"I see it... Now, to stabilize and smooth it out..."
She began to softly chant the syllables of an ancient and obscure Spell. The violet light from her fingertips no longer flowed into the crystal.
Instead, like a conductor, she began to guide the Energy flowing through the array, weaving it with the Spell into countless "tendrils of light" finer than a strand of hair. These tendrils gently reached toward the crease in his soul.
The initial contact was a strange, tingling itch, as if countless, impossibly soft feathers were brushing against the most sensitive part of his soul.
But as the "tendrils" began to delve deeper into the crease, attempting to "comb" and "iron" it out, the sensation changed abruptly.
A sharp pain flared up, as if his soul was being torn apart and then forcefully glued back together.
This agony wasn't physical. It acted directly on his very being, penetrating deeper than any physical wound, straight to the core of his consciousness.
