Frodo accepted the glass phial and stared at the pure, holy light shimmering within. The moment its glow touched him, a wave of comfort washed over both body and mind.
The pressure, the silent, creeping dread the Ring always pressed onto his spirit, eased at once.
His heart lifted with hope.
'So this is truly the Light of Eärendil…'
"Thank you, Sylas," Frodo said earnestly.
He tucked the phial carefully into his dragonhide space pouch, placing it right beside the silver box containing the One Ring. With this additional protection, the Ring's influence weakened even further. As long as he kept his distance, Frodo knew its whispers would be manageable, and more importantly, it would not harm others nearby.
But Sylas wasn't finished.
He produced a second bottl, this one filled with a dark, viscous green liquid that faintly glimmered under the Room's light.
"Take out the Ring's box," Sylas instructed. "Then pour this in. Let the Ring soak in it. But be careful, don't touch the liquid."
Frodo blinked, confused, but obeyed.
He retrieved the silver box and opened it.
Immediately, the Ring's power surged outward, its allure sweeping through the room like a silent storm, trying to hook itself into every mind present.
But Sylas and Gandalf were ready.
Sylas's advanced Occlumency fortress locked down instantly, sealing away the Ring's influence.
Gandalf resisted through sheer spiritual strength, unmoved.And Frodo, blessed with the peculiar resistance of hobbits, felt only a faint pull.
The three stood firm, untouched by its whispers.
Sylas handed Frodo the bottle.
Frodo tilted it, pouring the dark green liquid into the box.
The substance oozed out slowly, thick, viscous, and giving off a faintly fishy, acrid smell that made Frodo wrinkle his nose. But as soon as the liquid touched the One Ring, something astonishing happened:
The Ring's pull vanished.
Completely.
The dark green liquid reacted violently, boiling and roiling around the Ring, hissing like water poured over burning metal. Bubbles surged upward, and faint tendrils of dark vapor rose from the mixture as if the liquid were burning away the Ring's spiritual influence.
It was like throwing a piece of red-hot metal into water .
"Good. Frodo, seal the box," Sylas urged.
Frodo immediately shut the lid. Once closed, the silver box became perfectly inert again; not a sound, not a shimmer of green showed through.
Astonished, he looked up.
"What was that liquid? It completely wiped out the Ring's pull!"
Sylas smiled.
"That was a refined derivative of Basilisk venom. One of the strongest corrosive forces in the world. It cannot destroy the One Ring, of course, but soaking it in the venom suppresses its darkness. Think of it as fighting poison with poison."
Frodo brightened with hope.
"So… if we just keep the Ring submerged, I won't have to fear its corruption anymore?"
Sylas shook his head.
"I'm afraid not. The Ring's power is endless. Imagine taking a red-hot iron and dropping it in water, it cools for a moment, but a true furnace will boil away the water entirely. The Ring is that furnace."
He sighed.
"The venom will hold for a while. But eventually it will evaporate, lose potency, and the Ring's influence will return."
Frodo's excitement dimmed, but he nodded solemnly.
Sylas added, "Don't worry, I'll prepare additional Basilisk venom for your journey to Mordor. Change it regularly, and you'll weaken the Ring's hold as much as possible."
"Thank you, Sylas," Frodo said gratefully. Even a small measure of relief mattered; the Ring weighed heavily upon him, mind and body both.
"Oh, one more thing."
Sylas rummaged through his robe and produced a small crystal vial filled with perfectly clear liquid.
Frodo tilted his head, puzzled.
"What is this?"
"Phoenix Tears," Sylas replied. "They cure most poisons and grievous wounds. Basilisk venom is almost impossible to neutralize, but Phoenix Tears can. They can also heal dark magic injuries. Even if a Morgul blade pierces you, as long as there is a breath left in your body, these tears can pull you back from death."
His voice softened.
"I hope you never have to use them."
Frodo nearly dropped the vial.
"Phoenix… tears? These are yours?"
The realization startled him, he had forgotten that Sylas could transform into a phoenix. To think that such tears could save a dying man, it was beyond miraculous.
Gandalf chuckled.
"You're fortunate, Frodo. A single drop of Phoenix Tears is worth more than all the medicines in Middle-earth. Even if you were halfway through the gates of Mandos, this could call you back."
After handing over the last item, the three left the Room of Requirement.
Frodo watched as the silver-inlaid door faded out of existence, blending seamlessly back into the wall. Even after days in Hogwarts, the magic of this place still amazed him.
Yet, a question nagged at him.
That room held treasures so great Gandalf joked each item was worth more than all the hoards of dragon-kind. Frodo had inherited Bilbo's considerable wealth, including the mithril shirt capable of buying the entire Shire, and even that paled next to what Sylas kept hidden away.
If the dragon Smaug once slept atop mountains of treasure, Hogwarts' vault held enough to bury the dragon entirely.
And all of that, just sitting inside the Room of Requirement?
Shouldn't Sylas be worried someone else might stumble upon it?
Frodo bit back the question.
Sylas, unaware of Frodo's concerns, would only have laughed.The Room of Requirement he crafted was no mere Hogwarts oddity; it was a personal pocket dimension bound to his soul. No spell, key, or password could grant entry without Sylas's consent. Even if someone discovered the outer Room, the inner vault chamber would remain sealed.
No thief in Middle-earth could breach it.
With the Ring's immediate danger temporarily suppressed, Frodo went to reunite with Sam, Merry, and Pippin.
Meanwhile, Sylas and Gandalf began preparations to depart for Rivendell, the valley where the Council soon would decide the fate of the One Ring.
...
Stones Plzz
Read chapters ahead @keepsmiling 818 p@reon