The cold hit her first.Not the cold of winter or ice, but the absolute absence of warmth, of life, of existence itself. Elara’s breath misted in the air as she approached the edge of the Void, each step requiring conscious will to push through the wrongness radiating from the expanding darkness.Behind her, she heard Rowan shouting orders, organising defensive lines, but his voice sounded distant, muffled by the pressure the Void exerted on reality itself.The power in her blood surged violently, recognising its ancient enemy.She stopped ten feet from where the forest ended and nothing began. Up close, the Void was even more terrifying. It did not simply appear black. It was the negation of sight, of light, of the concept of seeing. Looking at it made her eyes ache, her mind rebel against trying to process something that should not exist.Within the darkness, shapes moved. Or perhaps they did not move at all, and her mind invented motion to make sense of the incomprehensible.Whispe
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