★Nuel's POV★
I opened my eyes slowly, my vision blurred, my head pounding so violently it felt like someone was hammering from the inside. The scent of smoke and damp wood filled my nostrils, and when my sight cleared, I realized I was lying inside what looked like an old hut.
This wasn't where I remembered being last. Not during the contest. Not even in the realm of Eryndor's memories.
The last thing I recalled was him… his voice… his pain as he relived Thor's betrayal and spoke about the pendant—his Iruwa. His lifeline.
But this place wasn't there.
The walls were uneven, patched with mud and straw. The roof sagged slightly, letting slivers of pale morning light cut through the cracks. By the far corner, a faint fire flickered in a small hearth, its weak light barely pushing back the cold that clung to the air. Whoever owned this place must have gone through great lengths just to keep that little flame alive.
