Teleportation had never been easy for me, but the absolute pain and discomfort I felt as I was drawn through the Wayward Compass was beyond even the terrifying chill of entering Fallen Haven. At first, a solemn chill gripped my body and soul. The pain of my wounds receded into the blackness. But before I could breathe a sigh of relief, jagged knives stabbed into my flesh, turning and slicing me apart. They were crueler than any inquisitor blade, hotter than any fire. I tried to scream, but the sound was lost before reaching my ears.
The pain in my soul was even worse, transcending the agony of the Soul Binder. Bits and fragments were torn away, slowly working down to the inner depths. I clung to my bond with Haven and the Primordial Mark, holding fast as everything else was stripped away. They became the core of who, and what, I was.
