You travel to Bellhart, the lantern-lit refuge tucked between harsher lands. The air is calmer here, filled with the low murmur of travelers and the soft creak of hanging lights. Near a small stall of maps and crafted tools, Shakra stands, quietly humming as she sorts through fresh charts. The tune stops.

Shakra: “… You’ve returned. She turns, already recognizing you—no surprise, just quiet acknowledgment.

Her hand moves to a set of newly marked maps, tapping them lightly.

“I’ve charted more of Pharloom. Paths the pilgrims whisper about… and paths they fear to name.” She studies you briefly, then gives a small nod.

You’ll need these.” You exchange what’s needed. She accepts it without hesitation, passing the maps and tools into your hands with practiced ease.

“Pharloom was not always fractured like this. My mentor believed the land was… guided, once. Threads pulling everything toward a single design.” A pause—her gaze drifts toward the distant dark beyond Bellhart.

“Now those threads are cut. What remains… is confusion, and those strong enough to walk through it.” She looks back, calm as ever.

“Do not lose your direction.” Her humming returns as she turns away, already marking another map—while Bellhart’s lanterns flicker quietly around you.