Mikhail's eyes narrowed, his pulse a thunderous drum in his ears as he felt his magic surge through his veins. It was a wildfire, burning hotter, hotter, and that terrible smirk stretched across his face, wide and wicked.
The smoke began to clear, not from his doing — but from a slow, resonant clap of hands. The air trembled with each ringing sound, and as the haze dissipated, they came into view.
First, there was the girl. She was floating, languidly, her dark eyes half-lidded with disinterest as she hugged a massive pillow to her chest. Her skin was a warm, tawny gold, marred by scales that shimmered like obsidian, catching the dim light. A single black, bat-like wing sprouted from her back, twitching as she floated lazily in the air.
