The eyes of man, though he was still human, though he had traveled the Path of Knowledge, could not see much — it was not in their nature to see beyond certain limits, so it was no wonder that this place seemed empty and dark to a mortal. Oh, how many shades and colors are here! How many different sounds and hues!
But never can a mortal see, hear, feel any of this; not even every god, or those who consider themselves such, can boast the ability to normally perceive the Silence — the space between the worlds, the place-space-quality in which incongruous laws are woven and combined. Each world-star is to some extent influenced by this place and influenced by it — they all influence each other, creating a unique, beautiful chaos — a riot of diametric opposites and perfect incompatibilities.
Chaos is also beautiful because everything begins with it and everything ends up in it. But Chaos — it gives birth and destroys, sometimes — rebirths, but only that, and here is Silence — it is an interweaving of eternal growth-progress-withdrawal-regression, in it you can read, if you know how, of course, an infinite number of stories and plots, see the present, future and past, recognize the whole chain from Alpha to Omega. But again, not every god is capable of this, and the demons — even separate entities — are too greedy demons for power and power, and therefore destroy each other at every opportunity.
Literally a few steps away from the man, in the middle of the Silence or the Void — as this place is called in some worlds — froze the figure of a majestic, indescribably beautiful, perfect woman in dark clothes and with a high and wide crown on her head. Snow-white skin, inhuman eyes that reflected all her essence and power, a generous, indulgent smile on delightful lips.
She saw the mortal literally wringing his hands, giving up the last drops of magic to save himself, she saw him mindlessly absorbing magic not meant for humans, and the first signs of future change were already visible. The woman saw how his stupid mistake in the process of reworking a curious, but not too curious, artifact almost put an end to this mortal's salvation: and it was a tiny mistake — a spontaneous blocking of the artifact's mental protection module, which in principle would not have been so fatal if this mortal had not been in the Silence.
But here, the impact on the artifact was extraordinary, and the damaged module was significantly overloaded. The mage himself was literally paralyzed by the powerful mental influence of one of the witches of the Silence, who unknowingly performed a ritual at the heart, and one day the Silence responded — now.
The beautiful woman was well able to distinguish the shades of the Silence, and so she clearly saw how the ancient defenses of the world from which the mortal had come literally closed the breach before her eyes, healing the wound, with the help of another, of course, and the mage literally jumped in a desperate dash into the sphere of distortion through which even she could not see.
The absolute darkness curved into a perfect ball, squeezed and unclenched several times, as if swallowing a new victim, and began to smooth out — in a few seconds there was not even a trace left, the world had closed again, and it would be impossible to find it without a beacon. For a moment, the undead woman stared at the spot where the mortal had disappeared, then approached the glittering crystal artifact. For a few moments, she studied the pulsating star, firmly bound by a multitude of threads. Something about the light appealed to her.
The woman simply reached out her graceful hand and took the artifact, bringing it close to her face, an old habit of studying her favorite trinket up close. She didn't care how tightly the artifact was secured, or how much strength it would take to break the ropes. She just wanted the trinket, and she saw no reason why she shouldn't touch it. But she was curious: had the mortal returned home?