The snow elf's crystalline hand hovered above Thar's chest, frost already forming into a lethal point. One thrust would end it. The cold radiating from the pale figure was absolute, freezing the blood in Thar's veins even before contact. He could not move. He could not breathe properly. The fight had been decided the moment the elf stepped out of the tear.
Then the tear behind the snow elf wavered.
The stable, wide rupture that had allowed the frost being to cross began to shimmer violently at the edges. The clean vertical scar in reality buckled inward, light and space folding on themselves in erratic pulses. A low, grinding sound filled the air—like stone being crushed under immense pressure. The tear was not simply destabilizing. It was being forced shut.
