Nyx stood at the edge of the lake, its surface still like a polished onyx under the twilight canopy. Exhaustion weighted her limbs, but necessity sharpened her focus. She raised her hands, mana swirling around her fingers like liquid shadow tinged with starlight. The air hummed as she channeled her energy, the remnants of her divine power flickering like a guttering candle.
She turned to a cluster of slender Eldertrees nearby, their bark silvered and smooth. With a sweep of her arm, mana lashed out like a whip, severing trunks at their bases.
Telekinesis guided the fallen timber—no ordinary wood, but ancient material threaded with faint bioluminescent veins—to hover midair. Her hands carved precise motions, and the logs split into planks, beams, and posts, their edges glowing faintly where her mana had cut them.
