Your fingers tremble as they brush against your hair, only to find the strands flowing like quicksilver between them. The liquid metal captures the moonlight, creating rippling reflections across your face. A gasp escapes your lips as you watch the silver cascade over your shoulders, each movement sending new constellations dancing across its surface.

The Moonweaver claps her hands with delight, her pale eyes crinkling at the corners. 'Ah! The moon has claimed you as her own!' she exclaims. Around you, the lake's surface begins to tremble, your reflection now clearly wearing the Starlight Crown - though the physical crown still hovers untouched before the High Priestess. The gems have shifted to show phases of the moon rather than distant stars.

From the cliffs edge, the Sunforged Knight grinds his armored boot against the stone. 'Pretty tricks,' he mutters, flames licking at his visor. The Voidwalker says nothing, but the space around him darkens noticeably. The High Priestess looks between you and the crown, her ancient eyes filled with both wonder and concern. 'The celestial balance shifts,' she murmurs. 'The moon was not meant to hold such sway during the Rite.'

The liquid silver hair moves with a will of its own now, forming delicate filigree patterns in the air that hover like frozen lightning. You feel the moon's pull in your bones, an insistent tide threatening to sweep you away entirely. The Moonweaver reaches out again, but this time her fingertips leave frost blooming across your cheeks where they touch.