Disjointed visions, each more frantic and chaotic than the last.

Shadowy figures looming in the murky depths of the swamp, silhouettes ominous against the eerie backdrop. Danger emanating from them—palpable, suffocating. A threatening aura that might engulf me.

Suddenly—a dark dining hall, the only light provided by flickering torches. Around, people laugh and feast, reveling in a moment of carefree indulgence. Their skin, uniformly pale, their hair, stark black. Clothing, all green in various shades and styles—a family gathering? The air thick with belonging, but something…is unsettlingly out of place.

Abruptly, somewhere else. A figure, nothing more than a dark outline, hurling another body over the parapet of a towering structure. The falling figure's legs dangle limply in mid-air before a sickening snap, followed by the creak and sway of a rope.

Back in the hall, a piercing scream rends the air, slicing through the din of merry voices. Instantly, the room is chaos. People flee in terror, their faces contorted with fear as they push, shove, a stampede of desperation.

Somewhere else, darker still. Shadows flow along a stone passageway like thick, coagulating blood. From these shadows emerge a figure, features obscured save for a grotesquely wide grin. The laughter that follows was not merry or kind, but twisted and cruel. Chilling.

Next, a twilight courtyard and a panicked crowd. They stream out of an old stone building, screams filling the air. Lightning cracks violently from an unseen source, striking down individuals in random, lethal bursts. As if in response, the ancient stonework itself catches fire, flames licking the sky in a hungry, unrelenting dance.

Above it all, perched as if overseeing this chaos, a green heron. An unmoving observer to the horrors below, its eyes piercing and unblinking. The screams below fade into a haunting echo.

Suddenly, the heron is close, too close, its beak inches from my face. It crows, but the sound is wrong, unnatural. In a voice both foreign and familiar, it speaks urgently, "BURY THEM!"

—

I woke with a start, adrenaline alive inside me.

I was back in my bed at the tower, the twilight of the swamp visible through the doorway The dream, or whatever it was, lingered in my mind, a series of cryptic, unsettling images that left me disoriented and uneasy. What in the hell did that mean? Was it…just a dream, or something more? The heron's final words echoed in my head, a call to action or a warning? I couldn't be sure. All I knew was that it felt significant.

Then, with a bolt of blue recognition, I remembered where I'd been. I'd been dying of venom in the middle of the swamp. What the hell? What in the actual hell?!

My mind circled back to the events that had unfolded before I passed out. The memory was a blur, a chaotic rush of fear, pain, and desperation. That damn serpent, its fangs sinking into me, the venom coursing through my veins, paralyzing me, dragging me into its belly, the Elemental Shield...lying in the water waiting for what I was sure was my end.

And then what? How did I end up back here, in my bed, in this tower?

I didn't know. I didn't know how I'd escaped death's clutches, how I'd been ripped from the jaws of death back to the safety of this room. What the hell happened?

The last thing I remembered was the venom numbing my body, my lungs screaming for air. The swamp closing in around me, darkness creeping at the edges of my vision. And then... nothing. A void where my memory should have been.

I jumped out of the cot, blankets tangled around me, realizing I was naked underneath.

“Who took my clothes?!” I shouted at no one. It was a silly thing to wonder—especially aloud—but I had a confusion of sensations coursing through me. I whipped my head around, patting myself down to check my condition.

Then I paused.

I didn’t hurt. I didn’t even so much as ache. But most importantly…I was alive. How, though? How had I survived that encounter—there was no way. I was a goner, wasn’t I?

I looked down at my chest and froze. There were two large wounds healed over where the massive fangs had punctured my torso. I touched them, and the skin was rough and rubbery but still painless, looking like it had been healing for quite some time. Once again…how? I knew there was magic here—uh, Galdur—still needed to get used to that—but still…what had happened? One thing was for sure, I knew I’d need to find Myri and force it to explain…

Mentally, I trailed off, because I saw clothing again, folded up and sitting on the table just like before. But what really threw me for a loop was the coat. Once again, it was hanging on the hook by the doorway, however…the patch on the chest. It was different. Before it had been a blank diamond of leather, now it had a symbol on it.

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An acorn.

“‘The dirty yellow hell is going on here?” I demanded aloud. Then, because I didn’t receive a response and because I was cold, I started tugging on the garments. They were largely the same as before, except they didn’t have any mud, muck or tears in them. I assumed, by this, that these were a fresh set. So…someone was out here making clothes? Wouldn’t it be easier to just do the laundry? Then I put on the coat, examining the acorn sigil on my chest once more before leaving the chamber.

When I stepped out onto the landing, looking off above the ruins, I saw something new. Just like the last time I had come back from a challenge, the ruins had changed.

There, among the crumbling stone and overgrown foliage, stood a structure that hadn’t been there when I left out. It was a tall, imposing building made of rough stone, its design unlike anything else in the ruins. The walls were thick and heavy, with a jagged, uneven texture that made it look like it had been there for ages. Vines and moss clung to its surface, blending it into the swampy backdrop. The roof, or what remained of it, was slanted steeply, but parts of it had caved in, leaving gaping holes that let the dim light of the twilight sky through.

I caught glimpse of a glow from my vantage on the outcropping. Inside, faint and flickering, was the unmistakable light of Myri. I couldn't see the metallic diamond itself, but that illumination was a dead giveaway.

