She comes from magic (in more ways than one), but none of it existed now, within her.
(Other than the fact her very existence was impossible, of course.)
She knows of some’s abilities, had watched Ramiel shift from ghost to flesh and back again. It enchants her, as if they are performers.
And it seems Lirren has tuned magic, too, as starlit wings sprout from her sides, seemingly conjured of nothingness. Graveling gasps, audible, for they are lovely and magical.
“Amazing!” she says, and laughs a little, astonished. She likes seeing the stars like this, down at their level, forming wings across the girl’s bay back.
“Can you fly, with them?”
She has watched the birds, sometimes, and wondered what it’s like. It’s more curiosity than longing, though in time, as she gathered experiences, it may turn so.
“You’re magic, too,” she says, softly, more to herself than the girl. It seems Beqanna is awash in magic, manifested in different ways – in ghosts and starlight and dead girls made living.
It astounds and overwhelms her, but mostly, she just wants to see her friend fly.
.
graveling
the worms crawl in, the worms crawl out