Now that she could focus without distraction, Heila turned all of her attention to the glittering lines of the ritual that was even now consuming the lives of Loman's acolytes.
This wasn't her first time seeing the magic of Oracles, but it was the first time she'd had a chance to see it in a ritual that was simple enough to be understandable, and the differences between the magic of Oracles and the magic of Witches were shocking.
A witch's magic was a natural, living, breathing thing. It moved and flowed, twisted and bent. There were rules, yes, but very little was rigid. If you placed a boulder in a stream, the water would flow around it. Place enough boulders and you could transform a stream into a pond, or divert its course into a new direction, but even then, it was difficult to dictate the new course the stream would take, as water found its own paths of least resistance.
