"And who are you, Demon Spawn, to judge me? To condemn me for who I am? Because you are no better than me, false son of Michael." Fenn spat, not backing down. He didn't scare her, not as much as he thought he could. Not much scared her anymore, and this child most definitely did not. 
"You only know of your own cruelty but you don't know what exists in the rest of the world. You don't know what exists in the soul of the blackest of the black who were allowed to walk this world when it separated. Your mother may have been Black but she was not Dark, and yes stupid child, there is a difference. You only know what is told to you...but not what actually is. You can't trust the words of other people, boy, only their actions. And trust takes time...it is not instant, like you so want it to be. It is days, weeks, months, even years of reliability that the person who you so desperately want to trust actually deserves that. Because we aren't like your father, we can't see into the hearts of others. And so we came up with other ways, and you have to put up with that because if you can't then go home boy. You are obviously still too young to be away from your mother's bosom." Fenn growled, fire arching up her fingertips but she quickly put it out. She stepped back, his ignorance angering her. She could feel something primal wake up in her, something she hasn't felt since she was a child. Something that a White Witch condemns and leaves to rot in the darkest part of their minds. She could feel the Darkness creeping up and she shook her head, pushing it back down.