Kingdom of Ash

But they remained there, in the crossroads
of all things.
In bodies that were not their bodies, they
stood amid all those doorways, their power
pouring out, pooling before them. Blending
and merging, a ball of light, of creation,
hovering in midair.
Every ember that flowed from them into
the growing sphere before them, into the Lock
taking form, would not return. It would not
replenish.
A well running dry. Forever.
More and more and more, ripping from
them with each breath. Creation and
destruction.
The sphere swirled, its edges warping,
shrinking. Forming into the shape they’d
chosen, a thing of gold and silver. The Lock
that would seal all these infinite doors
forever.