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[indent][indent][indent][color=gray][sub][right][color=E3485D][b]Location:[/b][/color] Ifrise Forest, Sovereignty of Dryadalis[/right][/sub][/color][hr]
[color=E3485D]“No questions.”[/color] Pythia commented as she took a step back and took a guarded stance.

The idea that she was to abandon Judas and let their enemy take such a weapon unnerved her. She knew the plan smelled rotten when she heard Etoile mention she was entirely inept at tracing magic—that she had the privilege for other people to do that for her. What kind of magi couldn’t commit to even the basics of function she wondered. There was a difference between needing to rely on a foci to cast magic and complete lack of ability to feel the mana that existed in the air, the water, and the soil. Pythia felt her paranoia raise as her mood lowered, curious of what kind of person the self-styled leader of the group was. Where did she come from? Every magi had a story, after all. Her posture, now that she was looking for it, did seem strange to the red-headed princess.

She looked to the rest of the group, though kept her eyes on the blonde in front of her. She did not want her to suspect she was scared or taken-aback. 

[color=E3485D]“I do, however, think your plan is an idiot’s gamble and I will have no part in it. This sword is too imp—.”[/color] The red-haired girl's eyes widened as she paused, before changing the subject of her reply as quick as she could in the moment. [color=E3485D]“—this sword is my [i]foci[/i], and as an [i]artificem magum[/i] I would be unable to defend myself in the face of this threat. I will not allow this insane wild mage to have my weapon. We will need to dictate a better plan.”[/color]


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