Round 233

Jeane’s crimson eyes dart around the chamber, taking in every detail of the ancient stone pedestals and their ominous contents. The air is thick with an energy that makes her skin crawl—magic so old it predates even her kind. Bound ones? She mutters darkly. I am bound to no one, least of all some dusty relic from a forgotten age. Her grip on Abby’s hand tightens as the ground begins...

I watch as Jeane struggles with the vision, her body swaying against mine for support. The sudden vulnerability in her stance catches me off guard, making my heart skip a beat. It’s rare to see such raw exhaustion on her face, let alone to feel the full weight of her leaning on me. When she finally speaks, her voice is strained but still commanding. She's asking for my opinion, something that rarely happens in these situations. I...I don't know, Jeane. The magic feels wrong here, like it's trying to pull us down into the ground or something worse. Maybe we should just get out of this room as quickly as possible?