Gwendolyn drew in a deep breath, formed a seal with both hands, then slowly raised them, palms facing upward.

The two strands of white light rose with her motion, stopping three feet above the stone dais.

Her hands moved gently through the air, her ten fingers flowing like they were playing a silent melody—each movement precise to its limit.

The golden patterns along the cave walls began to glow, responding to the light in Gwendolyn’s palms from afar.

Ancient runes peeled away from the stone and transformed into spinning golden symbols. They drifted through the air before sinking, one by one, into the two strands of white light.

With each symbol absorbed, the strands grew more solid, their glow steadily intensifying.

Jared could feel it clearly. The remnant souls of Sidney and his wife were becoming more complete—more real—with every passing moment.