“Huh,” I said. “Already exploring my new progress, eh, Myri?” I said.

I squinted, trying to make out more details from this distance. The structure had a certain gravitas, a weight to its presence that drew my eyes and wouldn’t let go. It wasn’t just the architecture that fascinated me—it was the feeling it evoked. Like it was something ancient, something that held secrets or something else forgotten.

Around the structure, the usual sounds of the swamp seemed to recede, as if even the critters and the winds were wary of it. The air around it seemed to shiver slightly, though that could’ve just been the swamp gas or my imagination running wild after everything that had happened.

What struck me most was the doorway—or what looked like it could be one. It was tall, arched, and seemed to lead into darkness, a darkness that felt deeper than just the absence of light. It was like looking into a void, or the mouth of some giant beast.

“Damn,” I murmured, rubbing the back of my neck. “What now? Some kinda…spooky haunted library or something? Or just more of this world’s way of keepin' me on my toes?”

I wasn’t sure if I should head straight there or take a moment to gather myself. I mean, I had just survived being chow, and now this? The swamp didn’t give a guy a break, did it?

But curiosity, that persistent bug, was gnawing at me. I needed to know what that structure was, and why Myri was in there. So, with a deep breath, I decided to make my way down towards it...cautiously.

“Dammit, Riddara…fine,” I said under my breath. “Let’s see what you’ve got hidden in this new stone house of yours.”

—

I gazed up at the doorway, looming over me like a silent sentinel, its arch beckoning me forward.

“Ah, jeez,” I said. “This don’t feel right…but, I’m gonna have to do it anyway, I guess.”

Taking a deep breath and stepping through, I entered a chamber that seemed to resonate with an ancient stillness. The interior was vast, the hole-riddled ceiling high above held up by thick stone pillars that rose from the ground like the tree trunks surrounding this ruin. Between the pillars, the remnants of what might have been tapestries or banners hung. I furrowed my brow, trying to make out some of the art or what have you, but it was too tattered and faded—lost to time, I suppose you could say.

Then I let out a low whistle. In the center of the chamber was a pit. Not just any pit, mind you, but one that seemed to drink in the light, giving nothing back. It was a gaping maw in the stone, its edges worn smooth by what I could only imagine were centuries of quiet noise that now emanated softly from its depths. And that was really weird. I could hear the sounds, almost feel them. It was likely the wind, but it gave me the ol’ heeby and-or jeebies. Whispers, I knew suddenly—Marshlore at work. But they were unintelligible, almost like a chorus of voices too distant to discern, yet they sent a shiver down my spine.

Above the pit, floating with its usual calm demeanor, was Myri. The Steward of the Bog's glow was subdued in the dim light of the chamber, giving it an almost ghostly appearance.

"Myri!" I called out, my voice echoing slightly off the stone walls. "What the hell happened to me? What is this place? And why's there an acorn on my chest now?"

Myri turned towards me, its glow brightening slightly.

"Ah, Leo, welcome back. I am pleased to see you in good health."

"Good health?!" I spat, unable to hide my frustration. "Myri, I was nearly snake food! How did I even get back here?"

Myri hesitated, its light pulsing softly.

“We will...get to that,” it said. “As to your other questions…”

“Yeah,” I said, cooling off a bit. “This is one hell of a music venue. Acoustics are a bit off and the air conditioning leaves a lot to be desired, but hey—at least it’s terrifying.”

"This is Hvísla, the Whispering Hall," it explained. "It is a place of ancient power.”

“Fine,” I said. “And the sinister hole you’re orbiting?”

“The pit is its heart, a well of voices from the past."

I glanced warily at the dark pit. "Voices from the past, huh? Sounds... comforting."

"As for the mark on your chest," Myri continued, "it is a symbol of your bond with the Verndari. The entity you bonded with in the swamp."

“What?” I said. “But I didn’t bond with anything. I got chewed on by Rattlesnake Jake.”

“I believe you were...unaware at the time of the covenant,” Myri said.

“I’ll say!” I pointed to my chest to emphasize my point. “Got a couple o’ bug bites for my trouble, too. Who brought me back here?”

Myri floated near me, as if to examine the healed-over wounds. Its light almost seemed focused, or concentrated.

“And how are you feeling?” the rhombus asked, completely ignoring my question.

“I mean, I feel fine, physically,” I said. “But mentally, I feel like a hot bag of shit. I’m a wreck. Can you answer my question?”

“I aim to,” Myri continued. “I am simply ascertaining the extent of your covenant. Your Lífsþrótt seems strong—that is good.”

“Yeah, that’s the weirdest part,” I said. “I figured I’d be a bit worse for wear, but I think I actually feel better than I have in a long time. But I’m frazzled. I was sure I was about to die.”

“Oh,” Myri said casually. “You did die, Leo.”

“What?!” I shouted, not meaning to, but…I mean, come on. “What do you mean?!”

“You died…erm, briefly,” Myri clarified. “Long enough for the covenant to be struck and the bond to be established with your Verndari.”

I didn’t move. I didn’t speak. I couldn’t. Died? I wondered.

“Didja…didja use defibrillators on me or something? How am I still walking around?”

“The Verndari,” Myri said, but I wasn’t prepared for the next words that came out of the Steward. “At the moment of your death, it bonded to your spirit.”

Before I could even respond, Myri continued.

“Where it now resides.”