Blood and moonlight
A light split through the storm, brighter than the blood moon, purer than any spell cast by the gods.
It descended—slowly, steadily—until it found Ava, suspended in the air like a breath between worlds.
She didn’t move. Her eyes were shut, her arms loose by her sides. But the wind around her had stilled, as if the mountain itself dared not breathe.
Then it began.
From her back, two currents of energy burst—one of burning silver, the other deep crimson. They twisted and wove into each other, creating a spiral of twin flames that rose into the heavens. Her skin shimmered, turning pale gold beneath the silver moonlight.