Two hours had passed since Athenia had left the confines of her prison. Being on Atlaris on mortal feet was a surreal experience to her, especially with no other voice trapped within her head. It was her and her alone, not some avatar of her descending on another's body. Soon she would have to return, but walking on her own two feet in the dark castle, a faint smile was plastered on her face.
Flesh and iron as well as dragon scale made up her mortal body. The pistons and iron core were caked in a layer of flexing muscle and dragon steel joints, allowing full range of motion, even in ways that should otherwise be impossible for a human person. Yet clad in a dress of pure white threads conjured by her divine light, Athenia walked freely as an angelic sight with a golden crown floating above her head.
