They didn't glow or radiate heat. They were just perfect, three-dimensional silhouettes of waterfowl.
Seraphina flicked her finger.
The three shadow-ducks sprang to life instantly.
One of them waddled over to Castor, hopped onto his knee, and let out a perfectly silent quack. Another waddled over to Pollux, hopped onto the bench, and stared at the edgy pre-teen with blank, dark eyes.
"Whoa," Castor breathed, gently poking the shadow-duck on his knee. His finger didn't pass through it; it felt cold, dense, and perfectly solid. "This is... this is insane control. You didn't even chant any spell."
Pollux stared at the shadow-duck beside him.
He looked at the perfect, precise manifestation of dark mana, and then looked at the six-year-old girl sitting on the fountain.
The last remaining shreds of his edgy arrogance evaporated, replaced by genuine respect. He realized that the tiny girl didn't need to quote bad poetry about the abyss. She commanded it to make balloon animals.
