Page 98 of The Ascended
"When is the banquet?" I asked, eyeing the envelope with trepidation.
"Tomorrow evening," he replied, breaking the seal with a flick of his thumb. "Which means we need to prepare you."
I groaned. "More training?"
"Of a different sort." His smile held no warmth. "The Dreamweavers will return tomorrow to assist with your... presentation."
My heart gave a small leap at the thought of seeing Lyralei and her team again. They’d been so kind to me before the choosing, and that sounded like the exact thing I needed now. Kindness in the face of the unknown.
"Don't look so pleased," Xül admonished, though amusement flickered in his eyes. "Divine gatherings can be as dangerous as the Trials themselves."
"You certainly know how to make a girl look forward to a party," I muttered.
"It's not a party, starling." He leaned forward, suddenly serious. "It's a performance."
"So I smile and nod and try not to get myself killed. Sounds familiar."
"Indeed." He rose, tucking the invitation into his coat. “Now, off to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
When morning came, I awoke to a flurry of activity outside my chambers. Voices carried through the stone corridors—excited, nervous, distinctly out of place in the somber atmosphere of the Bone Spire.
The Dreamweavers had arrived.
I barely had time to dress before my door burst open, revealing Lyralei in all her silver-haired glory, flanked by Novalie and Vesper. Their expressions as they took in my chambers were comical—a mixture of fascination and thinly-veiled horror.
"Well, don't you look... alive," Lyralei quipped, her eyes sweeping over me.
"Lovely to see you again, dear," Novalie clarified, already unpacking various containers and implements from a bag that seemed to contain far more than its size should allow.
"What they mean," Vesper cut in, pushing past them both to grasp my shoulders, "is that we're thrilled you survived." His eyes narrowed as he examined my face. "Though I could do without the wholedeath domain chicaesthetic you've adopted. Those shadows under your eyes are tragic, darling."
I laughed, surprised by how much I'd missed their chaotic energy. "Good to see you too."
"So," Lyralei said, taking charge as she always did, "we have approximately six hours to transform you from 'recently escaped death' to 'divine vision of perfection.' Novalie, start with her hair—it looks like it's been cut with a dull knife."
"It has," I admitted, earning horrified gasps from all three. "What? Practical trumps pretty when you're training twelve hours a day."
"Barbaric," Vesper muttered, already rifling through my wardrobe.
Lyralei snapped her fingers, and a fourth Dreamweaver I hadn't noticed before hurried forward with what appeared to be a garment bag. "Fortunately for you, we came prepared with an entirely new collection of gowns to choose from."
What followed was hours of pampering that felt surreal after weeks of brutal training. They washed my hair with scented oils, massaged creams into my battle-worn skin, and applied glittering cosmetics.
"The banquet will be held at the palace where the Proving was conducted," Lyralei explained as she worked on my hair. "It's neutral territory between Elaren and Voldaris."
My stomach tightened at the thought of returning to that place. "Lovely."
"All the Legends will be there with their contestants," Novalie added as she applied some shimmering substance to my skin. "Though none of the Twelve will attend."
That, at least, was a relief.
"So it'll just be us lesser beings, then," I said, earning a laugh from Vesper.
"I don’t know if I’d call you a lesser being, Thais Morvaren," he said. "Your performance in the trial has everyone talking, you know."
"I saw you learned quite a bit about alchemy during your time in Draknavor," Lyralei interjected, her voice carefully neutral.
"Xül stuffed my brain with so much information I'm surprised it hasn't leaked out my ears."
