Azcadelia Rosan
Azcadelia chuckled at Cyrus' question. She found it funny and she didn't know why. Maybe because of the similarity of their teachings; their similarity in so much even though they had only known one another for a couple of hours. She smiled, took another sip on the light wine then spoke, "My mother taught me as well. The teachings weren't as hardened as yours, they were more delicate, patient and understanding. My mother's name was Caitlyn. Imagine me but older, shorter and wiser. My mother was a smart woman but how she came to become the mistress of that man," she said, spiteful towards her father, "is a mystery to me."
Azcadelia took a breath to recompose herself to continue her tale in a less biased state. "Mother starting my teachings at a young age, I was seven if I recall. Though the initial starting of my training was rocky because of my father's constant relocation of our family, it eventually stabilized enough for her to teach me without disturbance. We'd travel to the basement of our cottage home. I'd watch her weave the spells of fire, air, earth and water. She was a master of her time but never capitalized on her ability. She could have just as easily gained her independence and left my father in swiftness. But, I guess, their love was strong. Mother never forced me to do anything I wasn't ready for - but the catch was, she decided when I was ready. Not I," Azcadelia took a breath to continue her tale. "She told me that thanks to my determination, headstrong attitude and no nonsense ways that fire would be my best element and ally. The way it's used in aggressive negotiation and even more aggressive combat was the way I liked to fight. Water felt too girly, not strong enough. Earth felt too defensive, not offensive enough. Air felt too flimsy, not solid enough. But fire, fire was me. Fire could be used as a defensive but even more powerful offensive, in the right hands."
Azcadelia took a swig of her drink to loosen her lips more. She began again, this time talking with hands, facial expessions and her body. "My mother could do this trick where she'd make a wall of fire that could deflect some of the most powerful moves. She'd then turn that wall of fire into a laughing, fire breathing serpent. It was the most spectacular thing I had ever seen.
"When I had watched my mother in duels she'd use the most elegance to cast. She'd flip, twirl and pirouette with ease, whilst casting an arsenal of powerful moves and weak multi-chained combos. She'd weaken her opponents before unleashing her signature move: a rain of cataclysmic meteors. A combination of earth and fire that I had never seen before. My eyes were wide and my soul was star struck. It was unbelievable," Azcadelia shook her head in awe, a smile involuntarily coming to her face. She was filled with the same childish awe that she had felt at the arena. Azcadelia laughed more to herself than Cyrus, it was a laugh of pity towards her own skill.
"She died before she could teach me all that she had known, I had to teach myself. Now, I'm not even a fourth of the mage she is," Azcadelia felt tears swelling on the cups of her eyes. "My goal is the be as good as she while keeping her ideals of order, selflessness and prosperity in mind. She wiped the tears away with her thumb and exhaled a breath before looking to Cyrus. "You must think of me as a mess by now. Heh, I'm a fool to be sharing such sacred information with you. It's the drinks no doubt," she said, using the last bit as an excuse was even more foolish when the truth was apparent.
