The binding was not a knot, but a constraint of the soul.
Centuries ago, a desperate scholar sought a way to capture a forbidden thought. A thought that, if left to roam, would unravel the mind. He found a hag, ancient and cruel, who understood the architecture of concepts. She agreed, but the price was a binding—a promise. The pact wasn't for gold or power; it was for the scholar’s purpose.
The Hag did not bind his hands or his voice. She bound his very will to her whim. His mind became a vessel, moving and acting only at her command, forever enacting her twisted designs in the unseen corners of the world. He was a prisoner in his own body, his unique purpose silenced, replaced by her eternal, malevolent objective. The binding was complete: an unspoken contract that bled his essence into her ancient magic, forever. This is the truth of the Hag's Binding—a quiet, conceptual incarceration, and the true cost of a broken promise.
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