Page 48 of Court of Twisted Angels

KYRIE

Istand before the ornate mirror, its enchanted surface shifting and rippling like liquid mercury. The reflection shows a stranger draped in ceremonial silks that catch the dawn light streaming through the crystal windows. Precious gems and metallic threads weave through the fabric, forming ancient runes that pulse with protective magic. The deep blue material flows like water, creating patterns that remind me of wind currents and storm clouds.

My auburn hair has been intricately braided with strands of enchanted silver, tiny crystals woven throughout that harmonize with my conduit's energy. They chime softly with each movement, a melody of power and possibility. The jagged scar that curves around my neck seems less harsh now, transformed by the ceremonial markings painted across my skin in shimmering gold ink.

Enchanted cosmetics highlight my features in ways no ordinary pigments could - my green eyes now seem to hold actual starlight, and my skin glows with an ethereal luminescence. The effect is both beautiful and unsettling, as though I'm already becoming something more than human.

The chamber itself adds to the otherworldly atmosphere. Floating orbs of light drift around me like curious spirits, their glow reflecting off the polished marble floors. Incense burns in ancient braziers, the smoke forming shapes of wings before dissolving into the air. Through the arched windows, I can see the ceremonial spires reaching toward the dawn sky, their crystalline surfaces already humming with gathered power.

My fingers trace the conduit wrapped around my palm, its familiar metal warm against my skin. Soon I won't need it. The thought makes my stomach twist, but I force myself to stand straight. The girl who once stole scraps from the market seems like a distant memory now, replaced by this creature of silk and starlight who stands on the brink of transformation.

A bell tolls somewhere in the citadel, its deep resonance making the magical artifacts in the room vibrate in sympathy. It's time. I take one last look at my reflection - at this version of myself that exists in the space between human and xaphan, between past and future.

Then the doors open behind me, and I turn to see Azrael. "You ready?"

I nod and he walks over to me. Cupping my face, he plants a kiss to my lips. "Then let's go."

It doesn't take long at all to get to the temple. As I step through towering golden doors that part silently at my approach, I can't help but take it all in.

The Grand Temple of Solas stretches before me, its vaulted ceiling lost in shadows despite the hundreds of floating light orbs that drift like stars. Crystal columns rise on either side of the central aisle, each one thrumming with contained power that makes my conduit vibrate in response.

The assembled xaphan stand in tiered rows, their wings creating a rippling sea of white and gold that fills the massive chamber. My footsteps echo against marble floors inlaid withprecious metals forming intricate patterns that seem to shift and flow with each step. Incense burns in hovering censers, the smoke weaving through the air in deliberate patterns that form and dissolve into shapes of ancient runes.

The weight of their stares presses against me like a physical force. Some regard me with open disdain, their perfect features twisted in subtle sneers. Others watch with clinical detachment, as though I'm some curious specimen in an experiment. A few show genuine interest, particularly those with mottled gray wings who stand in the lower tiers.

At the front of the temple, three Praexa stand on a raised dais, their multiple sets of golden wings spread wide enough to nearly touch the walls. The center one wears robes that seem woven from pure light, while his companions are dressed in ceremonial armor that gleams like polished stars.

Magic saturates the air so thickly I can taste it - sharp and electric on my tongue. The runes painted on my skin begin to glow in response, creating patterns of light that dance across the silk of my ceremonial robes.

A low hum builds in the air as I approach the dais, the assembled xaphan beginning to sing in perfect harmony. The sound vibrates through my bones, making the crystals in my hair chime in response. Their voices weave together in an ancient language that speaks of transformation and rebirth, of bridges between earth and sky.

The center Praexa steps forward, his golden wings catching the light in mesmerizing patterns. His voice carries through the temple without effort, each word resonating with power.

"Since the dawn of creation, Solas has blessed those who prove worthy with divine transformation. Today, we witness another seeking to bridge the gap between mortal and divine."

My heart pounds so hard I fear the entire assembly can hear it. The Praexa's eyes lock onto mine, piercing through any pretense of calm.

"Approach the altar, Kyrie Kael."

I force my legs to move, each step feeling like I'm wading through thick honey. The magical current grows stronger as I near the dais, making my conduit pulse with answering energy.

"Stand within the circle."

Ancient runes carved into the marble floor begin to glow as I step inside them. The light spreads outward, forming intricate patterns that spiral and weave around my feet. Magic rises like visible heat waves, distorting the air.

The three Praexa raise their hands in unison. Their wings spread wider, golden feathers catching the light of a thousand floating orbs. The chanting grows louder, more intense, until it feels like the very stones are singing.

Raw power slams into me. My back arches as white-hot energy courses through my veins. The ceremonial runes painted on my skin ignite, turning from gold to brilliant white.

Something shifts beneath my skin, a burning pressure that starts between my shoulder blades and spreads outward. My bones feel like they're being reshaped, muscles and tendons stretching in ways they were never meant to. I grit my teeth against the pain, tasting blood where I've bitten my cheek.

The magic whirls faster, creating a vortex of pure energy around me. Through the haze of agony, I see the runes on the floor rising into the air like ribbons of light, wrapping around my body in constricting bands. Each one that touches my skin sears itself into my flesh, adding to the overwhelming sensation of being unmade and reformed.

Through the haze of magic and pain, I feel Azrael's presence beside me. His hand finds mine, strong and steady, a lifeline in the storm of power that threatens to tear me apart. The runescontinue their dance around us, weaving patterns of ancient magic that pulse in time with my racing heart.

"Hold on, little bird." His voice cuts through the roaring in my ears. "Let the magic flow through you, don't fight it."

I grip his hand tighter as another wave of energy crashes over me. The pressure between my shoulder blades intensifies, building to an excruciating crescendo. My spine feels like molten metal, reshaping itself beneath my skin. Every nerve ending screams in protest as new muscles and tendons form, stretching and growing in ways nature never intended.

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