The world seemed to hold its breath as Elara stood in the center of the ritual circle, the Aetherstone blazing with an intensity that defied comprehension. The air around her crackled with energy, the power of the Source flowing through her in waves that threatened to overwhelm her very being. But she held on, every fiber of her being focused on the task at hand—protecting the Source, no matter the cost.
Morgana's chanting grew louder, the ancient words resonating with the power that filled the glade. The ground beneath them shuddered, the earth itself responding to the ritual's power. The others stood on the edge of the circle, their faces set with determination, their eyes locked on Elara. They could feel the immense pressure building within the Aetherstone, a pressure that could either save them or destroy everything.