Chapter 4: Savage Guardian

The journey back from the Whispering Crags was a waking nightmare. Each step was a monumental effort, my legs heavy as lead. The forest, usually a source of solace, felt like a hostile maze closing in on me. The thrumming in my head had escalated to a deafening roar, and cold sweat soaked through my tunic despite the chill. The pendant I’d found was a cold, hard lump in my palm, its mystery overshadowed by the sheer, debilitating agony of the Bond. This was more than weakness; it felt like...