The purest form of power, existing since the dawn of time. It had no will of its own, no sense of good and evil, just a mass of sheer power—until it overflowed like a river led astray from the Abyss to rain down all across Pywel in the form of Artifacts. The wordly desires of those who came into contact with its fragmented power seeped back into the Abyss, and it believed them to be the true reflection of the world.
