A three-part honorific name... Angel grew increasingly wary and simply hid inside the mirror, watching the ritual and preparing to sever the entire area and pull it into the Mirror World at any moment.
As Trissy's voice echoed through the living room, the gemstones and diamonds arranged in a circle to form a makeshift altar shattered with a series of faint pops. Blue, green, and translucent powders mingled, glimmering as they spiraled into the flames ignited by Dorian's blood within the altar.
The flames swiftly swelled and rose, almost licking the ceiling. Then their light grew deep and dark, and their edges contracted and stabilized, forming an illusory door that nearly divided the living room in two and led to an unknown world.
Its edges layered inward, constantly shifting with light and shadow like a series of nested doors. It reminded Angel of the emblem she had seen in Calderon, the City of the Dead, which had some connection to Tamara's Apprentice branch.
The surrounding temperature also fell, approaching freezing. A barely perceptible breeze stirred, as though countless creatures concealed from view were lurking beside Trissy, exhaling through their nostrils.
Trissy knitted her brows and quietly moved two steps toward a corner of the room. There was a mirror there, along with an Unaging Demoness hidden in the shadows. It was the safest place in the room.
She was not afraid of death, but she feared dying meaninglessly before she could take her revenge.
The instant she moved, the overlapping light and shadows within the illusory door at the center of the altar began to turn. They transformed into a dark, crimson vortex that filled the door's interior, and an ethereal voice emerged from within:
"You are... Cheek's blessed?"
The language the voice used resembled none in common use today,