"That's mine!" Bianca shrieked, her desperation turning into a blind rage. She began to channel her magic, the air around her feet frosting over as she tried to conjure ice to bind Ophelia's legs. "Give it back, or I'll—"
"You'll what?" Ophelia interrupted, raising an eyebrow in genuine amusement. She watched the ice begin to creep up her silken boots, but she didn't flinch.
"I'll have to kill you!" Bianca gasped, her illusions and ice swirling in a weak, disorganized display of power. "I'm sure you don't want me to—"
Ophelia laughed harder, a sound of pure, cutting derision. "You? Kill me? How very… delusional."
Ophelia's expression went dead. The amusement vanished, replaced by a cold, dangerous gravity. "Everyone thinks my power is limited, Bianca. They think 'Light Magic' means healing. They think it's gentle. Harmless. They think I am a pretty lantern in a dark hallway."
