The Echoes of Hand-Chase

The Genesis of the Trace

It began, as all things do, with a ripple. Not a violent disturbance, but a subtle shift in the weave of existence. A moment where the boundaries between perception and reality blurred, leaving behind a residue – a *trace*. The trace of the Hand-Chase. Before recorded history, before the first whispers of language, there was only the pursuit. A relentless, silent hunt. Not for prey, but for the *absence* of something. A place where things had been, and were no longer.

The earliest chronicles, fragmented and unsettling, speak of travelers – individuals seemingly untouched by time, moving with an unnerving grace. They weren't warriors, nor scholars, but something… more. They followed the trace, guided by a compulsion they couldn’t articulate, driven by a knowledge they couldn’t comprehend.

The Mechanics of the Chase

The Hand-Chase isn’t a physical pursuit in the conventional sense. It’s an engagement with the echoes of what *was*. The trace manifests as a distortion, a coldness, a feeling of irrevocable loss. Those who are sensitive to it – rare individuals, often labeled ‘Listeners’ – experience this sensation and instinctively follow it.

The trace feeds on memory, on regret, on the inherent fragility of existence. The more intensely a place has been touched by sorrow, by trauma, by overwhelming emotion, the stronger the trace becomes. It’s a feedback loop, amplifying the past, drawing it back into the present.

"The trace doesn't seek to destroy, but to complete. To return what was stolen by time." - Elara of the Silent Watch

Chronicle Entries – Fragmented Accounts

1473 AE (After Emergence)

Veridia, the Sunken City “The buildings weep with a perpetual mist, and the air hangs heavy with the scent of brine and forgotten prayers. The trace is strongest here, a palpable grief clinging to every stone. We followed it for days, deeper and deeper into the ruins, until we found… nothing. Just the echo of a kingdom lost to the tides.”

2129 AE

The Obsidian Peaks - Citadel of Lyra “The air thrummed with a chilling resonance. We discovered a chamber filled with intricate carvings depicting a ritual – a sacrifice, perhaps? The trace led us to a single, untouched flower, pressed into a wax tablet. A poignant reminder of a love that burned brightly and vanished without a trace.”

3891 AE

The Grey Wastes - The Broken Observatory “A sense of utter desolation pervaded the site. The observatory was built to chart the stars, but now it serves only as a monument to ambition and failure. The trace was a cold void, a silent scream of lost knowledge. We found only fragments – a shattered lens, a half-written equation – and the lingering feeling of a mind consumed by obsession.”