Lyan took a deep breath, his eyes meeting Griselda's for a moment before he focused on the Duke. The cell's dim light seemed to flicker as he began to chant, his voice low and melodic, resonating with an ancient power. The air around them thickened, charged with energy, as glowing symbols started to appear, swirling around Lyan's hands. The incantation grew louder, and the symbols formed intricate patterns, creating a magical circle that enveloped them.
"Memoriae Tenebrae, Ostende Nobis Veritatem," Lyan intoned, his voice echoing off the stone walls.
The Duke, still unconscious, began to tremble, his body responding to the pull of Lyan's magic. The air inside the cell grew colder, and the glow of the magic circle intensified, casting an eerie light over their faces. Griselda watched in silence, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for what Lyan's spell would bring her.
