Hours had passed since they began their work, their hands moving with a practiced rhythm as they mended the delicate threads in the Weaver's domain. The cavern was silent, save for the faint hum of energy surrounding them, the threads of light and shadow pulsating gently in their hands. Yet, as Kael worked, he couldn't shake a growing sense of foreboding, as if the very air was thickening with an unseen tension.
Morgana's voice broke through his thoughts, her tone strained but steady. "I can feel something… resisting us. It's like the threads themselves are pulling against what we're trying to do."
Kael nodded, his gaze focused on the shimmering lines in his grasp. Each thread seemed to pulse with a life of its own, an energy that responded to their touch yet resisted it at the same time. It was as if the very essence of the Weaver resented their interference, and yet, paradoxically, needed it.