The Edge of the World

The transition from the humid, controlled climate of the Conservatory to the raw exposure of the Void Edge was brutal.

They stood on the precipice of the floating island. Below them, there was nothing but a swirling, violet abyss. The Void was not empty space; it was a chaotic storm of raw magic, tearing at the rocky foundations of the Arcanum. Lightning that made no sound arced through the clouds, and the wind screamed like a dying animal.

"The barrier is thinnest here," Kael shouted over the roar of the wind. He pointed to a shimmering distortion in the air about twenty yards out. Beyond that lay the currents that could carry them to the Solid Lands. But between the cliff edge and that slipstream was a chasm of pure destruction.

"We have to build the bridge," Elara shouted back. Her hair whipped around her face, glowing like a halo. The stress of the storm was making her power flair uncontrollably. Her boots were leaving scorched footprints in the rock.

"Focus on me," Kael commanded. He stepped closer, taking her other hand. Now they were locked together, face to face on the edge of the abyss. "You push. I pull. We structure the light into solid matter."

It was a theory they had whispered about in the library stacks, a piece of forbidden magic. Solid light. Hard light. It required an immense generator and an infinite stabilizer.

Elara closed her eyes and let the walls down.

Usually, she spent every waking second holding the dam against the flood. Now, she broke the dam.

A blinding column of white fire erupted from her chest. In any other circumstance, it would have incinerated Kael instantly. But Kael didn't burn. He drank it. Shadows poured from his skin, wrapping around the blinding light, compressing it, shaping it.

* It’s working.*

From the tips of their boots, a translucent, glowing walkway began to manifest, shooting out into the violet storm. It was beautiful—a spear of crystallized sunlight tempered by obsidian shadows.

"Walk!" Kael grunted, the strain already evident in his voice.

They stepped onto the bridge of their own making. It held. The storm battered against it, but the mixture of their opposing magics created a resonance frequency that repelled the chaos.

They moved ten yards out. Twenty. The Arcanum was disappearing into the mist behind them. The feeling was indescribable. Elara felt lighter than she ever had in her life. The pain of her heat was gone, siphoned away into Kael’s waiting darkness. For the first time, she wasn't a monster. She was half of a miracle.

"We’re going to make it," she laughed, the sound hysterical and bright. The euphoria of the magic was rushing to her head like wine. "Kael, look! We’re actually doing it!"

But Kael didn't answer.