Corrigan’s pov
"Wake up, sleeping beauty," a voice whispered as my eyes fluttered open. My head throbbed, and my vision was still blurry. "You slept for way too long."
I tried to raise my head, but the voice gently urged me to stay put. It belonged to an old woman with wrinkles etched deeply into her skin, each line telling tales of the years she had lived.
"Who are you?" I managed to croak, my voice barely audible.
The old woman chuckled softly. "I'm the healer of these woods, child. The one who tends to lose souls like yours."
My head was pounding with questions, but she gently hushed me. "Rest now. We'll talk soon."
As she shuffled away, I tried to focus on my surroundings. The small, dimly lit hut was filled with dried herbs, hanging from the ceiling, and strange-looking potions
