Sword Magus
@xcrusadiax
It wasn’t often that the White Fatalis felt any kind of excitement. Yet she was easily able to sense all the hundreds soldiers stationed outside, all across the forest and some even before her cave. Her mountain as one would say. Three energies stood above the rest, one of someone that smelled like Royalty and another that smelled like an Esper hybrid.
“Hmm, I haven’t seen an esper in ages. They did tend to bother me a bit back in the day, so it’s good to see they still live to this day.” Which couldn’t really be said for many other Fatalis and even less so for White Fatalis. Altair might as well be one of the only ones alive.
Still, once they came into her cave, she sat there on a throne, carved out of rock. Crimson and white in appearance, showing that it wasn’t naturally formed, but hand-made. “To what do I owe the the pleasure of your visit, Esper? Many approach me to seek glory, some to witness my beauty, so are you among the latter or the former?”