You run your fingers along the intricate engravings that now adorn your sun-forged armor, each groove pulsing gently with residual warmth. The celestial patterns depict the journey of the sun across the heavens - here a blazing disk rising between mountain peaks, there the same orb cradled by winged figures at dusk. Between these scenes flow delicate lines connecting constellations, forming a star map that shifts subtly as you move.

The pauldrons bear particularly elaborate designs - twin solar eclipses with corona flares rendered in minute detail. As you study them, the metal grows momentarily transparent, revealing the fiery celestial mechanics within. You glimpse miniature planets orbiting a tiny sun, their motion perfectly synchronized with your pulse.

On the breastplate, the image of a phoenix spreads its wings across your chest, its feathers individually etched with solar symbols. When sunlight touches them directly, the entire creature seems to ripple as if taking flight. The High Priestess inhales sharply as she notices this. 'The Living Glyphs,' she murmurs. 'They haven't manifested in twelve star-cycles.'

Turning your wrist reveals a band of golden script encircling your forearm. The characters reshape themselves as you watch, cycling through ancient languages you somehow understand. Currently they read: 'She who wears the dawn shall walk the razor's edge between day and night.' The knight nods knowingly when you show them, their amber eyes flickering like candle flames.