[centre][h2]Morgana Faith[/h2][/centre]

[color=c4df9b]“Tsk. A [i]mess[/i] she says.”[/color] Morgana grumbled under her breath as Faye used her esoteric abilities to trace the magic in the portal to its destination. She watched the girl for a few seconds, seeing nothing whatever with her mundane eyes, before moving on.

What did magic look like to a fae? That they experienced magic in a different way to humans was well known, as shown by the way the girl could just glance at empty air and comment on how the magic looked to her, but what did she see exactly? Was there a visual difference between Greek and Middle Eastern formulas, between the modern and the archaic? How did they differ? Was it like looking at two paintings in different styles laid atop each other? Or like a building where the foundations were made in one style and the second floor in another?

Well, there was no denying that whoever had created this ritual had made something needlessly complex and potentially unstable by mixing different cultural spheres together, but it still worked and as far as Morgana could tell worked well; to call it a mess was to ignore the understanding and talent required to weave something like that together. Whoever made this was a genius, or at least exceptionally talented; the lack of a formal education does not mean the lack of any education after all, only that they did not learn what they knew from textbooks and classrooms. They [i]had[/i] learned; in fact they had learned quite a lot. The intricacies involved, the careful balancing act of blending two or more disparate schools of magical theory without them clashing was more than Morgana could adequately describe; someone could dedicate years of their life to creating a ritual formula as complex as this and likely had. Though whether this person had created it themselves or simply learned it from another she wasn’t yet sure.

Being a scholar of magic was about standing on the shoulders of giants while trying to become a giant yourself, after all. Everything was built on top of what was there already.

Morgana raised her left hand and made a circle with her thumb and forefinger again. The circuit that appeared this time was different than the one she had used before with her right hand; rather than let her see the faint traces of magic in the air, this one let her capture and store images that could then be called forth later on. A camera, essentially. She recorded an image of the ritual circle for further perusal later on before turning away.

[color=c4df9b]“Minsk, is it?”[/color] Not the place she would have expected to find a scholar of ancient Greek and Middle Eastern magics, but then those were a rare breed to begin with. [color=c4df9b]“How fun. I’ve never been to Eastern Europe.”[/color]