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A horizon of endless night stretched before her, the dark sea rippling in silence.
Cheska crouched, pressing a hesitant finger against the surface of the water beneath her feet. The liquid held firm, smooth as glass yet yielding like silk. The sensation sent a shiver through her spine.
What is this place?
"This is the center of the world," a soft voice murmured behind her.
Cheska turned.
A woman stood there, her skin a warm shade of olive, her long orange braid cascading into the water like liquid fire. Despite her gentle expression, something about her presence felt unshakably vast—like the steady pull of the tide, calm yet impossible to resist.
Cheska stepped back on instinct—only to bump into something. Someone.
"Careful," a second voice warned, smooth yet firm. "Your soul is weak right now. Stay calm, or you'll unravel."
She whirled around.
