Circe lowered herself slowly onto the throne. The moment her body fully settled against the smooth ivory surface, something inside her shifted. It felt less like sitting and more like surrendering to the pull the realm wielded.
The throne had been waiting for her acceptance and now that it had that, it welcomed her like an old friend.
The glowing threads beneath her skin flared violently to life.
Light burst through her veins in brilliant streams of silver and pale gold, so bright it illuminated the darkness around her. The markings spread rapidly across her arms, throat, and collarbones before extending outward from her body like roots tearing through fertile soil. They crawled across the throne itself as she channeled her magic outward, slipping between the grooves of carved bone before disappearing deep into the vastness of the realm beyond.
Then the realm answered her with a faint rumble.
