Queen Isolde Creighton sat in perfect stillness at her marble tea table, the delicate porcelain cup balanced between fingers that had signed death warrants and peace treaties with equal composure.
Her sapphire eyes reflected the afternoon light as she took measured sips of her tea, each movement calculated with the precision of someone who had learned that every gesture carried weight. The grace and poise of absolute authority emanated from her being like an invisible crown, marking her as one who had never known defeat.
Until today.
Her eyes began to change.
The natural sapphire blue dissolved as brilliant geometric patterns emerged across her irises—interlocking circles, spiraling fractals, mathematical equations that described the fundamental structure of reality itself. The transformation was beautiful and terrible, marking the activation of a Gift that existed beyond mortal comprehension.
Akasha's Eyes.
