Sylas POV:
The moment Rielun's body touched the water, the sanctuary changed.
The pool glowed brighter, pulsing like a heartbeat. The air thickened, humming with ancient magic. Even the trees leaned inward, their silver leaves trembling as if bracing for a storm.
Sylas knelt at the water's edge, hands hovering over the Oracle's small, fragile form.
He didn't breathe.
He didn't blink.
He just listened — to the forest, to the Hollow, to the magic thrumming beneath the earth.
And then Rielun's body arched.
Light exploded from his chest.
Aeris cried out, stumbling backward. Noctis's shadows flared violently. Rowan grabbed Aeris before he fell into the water.
Sylas's heart slammed against his ribs.
It's starting.
Rielun's veins glowed gold beneath his skin, brightening with every pulse. The water around him boiled with light, rippling outward in frantic waves.
"No— no, no, no—" Aeris whispered, voice cracking. "What's happening to him?"
"He's reacting to the Hollow," Sylas said, forcing his voice to stay steady. "His magic is waking too fast."
Rielun convulsed again, a burst of light shooting upward like a pillar. The sanctuary shook. Moss peeled from the stones. The air crackled with raw power.
Noctis stepped forward, shadows rising like a shield. "Sylas— do something!"
"I'm trying," Sylas snapped, reaching into the water. "But this magic— it's older than anything I've ever touched."
Rielun screamed.
Not aloud — but through the magic. Through the water. Through the forest itself.
The sound tore through Sylas's mind, raw and terrified.
Sylas grabbed Rielun's wrist, grounding him with both hands. The moment he touched him, the forest roared in his ears — roots, leaves, wind, earth, all crying out at once.
A surge of power slammed into him.
Sylas gasped, nearly losing his grip.
Aeris lunged forward. "Let me help—!"
"No!" Sylas barked. "If you touch him now, it'll kill you."
Aeris froze, trembling.
Rielun's glow intensified, blinding. The water rose around him in spiraling columns of light. The sanctuary groaned, ancient stone cracking under the pressure.
Rowan shouted over the roar. "Sylas, he's going to tear this place apart!"
"I know!" Sylas shouted back. "I need— I need guidance— I need—"
"Me."
Elias stepped forward.
His voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
Everyone turned.
Elias's eyes glowed with a strange, fierce light — not magic, but knowledge. Certainty. The weight of a thousand visions.
Noctis snarled. "How do you know what to do? How do you know any of this?"
Elias didn't flinch.
"Because I am a prophet," he said. "I have seen every prophecy tied to him. Every path. Every death. Every rebirth."
Aeris's breath hitched. "Rebirth…?"
Elias nodded, stepping closer to the pool. "Rielun is a teardrop reborn — a soul torn from the Hollow when the moon severed its bond. His future is unstable. Ever‑changing. Every choice you make shifts what he becomes."
Sylas stared at him, stunned. "Why didn't you tell us?"
"Because knowing too much changes the prophecy," Elias said softly. "And because if you failed to reach this sanctuary, none of this would matter."
Rielun convulsed again, light cracking through the water like lightning.
Elias grabbed Sylas's wrist, steadying him. "Listen to me. You can heal him — but only if you tap into the old forest magic. The magic you've never used."
Sylas's breath caught. "I don't know how."
"Yes," Elias said, voice trembling. "You do. It's in your blood. In your bones. In the roots that chose you."
Rielun screamed again — the sound splitting the air, the water, the sanctuary.
Elias tightened his grip.
"Reach for him, Sylas. Reach deeper. Before the Hollow does."
Sylas closed his eyes.
Reached inward.
And felt the forest answer.
Roots surged beneath the water. Leaves spiraled from the canopy. The earth hummed with ancient power, rising to meet him.
He opened his eyes.
They glowed green‑gold.
"Hold him," Sylas said, voice no longer shaking. "All of you. This is going to hurt."
Rielun's power surged—