Lena straightened up, focusing on her wings to keep her stable in the air without tumbling to the floor. She could feel the ancestral spirits watching her, waiting for her to explain herself.
So she did.
"I like magic," Lena said simply. "I like to kill. And blood makes me shiver in excitement."
She wasn't lying. Not even a little bit. Those were genuinely things she enjoyed about Masteria. The combat, the spell casting, the visceral satisfaction of winning a fight. All of it resonated with something deep inside her.
The ancestral spirits went quiet for a moment, their presences pulling back slightly as they conferred among themselves in hushed voices.
Lena could hear fragments of their conversation echoing through the steel chamber.
"...seems to be the case, doesn't it?"
"...finally... a worthy pixie..."
"...how long has it been since the last one?"
"...years... maybe three? Probably not that long..."
"...doesn't matter... this one is different..."
