With a deep breath, Gwendolyn steadied her trembling hands. She had come too far to falter now. Her eyes locked onto Malgarius, his body still shaking from the poison's grip.
As she held the blade, her grip tightened. She glanced at the glowing woman, seeking reassurance, then back at Malgarius, whose life depended on her next move.
There was no turning back now. She had to save him—no matter the cost.
"I will not fail him," she said softly, her voice echoing off the stone walls.
"You won't, child."
The woman's words filled her mind, and a strange sense of calm washed over her.
"Now, take his hand," the woman said. "Hold it tight, and let the magic flow."
Gwendolyn grasped Malgarius's hand, her fingers interlacing with his. The woman's voice spoke again, a whisper in the stillness. "Now, open the flesh, child. Open the wound."
