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Aaron didn’t miss Varis’ reaction. He was more interested in his creation than Aaron himself, but that tiny hint of a smile, however brief, did more to put a spring in Aaron’s step than any praise Professor Daun could heap upon him. That was probably the most approval he’d gotten from Varis in weeks, even if the Count never even spared him a glance. 

The Professor’s feedback was valuable too, although to Aaron’s surprise, he had little critique to offer. It seemed he was on the right track, hesitant as he was to believe it. Realistically, Daun was probably just being nice, not wanting to criticize him in front of his master; after all, Aaron could point out a few issues with the illusion right off the bat, not least of which being the unnatural glow of the butterflies. But maybe realism was the next step. He’d be sure to get more detailed critique from the Professor next class. 

Daun’s comment about birds earned him a ghost of a chuckle; had he thought about it beforehand, Aaron probably would have put himself in that category as well. Was it because of his association with the Noilas? Best to keep that quiet if so, given present company – his last foray with crows did not come to a pleasant end. But… why [i]hadn’t[/i] he defaulted to a bird? Did the episode after Revel scar him that badly? He was fond of birds – crows, ravens, magpies especially – and had more experience with them than probably any other creature small enough to replicate, butterflies included. But the butterflies came out so naturally. Why?

Aaron spun his ring as he considered his options, carefully watching the butterfly in Daun’s hand. Ravens loitered on castle grounds at all hours, and he’d probably spent entire nights over the course of his life hanging out with them, feeding them, and watching their mischievous antics. If he had any artistic talent, he could probably reliably draw one from memory. Butterflies, on the other hand, weren’t even nocturnal; he’d probably only ever seen them in the castle gardens on the way to bed, late in the morning after a long night. But somehow they felt so familiar, those fluttering, golden wings pulling at something insistent in the back of Aaron’s mind. It was like grasping at the edges of a dream just after waking, the memory at once vivid and fading too fast to recall. 

[color=f0d705]“That’s interesting that you ask that… I’m not really sure,”[/color] he admitted honestly, glancing over to the Professor. He could feel Varis’ eyes on him, no doubt unimpressed with his answer, but confessing ignorance was always the smarter choice than lying. He’d learned that the hard way. [color=f0d705]“When I was picturing forming the ball, I couldn’t really put a name to what I was making. But when the illusion materialized, it felt like just what I intended. I was never unsure or confused, but I couldn’t have told you what I was making, either.”[/color] 

He trailed off, eyes still fixed on Daun’s butterfly as he mulled over the mystery. After a moment, though, he decided he’d best try again, and set his feet back into the circle, closing his eyes. 

This time, Aaron could see a clearer picture of his end goal: a single, larger butterfly, no longer hidden from his mind’s eye in a chrysalis. The exact source of the image in his memory was still uncertain to him, but it seemed his magic remembered better than he did; before he knew it, he was drawing light into his hands once again, his magic molding it readily into shape. This time, the conjuring was far less dramatic. The ball of light stretched and pinched into a butterfly’s shape before his eyes, and his magic seemed to fill in the finer details for him, its figure and pattern growing more and more pronounced until a larger, more realistic, and notably less [i]glowing[/i] butterfly sat in his palm. 

[color=f0d705]“Ah,”[/color] Aaron breathed, stooping to get a closer look. He wasn’t sure if he’d made any species of butterfly that existed in life, but it looked pretty good to him; it was a little large, but passable, and had a little black body, antennae, and big, gold wings with black edges and eye-like markings in the centres. He held it out for Daun to view, noticing when he moved his hand that the image didn’t [i]quite[/i] move in sync with him. All things considered, though, Aaron was happy; fine coordination would probably be a lesson for another night. 

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