Aszanti sighed , "<span style="color: #00ffff">I apologize , Nyssia. I ....just...the thought of failure has never suited me well  and your success is a measure of mine. " </span>never looking to the girl as she slid back into the chair, seemingly oblivious , or just not caring about the staring eyes around them. She lifted her hand, and casually picked the stray bits of glass that had embedded themselves into the older womans hand.  She was a theatric old fuck, and she bobbed her at at the girls apologies.  The girls lament might have been genuine, but the fact of the matter was: the Highborne didn't care. She would continue to talk down to the girl as she saw fit.<br/><br/>Afterall....she did not spend centuries cooped up in Eldar'Thalas to let some fool girl demand justification.  Even if she was the spitting image of herself at that age...No one demanded anything from her anymore.<br/><span style="color: #00ffff"><br/>
"You will receive your answer when you've cast Arcane Blast one too many times and knock yourself into something pointy and sharp and I find myself lacking an apprentice i'm afraid. " </span>She motioned for the girl to open the book, her tone dying down, she almost seemed scholarly and caring.<span style="color: #00ffff"> "Turn to your bit on diminishing returns. "<br/>
<br/>
"What does it say? You know what, it was so brazenly incorrect that  I will tell -you- what it said, because I want you to hear how stupid it sounds. "</span>There is no ire to her tone, no hate. She almost seems motherly,<span style="color: #00ffff">"If the return rate of arcane blast is 3xs the energy per mana and effort  expelled, it takes exactly  4 charges to become optimum. Where you have made an error is here. "</span>Her perfectly sculpted non bloodied hand points to a section in the book.<span style="color: #00ffff">"At the exchange rate, including an invocation, there are roughly 10 charges of Arcane Blast you can send out before.fatigue sets in, and maybe, of you're disiplined, 14 charges before a recoil. That said, stacking  past..." </span>she taps the number on he page,<span style="color: #00ffff"> "8. Not 10, will be the proper point that recoil will start to.fatigue  you. " </span>She shakes her head,<span style="color: #00ffff"> "You are off by two entire cast cycles my dear. That will likely end you i'm the clinic, or dead</span>. "<br/><br/>She holds her blood soaked hand palm up, offering the girl a seat.<span style="color: #00ffff"> "Now..." </span>she looks around the library once, people settle back into thier stations and head back to thier books. She opens her mouth to speak, then catches sight of someone staring at them. She watches the book slip back into place and can't hide the smirk that fell to her lips. This was going to be fun...<br/><br/><span style="color: #00ffff">"Now, Nys, have you....considered my ... tasteful.....offer made the other day?"  </span>The other day she had been feeling a bit.... peckish.  The girl was only too enticing and the offer she made to the girl....a warm bed and passing grade in return for a little...company seemed fair.<br/><br/>After all, her mistress had offered her the same graciousness when she was a girl.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>