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darkredA magnificent snicker blossomed on Nero’s face, though he couldn’t tell which was the chief contributor: Elizabeth’s asinine statement or the squeaky, high-pitched voice she said it in. Had her mind already reverted? Or had it never developed in the first place? Life’s mysteries would forever plague him. ”Do unto others, kiddo.” A frigid glisten on the ground and seats bade him pause in his derision, however. A roll of his eyes heralded the realization: the little prodigy had magic all the way back then. What a bother. The rate at which it spread perturbed him, and the genie reflexively stepped back. His mind raced to figure out whether age itself constituted a magic inhibitor for Elizabeth –one that his curse unknowingly removed- or the Law of Retrogression somehow backfired and strengthened her sorcery rather than stunting it.
He glared insistently at Trinity as Elizabeth started to talk, demanding mediation. After all, were the Phoenix Wingers not paragons of restraint and virtue when the opportunity suited them? The little creep’s crude poetry certainly registered with the minstrel, but rather than stepping in to try and halt the magical display in any way, Trinity conjured up a miniature orchestra’s worth of instruments and somehow activated them all at once. An impressive noise, to be sure, but other than drown out Elizabeth’s last two sentences it did nothing. Nero groaned. ”So obviously, attack the person with mental problems. You’re a therapeutic genius, kiddo. I liked it better when you didn’t talk.” He snapped his fingers, and the curse relinquished its hold on Elizabeth instantly. She grew back to full size like an unleashed spring. No doubt the unnatural experience disoriented her—just as the dark mage planned. As a hyena darts in to secure the kill, Nero slipped forward and poked the girl in the chest with an outstretched finger. A high-charged Law of Embodiment buried itself within her, and from the impact point outward both human and clothes began to turn to wood. Nero hopped back, smiling and saying, ”Wouldn’t have to do this if these Wingers were any less useless. Then again, I didn’t have to needle ya. It’s not every day I meet someone like me, dearie. Shame you had to get on my bad side. In another life, we could have been the best of friends.” He crossed his arms, waiting for the wood to close over her face and render her nothing more than a statue. ”Still, wood you mind leaf-ing me alone for a while? Nyeheheh! Toodle-oo, psycho!” He beat a hasty retreat, aware that his curse could last as little as ten minutes.