The air in the village grew still as the mist dissipated, leaving behind an unsettling silence. Amara stood frozen at the edge of the well, her mind whirling with the figure's words. The blood of the first promise, her ancestor, was the key to breaking the chain of oaths she carried. The weight of it all pressed down on her, and for a moment, she felt as though the world was shrinking around her.
Kirin stepped forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We'll figure this out, Amara. You don't have to do it alone."
She nodded, though her gaze remained fixed on the well. "It's just… how am I supposed to find someone who lived centuries ago?"
Lyra, silent until now, approached cautiously. "Perhaps there's more to the past than we know. The temple, the well—it's all connected. Your lineage… it's a thread, and we need to follow it."
