Directing the void is a fool's errand," Velagrew said softly.
"Even you know that."
Behind him, a slick spine of obsidian tore through the shadows pooling at his feet.
Inky darkness clung to it, slowly coalescing into hollow throne.
A faint shiver of light pinched the air in front of him weaving the light into translucent white porcelain.
Ribbons of liquid gold pooled along the rim of the porcelain, setting into delicate, floral filigree as the teacup materialized, hovering seamlessly before settling into his waiting fingers even as he sat down on the nebulous throne.
"Perhaps," Alsterius conceded, stepping forward.
With each step he took, the brilliant light around him gently pushed back against the inky black boundary of Velagrew's encroaching shadows.
Velagrew spared him cursory glance.
"And yet, strange ripples cross the boundaries of late."
He paused awhile, somberly staring at the Lord of the Realm Between.
"I hear you've acquired another one of mine."
