Finland trudged through the snow, his breath visible in the frosty air. Beside him, his younger brother Iceland moved with quiet determination, the cold lending an ethereal glow to his white hair. "We must hurry," Finland urged, his voice soft yet resolute, "Before Norway's magic consumes them completely."

Norway, now a figure of shadow and power, stood at the edge of the fjord. His expression was as unreadable as the depths of the sea. Sweden and Denmark flanked him, their eyes vacant, their movements robotic. "They are mine to command," Norway murmured, his voice a mere breath against the howling wind.

Iceland paused, his eyes scanning the runes etched into the bark. "These symbols," he whispered, "They speak of a counterspell." Finland nodded, his purple eyes reflecting both hope and fear. "Then we must act quickly. We cannot fail them."

Finland and Iceland stood united, their voices rising in harmony against Norway's spell. As their words crescendoed, a brilliant light enveloped Sweden and Denmark, breaking the chains of enchantment. "What... happened?" Denmark stammered, confusion giving way to relief.

Norway watched as his former allies regained their senses, the realization of his actions weighing heavily upon him. Iceland stepped forward, his voice gentle yet firm. "You are our brother, Norway. Let not the darkness consume you further."

Norway nodded, the storm within him subsiding. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice carrying the weight of remorse and the hope for redemption. Together, the five stood beneath the rising sun, united once more, ready to face whatever lay ahead.