night air caressed their skin, a stark contrast to the cloaked warmth, as they waited for the right moment, the right person.

At last, a figure exited the shop, capturing their keen interest. Average in height, cloaked in garb akin to their own, they moved with an understated grace. The observer's gaze sharpened, tracking the figure's quiet confidence, their face a hidden mystery beneath the hood.

In the alley's refuge, the cloaked observer drew back their hood, revealing their true visage. Skin as pale as untouched snow draped over pronounced cheekbones. Eyes, devoid of earthly sight, held the depth of too much knowledge, too much curiosity. White-grey hair, almost spectral, framed a face that contrasted sharply with the alley's gloom.