thewarofaspectsâ:
âWeak Magic.â She replied, seeing that this human wasnât going to be friendly. She guess it was her fault, but still, she could have been nice. âSense mine.â With that, Ilrivyl let lose merely a fraction of her power, the sky itself slowly whipping up a storm as the wind circle around them. Power leaked from the small womanâs frame like waterfalls.
âWeak Magic.â She repeated. âBut I can appreciate the aesthetic.â
So thatâs how it was, huh? Another âpowerhouseâ here to patronize her or something. Great, just what she needed. She was already having a foul day and with this adding to it, well⌠good things just werenât meant for her, huh?
âAll right then. Iâve got nothing more to do here.â Sheâs already shoving her sketchbook and pencil into her bag, ready to leave.
Ilrivyl didnât need to read minds to know what was going on in the mortalâs head. âRude. You insulted me, you threaten me, and then when I show my power, you run away.â For the first time in a long while, Ilri was frustrated enough to speak.
âYou call yourself a witch like its some badge, but youâre still a child, a child playing with forces she cannot comprehend.â She shook her head in frustration. âI did not come here to insult you or belittle you. But I will go, human. Wallow in the despair of your short-mindedness. If you were kind, I would have allowed you in the Sky Library.â














