There is something that speaks to the excitement simmering just below the surface with the other magician; something that can be seen like small bubbles of air. She wonders at just what lives in the other’s chest. Does she live twisted into tight curls of excitement? Leliana can hardly imagine what it must be like to be so constantly stimulated. She can hardly imagine that level of energy and joy.
She has always been the quiet sister. She has been the still waters to her sister’s raging oceans, and even despite all of the changes that take root and blossom in her now, this remains the same.
Still, she appreciates the other’s enthusiasm and she responds with a slow spreading of lips into a warm smile. “Magic takes root all over now,” she agrees. “When I was born, it had been stripped away. The world had been bled of magic.” It had been such a different Beqanna then. The lands of old had been rearranged and swallowed and they had emerged as something new entirely.
“But it came back—slowly at first and then all at once.”
Her gifts had been returned to her quickly. They had been pressed into her chest and she had not needed to wait long to know what it was to have her gift of healing curling around her palm, ready to be used. The question catches her off guard though and she frowns slightly, looking into the horizon. “I don’t know that I’ve ever had fun with it.” She looks back. “But this gift—this magic—is new to me.”
She had only just begun to feel its weight and understand its power.
“Before this, I just had my wings and the gift of healing.” The first had been a means of transportation, and in their own way, and the latter had always been a power rooted in seriousness and need.
“What of you? Have you had fun with it?”
@[Isilya]
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