A standard Rhodes Island uniform. Black ear-feathers fell beside his ears, and gray hair was mostly hidden beneath the thorns atop his head, with only a few strands spilling over his shoulders.
The young man's face held confusion and hesitation. His reason for standing here was not especially firm, and after using the medical examination as a tool to verify his own ideas, he had never considered how long he would be punished with community service for breaking the rules.
The red in those eyes resembled his mother's, yet they carried more gentleness, and emotions he had seen before—similar emotions.
And the Pegasus had excellent eyesight. He could clearly take in everything, including the other's emotions, movements, details of his clothes, the bone flute around his neck, and the Bone Pen in his hand.
So Gerald slowly raised the wind, covering the surveillance cameras in the corner beyond his flow and containing all sound within this area, without letting even a trace leak out.
Such an action was clearly interpreted as hostility.
Thus, in the next second, the Banshee made his move.
"I define, therefore I correct."
"Before the enemy's eyes, let a rain of arrows fall."
And the Incantation descended like meteors.
The young lord of the Royal Courts had long mastered all knowledge related to Incantation, from the simplest books in the library to tomes that only a handful of people had truly understood over hundreds of years. His talent was so extraordinary that even at her saddest, the former Banshee lord had not forgotten to gather up the ever-rippling stream as a gift, celebrating his excellence.
At this moment, the Banshee did not even need to follow a brief chant—he could already freely manipulate the weaving of Incantation, filling the courtyard with thorns that belonged to him.