[Temple of Azur-Urzan — Continuation]
Silver moonlight descended, not across the temple, not upon the priests, not over the nobles—but solely upon two figures.
The Malik and the Malika.
Zeramet in his colossal silver serpent form, and Levin beneath his veil of woven moonlight. The High Priest's voice rose, trembling, chanting ancient Zahryssarian rites in a tongue older than desert stone:
"Sarath-Urzan… Tahrim-Ishenne… Khaal-Erra…"
The entire temple obeyed the weight of those words with utter silence. Nobles bowed deeper, mages pressed their foreheads to the marble, the Red Knights held their breath.
Levin stood still as his veil fluttered like silk wings in a divine breeze, and the warmth of Zeramet's immense serpent body beside him made his heart steady.
Then the High Priest struck his staff on the marble.
CLANG!!!
The sound shivered through the sanctum, the moon above them pulsed—once, gently—as though it inhaled and then— Heaven Opened.
Not silver moonlight.
