The morning after the binding ritual was eerily quiet. The wind barely stirred the leaves, and even the distant calls of wildlife seemed absent. Elara could feel the change inside her immediately. The power of the Heart of Thalor pulsed like a second heartbeat, its energy a dark thread woven through her veins. She could control it now, for the moment, but the sensation was unsettling—like holding back a storm with nothing but sheer willpower.
Kirin approached her as she stood at the edge of the clearing, his expression cautious. "How do you feel?"
Elara kept her gaze on the horizon, still unsure how to answer. "Different. Stronger, maybe. But the power... it's dangerous. It feels alive, and it's watching."
"Watching?" Kirin asked, frowning.
Elara nodded. "It's as if the Heart is waiting for me to slip, to lose focus. Morgana said the corruption would still try to seep through. I can hold it back for now, but I don't know how long that will last."
