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A scar, blight upon the threads. A universe of magic consumed. A singular thread, bond unbreakable.
Intricately laid and too powerful to rend, the curse consumed the threads of The Weave. Scars formed in its wake, an ever expanding tempest of chaos and wild aether reaping destruction as the dark magic slowly stretched across the expanse of the universe. It could sense its master’s scrutinizing gaze, fed off the wicked satisfaction of his energy as its insatiable hunger became ravenous purpose.
The curse latched unto the Lovers’ bond, raking and clawing at the thread. But try as it might, the thread could not be severed. The curse’s fury pulsed through The Weave as it realized that the onslaught was useless, and in its rage it thrust the sorcerer and sorceress into the farthest reaching corners of its scar, there to waste away in despair and isolation. But all was not lost, for in that moment The Weave poured the vast hopes of the universe into an ancient power, far beyond the realms of fate or magic.