Lucian's POVNothing worked.I sat on the edge of the bed, Elara's cold hand in mine, and watched Gwen and Gaius move around the room like ghosts. Herbs were ground. Potions were mixed. Incantations were whispered. The air smelled of sage and something bitter, something that made my eyes water.Nothing worked.Gwen pressed his palms to her temples. The runes on his staff glowed faintly, then dimmed. He shook his head."The potion is deeply woven," he said. "Her mind is fighting, but the magic is old. Strong.""Try again," I said."I have tried. The ritual requires her participation. She must want to wake. She must choose to fight." He stepped back from the bed. "I cannot force her."I looked at Elara. Her face was pale, peaceful, her white hair spread across the pillow. She looked like she was sleeping. Like she would wake at any moment, stretch, smile, ask for tea.But she did not wake.Gaius approached with a small vial of dark liquid. He tipped it to her lips. She swallowed reflexi
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