how did this asylum become where i sleep
Her stomach rumbled again and Alys flushed with embarrassment. Just how long had she been alone at her table, absorbed in her cards? She should have left ages ago - but then, she wouldn't have met Tal and had the opportunity to practice her magic. Everything happens for a reason, she reminded herself, and glanced at the server, who struggled to hide his surprise at her magical display. "I'll have what he's having," she said, and the server trundled away.
Her little illusion had flickered as her attention shifted; she wasn't particularly good at multitasking, and she really needed to improve in order to use her illusions how she wanted to. But now that her attention was back on it, the illusion strengthened until it looked almost real - at least, until Tal poked at it, his finger passing right through the bird. At his compliment, she beamed with pride. It was only recently that she'd begun to think of her illusions as anything other than useless, so for someone else to compliment them was truly marvelous.
"Not very," she admitted. "I have to keep them pretty close to me. I'm trying to practice more, though." To prove her point, she sent her bird flittering across the dining hall, above the heads of the many patrons. Most paid it no mind, appearing not even to see it, but a few ducked and sent withering looks her way. The little bird didn't make it far - perhaps five feet at best - before flickering out. Bored of the bird, she summoned a new creation: a tiny mouse, which scurried toward Tal, lifted itself up on its hind legs, and peered at the courier with interest.
Her little illusion had flickered as her attention shifted; she wasn't particularly good at multitasking, and she really needed to improve in order to use her illusions how she wanted to. But now that her attention was back on it, the illusion strengthened until it looked almost real - at least, until Tal poked at it, his finger passing right through the bird. At his compliment, she beamed with pride. It was only recently that she'd begun to think of her illusions as anything other than useless, so for someone else to compliment them was truly marvelous.
"Not very," she admitted. "I have to keep them pretty close to me. I'm trying to practice more, though." To prove her point, she sent her bird flittering across the dining hall, above the heads of the many patrons. Most paid it no mind, appearing not even to see it, but a few ducked and sent withering looks her way. The little bird didn't make it far - perhaps five feet at best - before flickering out. Bored of the bird, she summoned a new creation: a tiny mouse, which scurried toward Tal, lifted itself up on its hind legs, and peered at the courier with interest.
Alys
