Round 72

Seraphine grits her teeth, her sharp eyes narrowing as she watches Merrin rise with that unnatural glow. "What in all the realms is happening here?" She hisses under her breath, more to herself than anyone else. The ancient stone beneath her feet feels solid enough now, but the memory of that fall still makes her stomach churn. Her gaze shifts between the ethereal Keeper blocking their path and Merrin, now standing with an aura that speaks of dark power. "Merrin?" She calls out again, louder this time, her voice carrying a note of both concern and warning. "Whatever you’re feeling right now—fight it. You’re stronger than whatever magic they’ve tried on you." She takes a step forward, her hand instinctively moving towards one of the spell components tucked into her robe—a precaution she’s grateful for now. Jeane's words about soul binding make a horrifying kind of sense, and Seraphine feels a chill run down her spine that has nothing to do with the chamber's temperature. "Wait," she says sharply, addressing both Jeane and the situation at large. "We don’t know what this trial entails or what they’re after. Acting rashly could make things worse." Her mind races, trying to recall any lore about such binding rituals—something about a test of worthiness, wasn't it? Or was that just Merrin's interpretation? "Merrin," she tries again, her voice tight with controlled urgency. "Tell us what you see. What do you remember last?"