The Riftweaver's Gambit Chapter 1: Running in Circles

Please read the prologue first! This will make no sense otherwise lol.

Chapter 1: Running in Circles

Of all the places in Zephyris to get spit out, it had to be the “labyrinth” market, known by the locals as The Maw. As the name suggests, a place that swallows and devours fools who don’t know the way out. And today I’m the biggest fool of them all.

I ran like my life depended on it (because it did), leaving a wake of chaos behind me. Shoving my way through the narrow winding streets, knocking over barrels, garbage bins, crates of product, even a street stall full of glowing green vials. The bounty hunters emerged from a cloud of green smoke, coughing and swearing.

“No escape, Thief!”

“Hand over the shard, and we’ll make it as painless as possible!”

Not a very convincing argument.

I continued weaving through the alleys. I leaped over a crate of fruit, spinning in midair as I landed. The mercenaries skidding to a stop, the sudden change in direction causing them to crash into each other. There was almost a rhythm to running away, right, left, cut across, double back.

When exactly did I get so good at this?

I was still gripping the shard in my hand, pulsing like a beating heart. The whispers of The Rift pressed against my skull like a distant but painful hum.

I turned to check behind me. They were closing in, and fast. I wasn’t exactly built for endurance—Tall, thin, and wiry. My tattered coat wasn’t doing me any favors, its many holes now joined by several new rips and tears.

There was a right turn at the end of the alley, then a left, then—

Dead end.

You can’t be serious.

I stumbled to a stop, cursing and out of breath.

The bounty hunters approached, disheveled and angry.

Six rough looking men, all brandishing swords and daggers.

The leader spoke first—an enormous bald man with a scar cutting across his face.

“Nowhere left to run.”

He was right.

At that moment the shard began pulsing harder, the whispers became clearer.

Break it.

Shatter it.

Shatter.

Shatter.

Break it all.

Crumble to dust.

My hand burned and I felt a wave of energy surge from the shard.

Then the world began to crack.

The stones beneath me gave way, a wave of blue light surged forward, sending the bounty hunters stumbling.

Scarface recovered quickly, lunging with his sword. I ducked his first swing, rolled under his legs, then got a bit of distance. I slammed the shard into the ground, the destruction that followed left a jagged fissure in the alley.

Scarface stepped back, slightly more on guard than before.

“That’s a neat trick, kid.” He grinned, clearly unimpressed.

“Thanks,” I joked, even though I had no clue how I did it.

At that moment a loose chunk of rubble from a run-down building came crashing into the street. The impact created a puff of dust and debris that covered the entire alley.

For once something goes my way.

And once again I ran.

I didn’t stop until I’d found a small alcove wedged between two crumbling buildings.

I was out of breath, every inhale felt like knives stabbing my lungs.

“Sloppy.”

Upon hearing the voice I raised the shard, ready to destroy another building or two.

“That was sloppy, even for you.” The voice said, in a smooth and mocking tone.

A woman was leaning against the wall opposite my hiding place, Half hidden by the shadows from the surrounding buildings.

Her silver hair caught the dim light like spun moonlight. Glowing violet eyes, sharp, piercing, and amused.

She was dressed in tight black leathers, with a black cloak that looked both practical and expensive.

A knife materialized in her hand. Pitch black, like it came out of her shadow. She twirled it between her fingers lazily, her relaxed and cool attitude made me lower my guard.

“So, what’s the situation, it took almost a week to track you down.”

“Who the hell are you?” I asked, my head spinning with questions.

She smirked.

“Aeryn.”

She took a few steps closer, analyzing me like a failed experimental subject.

“And I’ve been looking for you.”