In so many ways, she can easily feel the other magician when she arrives in her home. Perhaps it is because they have such a familiar pattern to the beat of their heart. Perhaps it is the kindred spirit of their magic calling out to one another. Perhaps it is simply because the woman of plants had seen her at her lowest—at the moment when she struggled to find a hold on her own magic—and that kind of vulnerability breeds a certain kind of loyalty. Whatever it is, she feels her heart race when she senses her.
Her wings flare at her sides and then shift and before she can take another breath, she is launching into the air and then arcing across her kingdom. Her wings catch the light and then absorb it, turning from crimson feathers into pure sunshine, taking the sun and forming it by her sides, stretching it further and further out.
When she lands near the mare, the light remains, although she dulls it so that it would not harm the other. She folds them in by her sides, golden and translucent and the pale endless blue of the sky, and then steps forward into the other mare. She presses her nose into the mare’s neck and breathes in deep, embracing her with a warmth that she had not been capable of the last time that they had found each other.
“I am so glad that you are here,” she says gently, her voice calm and measured—always such an indication of the steady rivers that course through her heart. She steps back and looks toward the rivers of magma that course through the kingdom, laughing softly. “I see that you have found the sister to the water that feeds into Tephra.” The heat is not uncomfortable, but Leliana knows just how dangerous it is for her to be around the magma for long. Such a contradiction: the magic she has planted in Tephra surrounded by the one element that poses the most harm to her. “You get used to it after a while.”
it's only you and me there until the darkness calls
let's face the dawn together; we'll brave whatever comes
@[Isilya]