The Twilight Battlefield

The campfire was still burning in front of him.

But Aldric could no longer feel any warmth from it.

He stood among the three desiccated corpses with one hand pressed against his temple while the voices continued echoing inside his head.

Some were crying.

Some cursed him.

Others only repeated the same desperate plea over and over.

They did not want to die.

Every time Aldric circulated his mana, the voices became clearer.

"...give it back..."

"...Mother..."

"...save me..."

"Shut up."

He growled through clenched teeth.

It did nothing.

Aldric lowered his gaze to the ring on his hand, his voice turning cold.

"Why didn't you tell me about this before?"

Morgana did not answer immediately.

"I warned you that Ancient Magic is not something your current body can use carelessly."

"I'm asking about the things in my head."