Magic poured from her fingertips. She knew the power would be intense, but she hadn’t expected it to manifest like this. A splitting hunted through her, searching out every impulse to let go — to consume. The cavern walls began to glow. Looking down, Androulla noticed veins of fire bubbling up from her arms, burning from under her skin. Her eyes milked away to radiant darkness, somehow richer than her ebony complexion. Even with her mind and flesh boiled, the floating numen’s expression remained resolute. The pure amethyst chamber shone synchronously with lavender flames that lashed through and around Androulla’s body. As energy crept to the brim of hundreds of crystals in the egg-like cave, they seemed to melt and gravitate toward her. Soon, a refulgent cocoon swooned around the figure. When the scintillating shell fully encased Androulla, she felt every suffering skirt away and take its brightness with it. Inside the orb, a perfect silence soothed her — spoke to her. Outside, she knew this summoned vessel appeared to have bounds; but within, she saw the underpinnings of an endless night sky reflecting on a still ocean and infinite darkness marred by untouchable starlight. Here, her Stygian skin seemed luminescent as the moon. Everything felt translucent and detached. This was a fragment of eternity, as it used to be. Stepping to the water’s edge, Androulla gazed into the quiet abyss, raised her hand, and grinned. “As above, so below.” The whisper weaved into the frozen water, and a barely noticeable wave fawned atop the inky sea. As it whisked through the infinite black, it grew and grew. In moments, it mounted as a tsunami and gathered unto itself great hoards of water. Androulla watched as the ever-growing surge sprung up as a mountain against crepuscular heavens, pulling the water’s edge back further and further into the deep. As the shoreline detracted, she gently descended over newly naked cliffs and deep into a satiny crevasse. An ambiguous tenebrosity clouded all reference to time — whether Father Time had taken a single step or a million, it did not matter. Androulla plunged down as if in a dream, forgetting to remember even a trace of life before the all-consuming shroud — until she heard what she was seeking, or rather, she felt it. A consistent song thrummed a mellow beat. She was drawn to it as if by a collective will. While an oracular gravity drew her in, she sensed an unkempt harmony forming between her heart and the melodious drumming. Finally, she found herself before a stone shrine. She saw two feminine figures graven into the onyx wall. When Androulla stepped forward, a reticent flicker teased out of both their eyes. Incandescent tattoos emerged from the two sculptures and traipsed over her own body as a primordial pull lead her gleaming hands to their hardened faces…