Adrius felt the moment Tar'Zul-Vekar's roots of light entwined with the Archmages' unstable construct, the suffocating pressure around the spell lattice eased.
The warped air steadied. Symbols that had been flickering and collapsing snapped into alignment, their rotations smoothing into controlled orbits.
Lysander let a breath he had not realized he was holding. His hands trembled slightly as he adjusted the final sigil with awe and relief washing through him in equal measure.
Sylmira's eyes widened as ancient runes she barely understood flowed past her senses, harmonizing with their Magic instead of tearing it apart.
Saeldir the Elf Archmage bowed his head instinctively. His feeling of respect for the ancient forest god cutting through exhaustion as the presence of the god reinforced their work without overpowering it.
"Thank you," Adrius said quietly with sincerity.
