For several seconds, the feathered Serpentes simply stared at Sylas.
His mind seemed to stall as he tried to understand who the young mortal could possibly be speaking to with that tone, because there was only one existence in this entire region who would warrant such a command. When the answer finally clicked into place, his expression shifted for the first time.
"Nosphaleen?" His voice remained polite despite the disbelief beneath it. "Surely you aren't speaking to the Goddess?"
Sylas ignored him.
The feathered Serpentes raised an eyebrow, waited another moment, then chuckled as though Sylas' silence had confirmed some private joke. "I suppose when a little mortal finds some fame, arrogance comes quickly, though perhaps I should thank Gentrixaul for causing such an enormous disturbance."
His emerald-gold feathers bristled gently.
"Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to use even this little ten percent of my strength down here."
The skies changed.
