"Then we should waste no more time," said the elder root-singer."The barrier must be sealed before the next dark tide."
One representative from each tradition stepped into the circle—the silver-haired cryomancer, the weather-lined storm-caller, and the elder root-singer.They arranged themselves in a triangle, facing inward, while the others moved back to the edges of the chamber.
"Are we certain there is no other way?"asked the cryomancer, her voice lowered."Once done, this cannot be undone."
The storm-caller sighed, a sound heavy with resignation."We have searched every current, followed every path.This is the only way to seal the breach."
"For now," added the root-singer, her expression grim but determined."The seal will degrade with time.The darkness will return."
"Then our descendants will have to face it," said the cryomancer."As we did."
The root-singer nodded, a faint smile touching her lips despite the gravity of the moment."They will have time, at least—centuries, if our calculations are correct.Perhaps they will be able to refine the ritual."
"Even if they fall to the abyss, there will be millions of lives lived in those centuries," said the storm-caller."Children born who would otherwise never draw breath.That alone makes this worth the price we pay."
They knelt as one, placing their palms flat against the stone floor, directly atop the carved runes.As they did, the channels began to glow—blue beneath the cryomancer's hands, electric white beneath the storm-caller's, and golden beneath the root-singer's.
The three began to chant, their voices weaving together in a harmony that made the air vibrate with power.The glow intensified, spreading outward from their hands to fill the entire runic pattern.The light pulsed, growing stronger with each repetition of their chant, until it became painful to look upon directly.
Thalia felt the magic building in the chamber, a pressure that seemed to push against her very consciousness.This was ancient power, raw and unfiltered, drawn from the deepest wellsprings of three distinct magical traditions and bound together through sheer force of will.
The chanting reached a crescendo, the three voices merging into a single resonant note that seemed to pierce the veil between worlds.The light from the runes shot upward in a column that connected floor to ceiling, then spread outward along the dome in a web of interconnected channels Thalia had never noticed before.
The three Founders collapsed as one, their bodies going limp as the magic overwhelmed them.A shockwave of power rippled outward from the circle, passing through the watching practitioners, through the stone walls, through Thalia herself—carrying with it a sense of completion so profound it stole her breath.
As the light began to fade, Thalia realized what she had witnessed—the creation of the very mechanism she had accidentally activated in her desperate attempt to save Frostforge from the Deep Ones.These three practitioners had given their lives to create a barrier that had held for centuries, keeping the Deep Tide at bay until it had finally begun to fail in her time.
And as the vision dimmed around her, returning her consciousness to the formless void, one thought burned brighter than all others: If the original barrier had been created through the unified power of all three magical traditions, then perhaps the same unity was required to create a new one.A fresh seal, to replace the one that had faded.
CHAPTER SIX
The blue-white arcs of storm magic died between Roran's fingertips, fading into the still air of the infirmary like the last gasp of a drowning man.Three days without sleep had carved hollows beneath his eyes and tremors into his hands, yet still he reached for the power that had sustained him since childhood, searching for just one more spark, one more thread of energy that might reach Thalia where she drifted beyond their grasp.Nothing came.His magic, like his hope, had run dry.
"Enough."Luna's voice cut through the silence, firm but gentle."That's enough, Roran."
He ignored her, extending his hands once more over Thalia's still form.Her face remained unchanged—pale as Northern frost, lips tinged with the faintest blue, eyelids motionless above dreams or nightmares no one could reach.The only sign that she lived at all was the shallow rise and fall of her chest beneath the wool blanket, so slight that sometimes Roran found himself holding his own breath just to be certain of hers.
"I said enough."Luna stepped forward, her small hand closing around his wrist with surprising strength.The perpetually distracted demeanor she showed the world had fallen away these past few days, revealing the steel beneath."We're stopping now."
Behind her, Naj nodded, his tattooed hands falling to his sides.The Isle Warden's face was lined with exhaustion, the intricate wave patterns on his arms seeming to ripple with his fatigue."Meadows is right.We've done all we can with this method."
"No."Roran pulled his arm from Luna's grasp.His voice emerged as a rasp, his throat raw from the static-charged air they'd been breathing for hours."We can try again.Different patterns.More power."
"Morepower?"Luna's eyes narrowed, a flash of genuine anger breaking through her composure."Do you understand what we're doing here?We're sending electrical currents through her brain, Roran.Through the most delicate parts of her.Magic or not, there are limits to what a human body can withstand."
Roran's hands clenched into fists at his sides.He knew she was right.He'd seen what storm magic could do to a person when misapplied—had seen men convulsing on ship decks after being struck by lightning, their eyes rolled back, blood leaking from their ears.The thought of causing that kind of damage to Thalia made his stomach knot with dread.
"There must be something else we can do," he said, hating the pleading note that had crept into his voice."Some other technique, some way to reach her..."
Luna shook her head, her expression softening as she met his desperate gaze."If we keep trying this method, we risk doing irreparable harm.The currents might reach her, yes—but they might also burn away parts of who she is."She placed a hand on his arm, her touch lighter now."We have to accept that this approach isn't working."
"Then what?"The question burst from him like a prayer and a curse combined."We just wait?Hope that she wakes up on her own?"
"For now, yes."Luna's gaze dropped to Thalia's face, her expression unreadable."But that doesn't mean we stop looking for solutions.I'm going to the archives—there must be records of similar cases, research on magically-induced comas."
Hope flared in Roran's chest, small but stubborn as a storm lantern in gale winds."Alright.I’ll be here if you find anything.”
Luna sighed.“Roran, you should rest.”
