Page 14 of Court of Twisted Angels

Below, maintenance mages reset the trial arena, their spells weaving new patterns into the void. Fresh runes ignite along the obsidian walls, ready to trap the next batch of hopefuls. The wraiths reform, their ethereal forms dancing through the darkness like smoke.

My wings shift restlessly as I consider the possibilities. An untrained human would be perfect - especially if I could entice her with something as easy as medicine. And this one has already proven her adaptability, her instinct for survival. With proper guidance, that potential could be shaped, honed into something truly formidable.

I trace a finger along my family's signet ring, feeling the cursed magic that pulses within. The stones' power could cleanse this taint, restore my bloodline's honor. And I think I found just the right way to have the stone obtained in the trials without having the whole of New Solas watch me debase myself by jumping in myself.

My plan begins to crystallize. I'll offer to train her personally—an honor no human could refuse. And while she learns to harness her power, I'll mold her into the perfect tool for my search.

I look back to the Praexa. "Assign her to me."

They blink, staring up at me. The central one furrows his brow. "You want to train her?"

The hooded one next to him howls with laughter. "Of course he does. He's a bored noble and what's more fun than tormenting a human in the trials."

Their words make my stomach twist, but I let a cruel smile spread across my face. "Exactly."

"We'll mark it down," the hooded one says, and I nod in thanks, turning away.

I stalk through the rocky corridors of the trial grounds, my boots clicking against the polished floor. Magical orbs float overhead, casting a soft golden glow that reflects off the faceted walls. My wings rustle with each step, the silver feathers a constant reminder of my noble birth—and the curse that threatens to strip it all away.

A decorative mirror catches my attention, its surface enchanted to never tarnish. I pause, studying my reflection in the ancient glass. Dark circles shadow my ice-blue eyes, more pronounced than they were last month.

The curse's progression shows in subtle ways—the slight pallor of my skin, the dull sheen of my once-lustrous wings, the faint tremor in my hands that I must constantly suppress.

Behind me, the Praexa's laughter echoes down the hall, but they don't see the desperation hidden beneath my carefully maintained facade, the way the curse eats away at my family's power day by day.

Finding those stones isn't just about restoring honor anymore - it's about survival. And that human girl, with her raw talent and unconventional methods, might be my last chance to save everything.

9

KYRIE

The wind howls around me, a haunting melody that matches the thunder of my pulse. Below, an endless expanse of emerald treetops stretches toward the horizon, their leaves dancing in waves like a distant sea. The wooden platform creaks beneath my feet, weathered boards worn smooth by countless aspirants before me.

I grip the railing, my knuckles white against the ancient wood. The height steals my breath – we must be at least five hundred feet up. Magic shimmers in the air, visible as faint purple wisps that curl and twist through the gaps between the planks. These enchantments are all that keep the massive structure aloft, defying nature's laws as casually as breathing.

"This was a stupid idea," I mutter.

My auburn hair whips across my vision, and I push it back with trembling fingers. The only thing that keeps me up on the dizzying training platform is the constant reminder of why I'm here. Of who needs me to succeed.

But the platform sways slightly, and my stomach lurches. Dawn breaks over the distant mountains, painting the sky inshades of rose and gold, but I barely notice its beauty. Instead, my eyes keep dragging back to that terrible drop.

The enchanted crystals embedded in the platform's edge pulse with a soft blue light, marking the designated takeoff point. Other platforms float in the distance, connected by nothing but air and magic, their silhouettes dark against the morning sky. Somewhere in that aerial maze lies my goal – if I can find the courage to take this first step.

I draw in another shaky breath, tasting magic on my tongue – sharp and metallic, like lightning about to strike. My worn leather boots scrape against the wood as I edge closer to the precipice.

The training wings connected to my back feel impossibly heavy, their joints pressing into my shoulder blades. They were conjured, and they feel like they won't respond to me. One wrong move, one miscalculation, and all my dreams of saving Mother will end here, broken on the forest floor below.

"Quite the view, isn't it?"

The deep voice cuts through my thoughts like a blade. I spin around, my heart leaping into my throat. I'm shocked to see Azrael stands a mere few feet away, his presence commanding the small platform.

Tall and imposing, with jet-black hair pulled back and eyes like shards of winter ice. His wings – real, permanent wings, not the conjured training ones I wear – stretch out behind him, their white feathers shining almost golden in the dawn light.

My brain screams at me to back away, but like that first night, I don't feel debilitating fear around him. Though the scar tissue along my neck and back burns with phantom pain, a stark reminder of my last encounter with his kind.

"I…suppose it is," I answer. "What are you doing up here?"

"I've been watching you." His boots whisper against the wooden planks as he moves closer. "Your form needs work. Theway you tense like you expect the training wings to just work instead of properly using them will get you killed on your first jump."

---