Something inside me writhed in joy and I found I somehow knew exactly what came next. I raised one hand and dragged it across my face. "Verdant winds of Invidia, change me!"
For one moment, I seemed to stand in a hall of envy's mirrors reflecting every inadequacy: too tall and clumsy, too ugly, too weak, too unlovable, too unmotivated. C couldn't change; couldn't be anything anyone would want to be, anyone anyone would really want to have. But envy would turn each inadequacy into a font of strength.
So what if I was too big and clumsy? I could just imitate Ida's grace. I could borrow Temperance's stature and poise. So what if I was weak? I could mimic Inessa's power and beauty. So what if I was pathetic; I could steal the bearing of a Saint.
Miasma wrapped around me, buffeting me as it scoured away everything unneeded, everything of Charleton in favor of something softer and smaller and prettier and perfect.
And then it condensed into soft fabric. My hands, stretched toward Inessa in welcome, found themselves covered in long black gloves. A skirt, black with green highlights copied the exact style the Saints wore. Envy could do nothing less. I toyed with the bow on my chest (and tried not to pay attention to the fact that I actually had a chest) and then nearly lost my balance as the dark left a pair of dark wings on my back.
The Saints had little feathery things, more ornament than not. Mine, flared out as the transformation left them, were a thing of another tier entirely. These were mine. The mark of envy's beast. No matter how much the Saints outshone the sun, I would reflect their light and rule the night.
I smiled at them, tongue flicking across one of my fangs.
"With a jealous scream to shatter the night, Invidia Bat has arrived!" I let my hand fall to my side, dipping low into a curtsy and wrapping myself in my wings.
