Ketcha's voice trembled, her gaze anchored to the ground as though seeking refuge from her fears. "The rocks... they speak to me," she confessed, her words hanging eerily in the air, almost too surreal to grasp.

"Strange things have been happening since we parted. I hear voices, whispers, cries emanating from the rocks. Everywhere I go, each stone, each pebble seems alive with a voice, a presence. It's suffocating."

She clasped her shaking hands, the contrast of her blackened fingertips against her pale skin striking. "It's like an endless echo in my head, pushing me to madness."

The revelation lingered heavily between them. Asbel, his brow creased with worry, extended his hand. "Ketcha, that's extraordinary. I've never heard of such a thing. Maybe it's not madness. Perhaps it's a power, something you're yet to understand."

"A gift?" Ketcha's laugh was laced with pain, bitter in its resonance. "It feels more like a curse. The Mani Tribe banished me, fearing me, thinking I was possessed. I've been wandering, haunted by these voices, utterly alone." Her eyes brimmed with fear. "I'm terrified, Asbel, of losing myself to them."

Asbel felt a pang of sorrow for her. The idea of Ketcha, always so resilient, now outcast and tormented, was heartbreaking. "You're not alone anymore, Ketcha. We'll find a way through this, together."

Yet Ketcha's gaze held a mix of determination and despair. "I can't burden you with this," she whispered, a tone of resignation in her voice. "I should go. I shouldn't have come."

As she rose unsteadily, her body betraying the toll of her journey and mental strain, she murmured, "I... I have to leave."

"No, Ketcha, wait!" Asbel called out as she started to walk away, her steps uncertain. In her haste and weakened state, she stumbled over a stone and fell. Asbel hurried to her side, but by the time he reached her, Ketcha had slipped into unconsciousness.