<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ccff99">As the spell she was weaving fizzled out for the sixth time, Ayla looked over at her brother, calm as could be, brow furrowed with focus as he scribbled complex diagrams in his workbook. He wasn’t angry, not even a little, which meant…</span><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#a6ff4d"> I’ll be back, Xi.</span></i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ccff99"> She smiled as she got nothing but a nod in reply. He probably assumed she was the source of the anger. Walking down the hall, she went to push her hair off her shoulders out of habit, before remembering that not only was it tied back identically to her brothers, but she’d gotten it cut that morning as well.<br/>
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She hesitated outside his study door, having felt the wards shift when he’d returned. If he was as angry as he felt, did she really want to do this? But if she could help in some way… normally she was the source of anger and frustration, the other two in their empathic link learning to adapt and comforting her, not the other way around.</span>