"Hm?"
The lengvi's brow furrowed with frustrated fascination as she pushed her glasses back up her long nose, made crooked in her youth from tussles with classmates, to get a better look at the glowing swirl of symbols around the steadily expanding doorframe.
"Spatial manipulation alone is exceedingly difficult magic on it's own, much less as a single mage without supports. But to twist matter without distorting the integrity of the material, and isolate the area of disturbance so finely as well, is... It's unheard of."
The lengvi's tone hid none of her amazement, save for the confusion that such technical speak could bring to any space outside a classroom... As the bewildered expression of the poor woman being questioned conveyed.
The lengvi's brow then unfurrowed as she cleared her throat. "How did you come by this magic, who is your master?"
"Oh, I just picked it up from work," she said cheerfully, and beckoned the lamia to slither through the magically widened doorway. Then, let free a soft exhale and dropped her arms as they passed through.
The stream of gleaming symbols from her hand gradually puttered out in turn; as they did the wood around the frame shrank, though did not move, and floor slid back into place without disturbing the dust on its threshold.
"Work?" The lengvi murmured, enraptured to the point of distraction again by the feat of control her comrade displayed. "I thought you were den mother of the pub over yonder by day?"
"Aye! I handle our patrons who're more gifted than can be handled comfortably by most." She rested her hands on her hips over her sword belt, and smiled proudly.
A long moment passed between the two women while the lengvi worked the implication of the taller woman's words out through decades of heavily abstracted magical study.
Then suddenly, it clicked.
"Wait, that's how you fucked that dragon?"