The witch of time

Previously

…Not just curiosity, not just compassion, but a nascent understanding, a recognition of the shared threads that bound us, however tenuously. The Guardian's presence was a heavy cloak, but Elias's gaze was a small, defiant flame against its oppressive weight. He was not afraid. Not entirely. And that, I realized, was the most dangerous, the most intoxicating, thing of all. The echoes of the past were no longer just whispers; they were a growing roar, and Elias was standing at the epicenter, unknowingly on the brink of awakening something that had been dormant for millennia.