The glowing chains that bound Rivan pulsed rhythmically, their light almost hypnotic. Aarav knelt beside his old friend, eyes scanning the intricate runes etched along the bands—ancient seals powered by forgotten magic.
"These aren't ordinary bindings," Ishira said, stepping closer with a furrowed brow. "They feed on the energy of the Rings. Breaking them requires precise counter-mantras and the full strength of your combined power."
Aarav closed his eyes and focused inward, feeling the weight of the four Rings against his skin. Slowly, he began chanting the counter-mantra—words of undoing, woven with humility and courage.
The chains flared violently, reacting to the intrusion. Rivan's eyes fluttered open, a faint glimmer of recognition shining through the haze.
"Stay with me," Aarav urged, voice steady despite the crackling tension.
The runes on the chains began to crack, fissures spreading like lightning. But the seals fought back, causing tremors in the chamber.
Vayara stepped forward, sword glowing, ready to defend. Luan's whispered spells intensified, weaving a protective barrier around Aarav.
Minutes stretched into agonizing hours as Aarav's voice never faltered, pouring every ounce of energy into the ritual.
Finally, with a blinding burst of light, the chains shattered, falling away in fragments of shimmering dust.
Rivan gasped, drawing a shaky breath. His eyes cleared, and he smiled faintly.
"You came for me," he said, voice hoarse but strong.
Aarav smiled back, relief washing over him. "We're not done yet. There's more to uncover — and the shadows are still deep."