Jan 21st | 3
“………” Silence was all the teenage Ragna could do for now. Thanks to his Magic!Anons, not only was he stuck at a younger age, but his feelings towards this woman were in a mass jumble. He couldn’t even begin to think about what to say. Should he attack her, since she was the Imperator? See if Saya’s mind was still somewhere there? Run off and try to come back once the spells wore off?
“Uh… I…” Ragna couldn’t have asked for a worse situation. Here he was, stuck as a teen with a weapon too big for him to wield, and the Imperator of the NOL right in front of him. He felt so helpless, both physically and mentally.
The Imperator’s brow furrowed at the sight of him. It was not the man himself that upset her, certainly not, but his form was the cause of much confusion. Really though, she should be thankful that he still had his mismatched eyes and silver hair. If he had presented himself with blond locks and green irises, then…
She shook her head, dismissing the thoughts.
"And what is this? An illusion cast by a specific ars magus?" She glided towards him, garments and hair floating in some magical breeze. "Intriguing, though I must ask: Why? What have you done to yourself, Ragna the Bloodedge." She stopped around a yard in front of him. He was still taller than she was, she noted, though not by much due to his age and her levitation.