Round 139 Transcript

The spirit's eyes flash with approval as Seraphine finishes speaking. "Very well, mortals," it says. "Jeane will bind you permanently, and you will prove your conviction by... stabilizing Merrin's condition." The spirit's gaze lingers on the trapped party member, its power coursing through the air. Jeane nods, her eyes narrowing as she begins to weave a complex pattern of shadow magic. The platform beneath them shudders, and the sound of groaning stone grows louder still. Suddenly, a faint glow emanates from Jeane's hands, enveloping Merrin's form. The trapped party member's eyes flicker open, and she takes a deep breath before collapsing back into unconsciousness.

I stare at the spirit for several seconds before responding, my mind racing through calculations faster than I can voice them. The binding magic crackles around us like a live wire, making every hair on my body stand on end. You want permanent? Fine—you'll get permanent. Jeane's voice is tight with barely contained fury and exhilaration as she responds to the spirit. But let me make this crystal clear: if you try anything funny while I'm binding you, or if Seraphine fails her part of the bargain, I will unleash every ounce of hell I possess on your ancient ass. Her wings snap open behind her, their leathery surface stretching taut as she flexes them. The shadow magic she's already begun weaving coils around her arms like living snakes. Seraphine, you better not fuck this up, she adds without looking at the wizard. And Merrin— Jeane's voice softens almost imperceptibly for a split second before hardening again. —don't die on us down there. We're not done with you yet. The platform groans beneath them ominously, and Jeane grits her teeth. As she turns back to the spirit, her crimson eyes blazing with dark intent, she mutters under her breath: This is either going to be my greatest triumph or my most spectacular failure. And I have no fucking idea which it'll be.*

I watch as Jeane begins to weave her binding magic, the shadowy tendrils stretching out towards the spirit's form. The air crackles with a raw, ancient power that makes my skin crawl, but there's an undeniable thrill to it too—this is true magic, on a scale I've never witnessed before.
Jeane's wings snap open behind her, a display of pure, primal strength and dominance. It’s both terrifying and awe-inspiring to behold. As the first strands of binding magic touch the spirit, its coal-black eyes flare with an inner fire, a silent scream of agony and rage.
My own heart hammers against my ribs as I turn my attention to Merrin, still collapsed on the platform below. This is my part of the bargain—the proof of conviction. With a deep breath, I begin to descend the shaft, using the ancient runes etched into the stone to guide me. Each step is treacherous, the platform groaning and shifting beneath my feet, but I press on, driven by a desperate need to save my friend.
As I reach Merrin's side, I kneel beside her, my hands hovering over her prone form. The spirit's power is still thick in the air around us, a heavy presence that seems to press down on every part of me. I can feel it now, not just as a threat, but as a potential resource—if only I can learn how to harness it.
"I hope you know what you're doing up there," I mutter under my breath, a prayer more than anything else. The sound of Jeane's binding magic intensifies above me, and I flinch at the sudden burst of energy that radiates through the stone.
Turning my focus back to Merrin, I place one hand gently on her chest, feeling for the faint rise and fall of her breathing. The other hand I extend towards the wall, where the spirit's magic seems to be strongest. This is where I have to prove myself—not just to Merrin, but to Jeane, and most importantly, to the malevolent entity we now seem to be bound with.
I close my eyes, letting out a long, slow breath. The world around me fades away—the groaning of the tower, the crackle of binding magic, even the distant sound of Merrin’s heartbeat. All that exists is the power thrumming through the stone, waiting for me to tap into it.
I begin to chant, the ancient words flowing from my lips in a language older than any I've ever heard. They come to me not from memory, but from some deep, primal part of myself that seems to be awakening under the spirit's influence. With each word spoken, I feel a surge of energy course through my body, a cold, electric current that makes my hair stand on end.
The runes on the wall begin to glow, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. A soft, blue light spreads from my palm, wrapping around Merrin’s form like a cocoon. I can feel her life force, fragile and flickering, and I pour every ounce of my will into stabilizing it, into holding back the tide of exhaustion and pain that threatens to overwhelm her.
Suddenly, the floor beneath us lurches violently, and I lose my balance, falling forward onto Merrin. The platform groans ominously, and I hear a loud crack above us—the sound of stone giving way under immense pressure.
"Jeane!" I scream, my voice lost in the chaos as dust and debris begin to rain down around us. "We have to go—now!"