Palaïós was drawing ancient runes accompanied by a gigantic star. The chalk he used screeched against the stone slabs. Astós leaned against a wall, tirelessly rolling a marble between his long, cold fingers. He had regained enough energy since the confrontation to maybe bring back his mother. Korè and Maximus were chatting a bit further away. Sklerótes, in her young woman form, was sitting against the gate.

"Is it going to take much longer?" she asked impatiently. "We've been here for six hours already."

Palaïós said nothing and continued drawing his indescribable and indecipherable runes. Sklerótes saw a cockroach pass in front of her eyes, and a moment later, it was crushed in her mouth. The prince looked at her with disgust.

"I was hungry," she managed to justify between two jaw snaps.

"Still, it's really disgusting..."

This comment did not deter the Dnophos from helping herself to one or two more.

Several dozen minutes and a few more cockroaches later, Palaïós stood up with a frightening creak, raised his chalk to the sky, and emitted strange howls.

No one understood what was happening; everyone in the room looked at each other with eyes that reflected their confusion. Finally, he stopped. Everyone held their breath, unsure of what to expect from the old sorcerer. He was breathing heavily and with difficulty.

"It's done, I've finished, we can start."

Everyone looked up at the old man, ready to begin.

The friends all struggled to get up, numb from the time spent inactive. Sklerótes was the first to ask for instructions.

"Where should we stand?" she asked.

He pointed to the branch farthest from him.

"Right there, Sklerótes," he ordered. "Here," he designated another branch, "Astós. The others, position yourselves on either side of the star."

Everyone complied.

"Sklerótes, I need Anastasis, please," he added.

The Dnophos precisely threw him the necklace containing her little sister's ashes. Palaïós caught it by slightly bending his knees and lowering himself. He opened it and placed it in the center of the star. He drew a few more runes around the jewel and mumbled an incomprehensible litany of spells. Astós was panicked, excited, and very anxious.

The sorcerer stepped backward toward his branch and spread his arms so that everyone could hold hands. His friends imitated him, and soon, everyone, even Kyneos, held each other's hands tightly.

At the same moment a shiver ran through the group, all the candles in the room, previously lit by the sorcerer, went out together.

Palaïós, very focused, did not take his eyes off the center of the star. The group did not think it was wise to distract him.

He continued chanting intelligible words. Suddenly, a light rose from the star's contours. The friends all wanted to step back, frightened, but no one moved, fearing to ruin everything.

The medallion containing the ashes had been opened by Palaïós earlier. Its contents rose into the air and swirled. The sorcerer did not stop murmuring. The tumult of the swirling air was deafening in the ears of the Heirs.

Each of them felt the power of the old man, and their hands slowly unclenched from each other. They were losing energy, as expected. However, what was not expected was how quickly it was happening.

After barely three minutes, Astós already felt his eyelids getting heavy. Palaïós must have sensed the group's lack of vitality and shook Korè, who was closest to him. He whispered something to her between incantations, but the group did not hear these murmurs. Nevertheless, the young girl began to jump laboriously in place and then spoke, trying to communicate through the tumult of the air. She said:

"To all those who can hear me; do as I do, jump, don't let fatigue overwhelm you. If you lose consciousness, it's over, we will have failed, and we won't be able to try this again for a long time."

She looked at Astós and then at Endiàthetos.

"Do it for them, even if it's hard. Come on, jump!"

The group passed the message along, and everyone started jumping in place. Palaïós still did not move, his eyes fixed in the middle of the star, where a human-sized form was rising. The pendant sparkled at its center.

He continued murmuring.

They all continued for more than three-quarters of an hour.

They were now exhausted, but the old sorcerer, who had stopped murmuring, encouraged them:

"Come on, my children, you can do it, the procedure is almost complete, just hold on a little longer."

So, exhausted, they continued shifting from one foot to the other, trying to be as little static as possible.

But not everyone had the same endurance. Not even five minutes later, Astós stopped moving and looked at Sklerótes to his right.

His vision was blurring, and his eyes filled with tears; he was in terrible pain. Fatigue overtook him, and it was increasingly difficult not to fall unconscious. He opened his mouth to shout something to his aunt, but only a low groan came out. When he tried again, he felt his world tilt, then felt himself hit the ground hard.

His friends did not hesitate for a second and rushed to his aid, alarmed by his sudden fall. Sklerótes placed him in the recovery position, repeatedly saying his name, shaking his limbs, and hitting him. The others called him from his sides.

No one paid attention to the spell anymore. Even Kyneos stood behind the group, waiting for news of the prince. Astós' eyelashes fluttered slightly, and everyone could finally breathe again. He opened his eyes again after painful minutes and tried to adjust to the room's light, even though it was not very bright.

Korè immediately took the prince in her arms before gently pushing him away and shouting at him.

"Astós, don't scare us like that! Next time, warn us before collapsing during a spell," she said, then widened her eyes.

"The spell," murmured Maximus.

Astós buried his face in his hands, tears streaming down his cheeks already shaken by sobs.

"I ruined everything... It's my fault, the spell failed, it's all my fault. Why does everything always go wrong when I'm around?!"

"We'll try again as soon as possible, Astós, I promise. Don't worry, we'll get there eventually. You just weren't ready, that's all," Sklerótes reassured him. "Isn't that right, Palaïós?"

The old man nodded, but Astós didn't stop crying.

"Maybe, but you all had to endure this ordeal for nothing. Now, we're all tired, and nothing happened. We could have seen her today. I've had enough!"

Tears flowed down several faces, out of sadness, compassion, or pain. The whole group stared at the ground, looking guilty.

Astós and his friends still had their backs to the star when another voice filled the room, startling them.

"Um, excuse me, but can I know what's going on?"

The group turned around and saw a silhouette surrounded by mist asking:

"Sklerótes? Is that you?"

Sklerótes scrutinized the person's face a bit longer as the white veil dissipated around it.

"Anastasis!" she cried.

---

NDA: Thank you for reading! I proudly announce that this chapter is the second to last of this novel. If all goes well, the final chapter should be out next week along with the acknowledgments.

During the holidays, I will be working on rewriting and editing this work!

I'm quite proud of it, as it's my first completed novel!

In the meantime, I invite you to read other works on my account and to subscribe to stay updated on this book's progress.

Have a good day/night!

Kisses!