Without any conscious thought, his body began to move toward the pillar, one step after another. There was a silver walkway in front of him that was linked to the pillar, perhaps fifty paces across, but every step felt like crossing a battlefield.
This silver walkway seemed to have emerged from the presence of this pillar, and the air around this small area was thick; that was the only word Elias could use to describe it. The air hummed with latent power, and each breath he took tasted of metal and ozone and something older than either.
It was as if he were walking not just towards a piece of Divinity, but towards something alive that had bled in the past. He reached the basin, and the liquid light inside it rippled as he approached, as though it recognized him.
Every Fragment was unique to an Angel, and so he was born to be here. This knowledge came to him as easily as breathing.
