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[i]How did it feel to use your powers, Miss Sokolov?

[color=7e5e7f]LLike breaking free from a chrysalis.[/color]

Pardon?

[color=7e5e7f]A caterpillar doesn’t know what will happen when it makes its shell, secrets itself from the world. It melts. Nothing but a nervous system in a primitive soup, and somehow from that mess a butterfly is made. But it doesn’t know what it is, what it can be, until it breaks free.[/color]

…

I take it, then, that you do feel different after your transformation?

[color=7e5e7f]Of course I do. But that’s not the answer you want, is it? You want a clinician’s answer. To know if I’ve stripped a gear, if I’ve developed a God complex.[/color]

Have you?

[color=7e5e7f]How could I not? Not a God complex, but a god complex. I’m neither omniscient nor omnipotent. But what else can I be but a god of flame? And if I am, are you, this whole institute, not a modern Prometheus? How can this be so dull for you? So… Mundane. What you have all learned to do is a miracle. What you have made of me, and of my peers, is a miracle. I hope I never forget that. I hope the people we save see us as the deliverance of a merciful and loving God, and the Void see us as Her retribution.[/color]

How do you feel about your peers? How did they do?

[color=7e5e7f]Amateurishly. The devushka was slow. That girl, Aoife, came in out of turn. And Chie got hurt.[/color]

…

[color=7e5e7f]Don’t look at me like that. There’s nothing wrong with being an amateur. Once upon a time the word meant love. Passion. To do a thing for the love of it, not because of the money. That is an amateur, and that’s why they’ll be perfect. In time. Nothing motivates, nothing pushes us to soaring, heart aching, pulse pounding heights of artistry like love. 

Give them time. Give [b]us[/b] time. We’ll be the best Ars Magi the world has ever seen.[/color][/i]

[color=7e5e7f]“Good evening, ladies,”[/color] Rivka said, drifting to the table as though gliding, not walking. She was distracted, by exactly what was hard to tell, but she sank into her seat and picked absently at her food. [color=7e5e7f]”[i]Devushka[/i], were you raised in a barn? Mind your table manners. I am going to be the best Ars Magi in the world. [i]We[/i] are going to be the best, show some pride. [i]You[/i] especially, Chie, sit up straight. Show some spine. Injury in the line of battle is the fodder for the best tales in history, the noblest songs. Perk up.”

“You…”[/color] She stopped, staring between Aoife and Selma. One had her elbows on the table, throwing aside detritus and gristle like so much trash with the very vigor of her consumption. And the other ruined the otherwise pleasant sound of her voice by talking through a shovelful of food. She was surrounded by animals. They may yet be the best Magi in the world, but by God she’d never be able to take them [i]anywhere.[/i] Not like that redhead over there. [i]Bozhe moy, kakoye sovershenstvo. Moya zhizn' za vozmozhnost'.[/i] “Never mind. Maybe the library has a book on etiquette.”

[color=7e5e7f]“How are we all feelin? Invigorated? Has our fight against smaller Void prepared us to quell the bigger ones?”[/color] At last, she herself actually took a bite. And a sip. And then she continued, undeterred. [color=7e5e7f]“More importantly, we need a team name. And an emblem. Who among you can draw? My skill with a pencil is not the equal of my skill with a note, and I dare not wear my own handiwork upon my uniform.”[/color]

Her eyes, despite her eager questioning, drifted again.

[i]That’s a grand claim, Miss Sokolov.

[color=7e5e7f]But you’re curious if I can back it up, I think. Perhaps there’s a spark of wonder left in you after all, Doctor. Are we done?[/color]

Yes, we’re done. Your… philosophies aside, I see no cause for concern. Enjoy the rest of your day, Miss Sokolov. You are an Ars Magi.[/i]