The cold air of the *Temple of Whispers* clung to Amara like a second skin, its eerie stillness broken only by the slow, deliberate sound of her footsteps. Each step she took seemed to echo with the weight of unseen eyes, the spirits of those who had failed watching her, waiting to see if she would follow the same doomed path. Her heart felt heavy, not just from the knowledge she now carried, but from the realization that her retinue was gone—swallowed by the same darkness she had just emerged from.
For a moment, she stood in the center of the grand chamber, alone with the silence. The altar loomed before her, its presence somehow more ominous now that she had survived the temple's test. She could feel the pull of the ancient oaths, invisible chains that now bound her to this place and to the past.
