>>5373685>>5373692>>5373959>>5374020>>5374111>>5374114>>5374230>>5374706"Ahahaha." You place your hand over your mouth, leaning yourself against the door as the absurdity of your sister's self-evaluation plunges you into a laughing fit. "Ahahahahahaha! Learning wizardry, Phaere? Do you intend to turn yourself into a male next? Why not pick out a new name for yourself? 'Phaerar' suits a boyish girl like you quite nicely." From ear-to-ear you beam while praying that your jeer bites deeply. There is no actual reason why you do this, not really; this is simply how things are supposed to be.
Unfazed, Phaere yawns and sprawls herself out in your long chair. "Daring words, Jezy. You spend two thirds of your time suckling Lolth's teat, and still you have yet to be blessed with the power to mend a scraped knee. A bit sad, is it not?" You ball your fists and sneer, doing your best to project a certain strength that you lack. She is correct, and the truth hurts. While raising your hand to beat her over the head, she beams back at you. It is infuriating, honestly. She is subject to the same overbearing mother, the same pressure to succeed, the same cruel punishments. Despite the world, she is simply so... smugly content.
Incomprehensibly, you are inflamed by a desire to know more. What is her secret? Is it spellcraft? Some sort of ritual or incantation? "I... I wish to see more magics." Happy to oblige, Phaere jumps to her feet and snuffs the lantern which illuminates your room, temporarily drenching it in blackness. Speaking words of power, she creates an orb of violet light between her hands and suspends it in the air. You scoff - even you are capable of casting such a simple cantrip, if with some incredible effort on your part. No, it is what comes next that leaves an impression.
Placing her hands adjacent to the luminous sphere, they cast their shadows against the unadorned wall of your room. Delicately, she manipulates her appendages until they cast the image of an alien animal across its surface, using her fingers to waggle its limbs and ears. "What... are you doing?" You mutter, fixated on the oddity. "This is a shadow puppet," she responds. "I read about them in a book I pilfered from a merchant. This creature is referred to as a 'rabbit.'"
Enthusiastically, she grabs at your wrists, and shapes your hands to assist you in creating your own 'rabbit,' much to your astonishment. Maintaining the silhouette is at first unintuitive, though soon enough you are playfully hitting one another's shadows and having them chase each other about. For hours, the two of you play shadow puppets in the dark, making shapes and animals as Phaere tells of creatures from a world that seems implausibly distant.
