Cersie couldn't deny the way the other's blood made him feel. It was a powerful, addictive sensation, and it called out to all the chaos inside of him. But there was also a reasonable part of him that spoke of how many consequences he could face if he let his powers loose upon the world. It was a war he'd fought with himself since his conception, more or less. He was the most uncontrolled element of them all. Even Earth couldn't stop him. He could just conjure lightning to fracture and burn that which tried to hold him back. Even Iseulith, in all his selfishness, couldn't stop him. Not really. But he had a feeling the other believed otherwise. Even up here, feet upon feet above the fake water, the other didn't fear him.<br/><br/>And he was a creature to be feared and respected. Until that happened, Cersie couldn't begin to trust the other, even if the vampire didn't care one way or the other. Iseulith was giving him the freedom to do as he wished, he with his millennia of age and experience behind him. Would he be powerful enough to stop the wrath of those that would seek to stop them? Cersie couldn't do this alone, and it wasn't something he wanted to dwell upon at the moment. In truth, he had something to prove to the vampire, and there was enough space here that he couldn't risk breaking Iseulith's magic and exposing them both to the flawed humanity.<br/><br/>For all he agreed with Iseulith that he should be free. Cersie reached up to stroke his face. "Then let me show you something I should have shown you the first night we met." The wind pulled Iseulith, dragging him away from Cersie, about twenty feet. There he would be suspended, though if he truly wished he could be free to plummet into the magic he'd worked so hard to create. It was flattering, and he wasn't doing this to frighten Iseulith so much as command the elder's respect. Cersie did fear and respect him, but he didn't trust him, and perhaps he never would fully. Yet this would be a test of wills, to test the vampire's resolve, to make him see and understand that Cersie wasn't meant to be controlled by anything or anyone.<br/><br/>Which would just drive Iseulith's point even further, wouldn't it?<br/><br/>The wind would start to coil around Cersie's body, tighter and tighter until the body fractured and grew ethereal. A torrent of magic, wind, rain and sleet swirled in a vicious maelstrom. A cyclone formed, though well enough out of the way that the vampire wouldn't immediately be drawn into it. It expanded and grew, fiercer, stronger. The sounds within were loud and would have scared the piss out of a human. Cersie's body warped and grew, reforming into an image of fierce size and strength. A dragon. Silver and blue scales and feathers mottled his body. His head alone was bigger than Iseulith, with four massive feathered wings protruding from his back. His eyes were still the stormy swirl. His talons were as long as Iseulith's arms. He looked nearly like a griffin, his head more birth like than draconic, and he shrieked at Iseulith.<br/><br/>His wings beat once and dispersed the storm that had given birth to this monstrosity. He walked on the sky, the wind still holding the vampire aloft but not imprisoning him. Cersie bent his massive head until they were eye-level. His voice swirled along Iseulith's thoughts.<i>Do you see now?</i>