Sylas cut through the forest of gold with all the speed he could muster. His telekinesis wrapped around his body, his feet leaving deep trenches every time he stepped onto the soft soil.
Even as he ran, he wasn't sure if he even had a solution to make use of. He had been by that pillar before, and there was a very good reason he didn't try to investigate it further.
He couldn't.
The Aether was too volatile. It would have shredded him apart the moment he tried to touch it.
Sylas had been in many dangerous situations before, all sorts of environments that wanted nothing more than to see him dead. Pits of lava, chilling cold blizzards, even storms of lightning recently. But none had ever filled him with as much a sense of danger as that pillar of light.
It was like its very presence was there solely to tell him that he was inferior, that it was beyond his means to deal with.
