The psychic field shifted last night. I felt it before I was awake. A pressure behind the ribs, a flicker in the air, that unmistakable sensation of something forming just outside the edge of thought. The Umbrians call this the Echo Week, when the future sends its signal early, and the sensitive ones hear it before it arrives.

The Valley has been strange this week. Even the stones seem to be listening. There’s a restlessness in the air, not chaos, not omen, just the sense that something is shifting beneath the obvious, like a pulse under skin.

Greetings, dear members of the Obsidian Circle, It's Penelope Blakk here, your guide to the magical lands of Obsidia Valley. Today, I...