Kalenor followed the villagers carrying the afflicted man into the elder’s hut. The air inside was heavy, thick with the weight of exhaustion and fear. The elder women sat around a table, their faces lined with both age and worry, waiting for him. Kalenor approached them, offering a brief nod of acknowledgment before asking, “Do you have anyone else afflicted like the man I just brought in?”

  One of the elders, an older woman with silvered hair, nodded gravely. “There is one other, Scalesworn. He’s currently in The Briarhouse.”

  Kalenor allowed himself a brief sigh of relief. “Two afflicted. That’s all?”

  The elder nodded again. “For now, yes.”

  “Is the man in The Briarhouse getting better? Or has his condition worsened?” Kalenor asked.

  The eldest of the group, a woman with the weight of many years upon her, looked troubled. “We don’t know. He hasn’t worsened, but he hasn’t improved either.”

  Kalenor’s expression darkened. “This isn’t a simple illness,” he said firmly. “This is more than a plague—it’s a corruption of Essentaria. It’s feeding on the very life force of the people.”

  The elders exchanged uneasy glances, but Kalenor’s words resonated with an uncomfortable truth. The air in the room felt even thicker as they processed his statement.

  “I need to see the man in The Briarhouse,” Kalenor continued, his voice steady. “Please bring me to him.”

  The elders gave reluctant but understanding nods. Kalenor gestured for the villagers to help lift the man and carry him to The Briarhouse. Just as they were about to leave, an elder called to him.

  "Scalesworn, there is something else you should know," the woman said, her voice edged with fear.

  Kalenor turned to face her, raising an eyebrow. "What is it?"

  The elder, who seemed older than the rest, took a breath before speaking. "A noblewoman passed through here not long ago. She was dressed in a gown of ocean-blue, with intricate designs that shimmered like the sea itself. Her hood was deep and draped in such a way that her face was hidden, but her presence was unmistakable—serene, yet commanding. The gown itself was adorned with silver thread in swirling patterns that resembled the tides, with delicate seashells sewn into the hem. The fabric seemed to glow in the sunlight, as though the ocean had infused it with its very essence."

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  Kalenor’s brow furrowed as he listened, his mind turning over the details. "And what did she want? Did she stay long?"

  The elder continued, her voice thick with unease. "She stayed for only a few days. At first, she seemed like a quiet traveler—reserved, almost cold. She didn’t speak much, and the people thought nothing of it. But there was something about her. The air around her felt... different, heavy with power. When she left, the sickness began. We didn’t make the connection at first, but now, it seems as if her arrival triggered this corruption. It’s not a coincidence.”

  Kalenor paused for a moment, considering the implications. A Lady of Nyxalian. His mind flashed to the eerie presence he had felt upon his arrival. The description of the woman in blue and the sense of power that lingered around her seemed too significant to ignore. Could she have been involved in some way? Perhaps she had come to help, or maybe she had been a conduit for something darker.

  “What exactly did she do here?” Kalenor asked, his voice calm but filled with an unspoken urgency. “Did she perform any rituals or speak of any cause?”

  The elder shook her head slowly. "No, nothing like that. She didn’t mention anything of the sort. She simply left, and soon after, the affliction began to spread. But it was subtle at first... small signs, nothing alarming until it grew worse."

  Kalenor’s amber eyes narrowed, his thoughts racing. Could this noblewoman have been tied to the decay in some way? Was she a part of something far more sinister than just a simple traveler? The connection was there—her presence and the plague had both arrived around the same time, but Kalenor couldn’t yet grasp what role she might have played.

  “I need to know more,” Kalenor said, his voice firm. “Did she leave anything behind? Any clue as to who she was, or where she was headed?”

  The elder hesitated before answering. “No, nothing. She left quickly, without a word. It was as if she simply vanished. And after that... things have only gotten worse.”

  Kalenor nodded slowly, his mind clouded with questions. A Lady of Nyxalian, cloaked in ocean-blue, tied to the decay somehow—he would have to find out more. Whatever had happened here, it was connected to her arrival, but how?

  “I will find her,” Kalenor said with conviction. “But first, I need to see the man in The Briarhouse. We need to understand the extent of this affliction.”

  The elder nodded solemnly, allowing Kalenor to proceed.

  Turning to the villagers, Kalenor gestured toward the afflicted man. “Take him to The Briarhouse,” he instructed. “We’ll find answers there.”