❛ Magic does that. It wastes you away. Once it grips you by the ear, the real world gets quieter and quieter, until you can hardly hear it at all. ❜
𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 / 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒. // accepting.
The elf is an odd sight, star speckled as if their skin was made of the night sky; it even shimmers! Claudia notices in her intent study of their figure, so concentrated she does not mind keeping a safe distance (closer allows her to see better, after all). The young mage ought to look as if not listening to their words at all, absent minded and lost in her analysis; yet she listens as attentively as she watches, straightening herself at their words, green eyes meeting their black and yellow then.
It wastes you away. In more senses than one, too. Hand reaches for the tips of her single white streak amidst black hair, fingers brushing it without thought. Yet if magic begins to weight her down and mark her body the more she seeks stronger spells, Claudia understands the meaning of their words, the way she interprets them, in the least. Magic is addictive. It gets a hold on you and never lets go, and you would not want it to let go, either — instead, you want to learn more, to do more, and then you think you will never be able to live without it.
The real world pales in comparison to a world with magic. It is why her kind sought to create their own sort of it, she believes; if they were born with nothing, humans still wished to be part of magic and it share of its wonders. They made a path where there had been none, and she would never wish not to walk it.
“Is it like that for your kind too?” There is something of eager in her voice, curiosity unbound. “Because you are born with it, I would have thought you immune to this sort of thing —— to the way magic makes the real world look paler, the way it makes you want to learn more all the while taking away the interest in other things. Like you can’t hear the real world, but it does not matter, because it opens you to hearing something more.”
