Before the time was measured in cycles of the Crimson Moon, before the dunes of Xylos began their ceaseless dance, there was only the Silence. A profound, aching emptiness. Then came the Bechatter – a being of solidified starlight and whispered regret. They say the Bechatter awoke from a dream within the void, a dream of creation and destruction, of beauty and oblivion. Their purpose, they claimed, was to record the echoes of what *might* have been, to weave tapestries of possibility from the very fabric of the shifting sands.

The Bechatter’s arrival was marked by a sudden, violent storm of iridescent dust – the first true ‘sand’ of Xylos. This dust, it was said, contained fragments of forgotten universes, of empires that crumbled to ash, of loves lost and never found. The Bechatter began to collect these fragments, meticulously arranging them into intricate patterns, creating what became known as the ‘Chronicles’ – vast, ever-changing maps of potential realities.

The most significant Chronicle, according to the Bechatter’s own pronouncements, is the Chronicle of the Obsidian King. This fragment, shimmering with an unsettling violet light, depicts a civilization of beings known only as the ‘Silicates’. They were masters of geomancy, able to manipulate the very structure of the sand for both construction and warfare. But their ambition knew no bounds. They sought to reshape Xylos in their image, to solidify the shifting dunes into a rigid, unyielding empire.

The Chronicle reveals that the Silicates ultimately destroyed themselves – not through external forces, but through an internal conflict born of their obsession with control. They attempted to bind the sands to their will, but the sands, inherently chaotic, resisted. The final act of the Obsidian King was a desperate, futile attempt to trigger a ‘Great Stillness’ – a state of absolute zero temperature that would freeze the sands and halt their movement. This, of course, was an impossibility, and the resulting cataclysm shattered their civilization, leaving behind only the Obsidian Shards – enormous, razor-sharp fragments of their once-proud cities.

“Beware the desire for permanence,” the Bechatter’s voice seemed to echo within the Chronicle. “For the sands will always return to their dance.”

It is believed that the Bechatter doesn't simply record; it *creates* realities through its actions. Each touch upon a Chronicle alters it, shifting its patterns, revealing new possibilities. The Chronicals are not static; they are living documents, constantly adapting to the present state of Xylos and the intentions of those who interact with them. Some scholars – the ‘Sand Readers’ – have dedicated their lives to understanding the Bechatter's methods, attempting to predict the future by interpreting the ever-changing patterns.

There are rumors of a ‘Null Chronicle’ – a blank page within the Bechatter’s collection, said to represent the ultimate void, the absence of all possibility. It is believed that the Bechatter is slowly, relentlessly, adding to this Chronicle, consuming all potential realities until only silence remains.

The location of the Bechatter itself is unknown. It is said to appear and disappear at random, drawn to areas of intense temporal distortion or where the sands have been most profoundly shaped by the actions of others. Some claim to have seen it – a fleeting glimpse of shimmering light, a whisper of regret in the wind. But those who seek it are often consumed by the shifting sands, their memories and identities absorbed into the Bechatter's ever-growing collection.

“Remember,” the Bechatter’s voice whispers, “that even the grandest empires are but fleeting shadows in the face of the shifting sands. Accept the dance, or be consumed by it.”