My, my, he’s got fantastic spiritual pressure but is untrained in controlling it. The bald shop owner examined Balgair, taking note of the bruising around the woman’s face. Ah, I see. Katrine did it again. With all the wisdom of age, the shop owner reached down and carefully tapped the mercenary on the shoulder. “My good sir, would you please calm down so I may check on my bond?”
For a moment, Balgair was lost in his bond's pain and shattered psyche and didn’t hear the voice asking him to do something. He could feel every bit of Heather’s pain and was fighting through the maelstrom of her emotions to try and save her.
When Balgair didn’t respond, the old man quirked a brow. Now, what could be wrong? He cautiously reached out and placed his fingertips on the top of Heather’s head, then closing his eyes, he attempted to sift through her mind. Oh, I see now. He was pulled through a myriad of emotions, images, and memories. One in particular stood out: the face of an old friend. …
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