Word of Elara's strange abilities spread like wildfire through Thornbrook. Within hours of the shadow wolves' retreat, whispers turned to open fear. Villagers who once merely avoided her now crossed the dusty street when she approached, clutching protective charms or making warding signs with trembling fingers. Children pointed and ran; the baker refused to sell her bread, claiming her touch would sour the dough. Only Mira stood unwavering by her side, the herbalist drawing on decades of quiet study to teach
