[color=a2d39c][b]"Pulvis, vento, nubes, celare."[/b][/color] Zafiria repeated to herself. The words were Latin, an old language that was considered dead to all except the magi that practised the older spells, other than the basics. Not all of the words were known and so some spells might have a word within it that no-one knew. Those tended to be the more dangerous spells as they hadn't been passed down for a reason. Of course, Zafiria knew one or two thanks to her ranking as a princess, the ability to protect herself against Frost and the wind's guidance. This spell looked like she would throw the dust into the air after the last word. 

Zafiria looked to the closest clock. If the tutor didn't show up by then she figured that they weren't going to. She thought she might head to the outdoor training grounds within the mountain castle and try her new spell. She would have to stop by the masonry first, but after the long walk to it, she should have no trouble gathering the dust. Zafiria had felt that her situation was always a little bit strange. The magi from her area were often gifted with wind abilities, and yet their most abundant resource was stone. It created a rather interesting relationship between the elements of the landscape and the people closely associated with either element. 

She walked the halls of the palace alone, taking the least used hallways for it to stay that way. She found comfort in the solace of the halls today, many other times she would find them cold and oppressive. Today the cold felt liberating, giving Zafiria a heightened sense of freedom despite the fact that she was confined within the castle walls. While walking she began to think back to her encounter with Mr. Falcon. He seemed like a man on mysteries, but harmless to the kingdom as a whole. She had to admit, he was an attractive person despite looking a little feminine. She would like to learn more about him if she could, but that wasn't often an opportunity that came to Zafiria often. She continued on her way down a winding set of stone stairs, headed towards the masons currently working in a conference room. 

[color=a2d39c][b]"Pulvis, vento, nubes, celare."[/b][/color] she muttered to herself, practicing different inflections as she walked.