She reached toward it again. Not with sight but the deeper sense of her Spiritual Energy. The hidden current that ran beneath the visible world.
She brushed the boundary with it.
And paused.
The energy on the other side was Spiritual Energy the way an ocean was water — technically accurate yet fundamentally insulting as a description.
Denser than anything she had ever touched. Older too but structured in patterns that predated language, predated thought and the very concept of being deciphered that made her own power feel like a child's finger painting next to a cathedral.
'No.'
No, she corrected herself — and she corrected herself rarely — this was not Spiritual Energy. Not the kind she manipulated with casual elegance wielded like a favorite toy.
This was something higher... a very refined order of the same substance, sitting several terrifying rungs above anything she had yet been permitted to touch.
The raw silk from which gods stitched their robes.
