The witch of time

Previously

…The tremor in the tower intensified, a violent shudder that rattled the very stones. A low, guttural hum filled the air, a sound that spoke of immense power, of ancient judgment. The Guardian was not merely aware; it was acting. The question was no longer whether Elias’s presence was dangerous, but whether our connection, fragile as it was, was strong enough to withstand the storm. And whether, in embracing the flow, we would be swept away, or find a new shore together. The choice, it seemed, was no longer entirely mine to make.