There is no Frigate like a Book To take us Lands away.
Elizabeth jumped at the Belial's holler, trying to hide the blush that deepened the cold-induced redness. Her arms pulled the shawl closer, pretending to adjust her shoulders to pull the tension from her muscles. This peryton would be the death of her.
Deimos appeared much more comfortable discussing his expertise. His relaxed manner and offered smiles had her absorbing each moment. The reassurance in her weapon of choice filled her chest, although she knew there was much to improve on. If she asked, Elizabeth had no doubt that the Warden would be able to instruct her despite his own preference of the sword. His choice of magic, on the other hand, had her tilting her head in interest, wondering at the destructive nature of the two and what it may imply about the man. However, she let the moment pass, eager to share her own ability.
She spread her hand out in front of her, concentrating on the constant hum of magic within. The static ran across her fingertips, tingling her nerves pleasantly as tiny sparks flitted between fingers. Elizabeth smiled softly to herself. "Electricity has always come naturally to me. I can't quite call it 'lightning' yet, but I hope to get there one day." Looking up at Deimos, she grinned happily and let her hand fall back to her side. It was a joy to talk about her gift, even if the gods might not see it that way.
Elizabeth
