Sylas's POV:
The spiraling columns of water twisted around them, glowing gold and white as they spun higher, pulling the sanctuary into their orbit. The air vibrated with ancient power, thick enough to taste, heavy enough to crush.
Sylas held Rielun steady, both hands pressed to the boy's chest as the old forest magic coursed through him like a second heartbeat.
The forest was awake now.
And it was watching.
Roots coiled beneath the water, anchoring Rielun's trembling body. Leaves drifted from the canopy in slow, glowing spirals. The earth hummed beneath Sylas's knees, rising to meet him with every breath.
He could feel Rielun's magic fighting — not against him, but against the Hollow clawing at the edges of the sanctuary.
"He's slipping," Sylas said, voice low, strained. "The Hollow is trying to pull him out."
Elias stepped closer, eyes blazing with prophecy-light. "Then we begin. Now."
Aeris tightened his grip on Rielun's shoulders, tears streaking down his face.
Noctis's shadows wrapped around them both, bracing them.
Rowan steadied Aeris with a firm hand.
Sylas drew in a breath, letting the forest fill his lungs.
"Tell me what to do."
Elias lifted his hands, voice resonant and trembling with urgency.
"Hear the prophecy as it unfolds."
The sanctuary stilled.
Even the spiraling water paused, suspended mid‑air.
"The teardrop reborn stands at the edge of unraveling.
The Hollow reaches for what was once its own.
Only the forest's chosen can bind the breaking light.
Only the prophet can speak the path between life and loss."
Rielun's body jerked, light cracking beneath his skin like lightning.
Aeris sobbed. "Sylas—!"
"I've got him," Sylas said, though his arms shook with the effort.
Elias knelt beside him, placing both hands on Sylas's back. "Let the forest flow through you. Not around you. Not beneath you. Through you."
Sylas closed his eyes.
And the forest answered.
Not gently.
Not softly.
But with the force of a world that had been waiting centuries for this moment.
The old magic surged up from the roots, through the water, through the earth, through Sylas's bones. It roared through him like a storm of leaves and wind and ancient memory.
He gasped as the power filled him — not overwhelming, but claiming.
Not consuming, but completing.
He opened his eyes.
Green‑gold light blazed from them, brighter than before, deeper than before — the color of ancient forests untouched by time.
Aeris gasped.
Noctis stepped back.
Rowan whispered, "Gods…"
Elias's voice trembled with awe. "You've awakened the forest's heart."
Sylas felt it — the pulse of the Hollow's roots, the breath of the trees, the memory of the earth. It wasn't just magic. It was a living force, older than the moon, older than the Hollow, older than the guardians themselves.
And it recognized Rielun.
It reached for him.
Rielun convulsed, the spiraling water columns shattering into droplets of light that hovered like stars.
Elias's voice sharpened.
"Sylas — bind the light!"
Sylas pressed both hands to Rielun's chest, channeling the full force of the forest's heart.
Roots surged from the water, wrapping Rielun in a cradle of living wood.
Light cracked through the sanctuary, illuminating every stone.
The earth trembled beneath them, rising to meet Sylas's call.
The forest's magic poured through him, into Rielun, weaving itself around the boy's breaking light.
Sylas leaned over him, voice steady and resonant.
"I've got you," he whispered. "I won't let you fall."
The ritual truly began.