Kryssia remained silent for a few seconds, as if trying to process everything at once — the pain, the death, the rebirth… and the horns.
With a slight motion, she stood up. Still unsteady, but determined. Her bare feet touched the cold floor with a soft click, as if even the ground itself recognized that something new had awakened there. Something… ancient.
She walked toward the old mirror leaning against the wall, its dusty, cracked glass reflecting only distorted fragments of her.
She wiped the surface with her palm. The dust scattered — and then she saw.
Her eyes widened.
The once-pale skin now looked firmer, as if reforged. The blue strands of hair that once hung in disarray now shimmered with dark, ethereal tones. And the horns… they curved elegantly back, sharp like a crown carved from living sapphire.
She touched her own face carefully, as if she couldn't quite believe what she was seeing.
