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The sound of her alarm blaring across the room was causing the Aspect to groan in return as she muttered under her breath in Russian before evidently closing the alarm. “God…” she hissed and massaged her temples as her blue hues stared at the ceiling above her. Malva had a pounding headache from last night and thankfully it was because of the bottles inside her room.
It was the first time Mal actually drunk her sorrows away since 120 years ago. Ever since she met Sebastian again at the citadel in Greece, she has been more anxious than ever. She got her magic back, so that’s good news but the bad news is that now she still couldn’t control them. Getting your magic back without having the control is dangerous.
After she took her shower and got dressed, the Aspect of Magic came downstairs and went straight to the Archives located in the underground, after getting her coffee. She walked in with ease after the doors opened itself to her, even when she was struggling with her magic previously, she still had her signature and that was more than enough to trigger it. She put her coffee on the table and started scanning the books in the aisles, bringing a few to the table as she tried to find any answer to recovering what she had.
She didn’t even notice the hours passing by. By the time she noticed someone else coming in, it was already half past 5, meaning she has been there for the past 4 hours and with dozens of books, bringing not one solution or hint to her persisting problem. “There must be something I missed…” she mumbled softly and buried her face into the book. She was tired.
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When she came to the Archives after being away from the very place she helped created, she was hoping to find an answer; a solution to her never-ending problems. Or at the very least, a hint. Something to help her go by. Unfortunately, for the Aspect of Magic, that does not seem to be the case for today. Despite going through endless books, Malva found nothing. Nothing at all.
She could feel the presence of another close by, which she assumed to be the librarian and guardian of the Archives herself; Penelope. "Not anymore" she mused, she might have gotten loose with her abilities back then but it's back at her now, fully charged. The problem is just that the signature was no longer hers. Or rather, it is still hers but modified anew. Something of the past and a little bit of the present and future. If there was anything Malva hated most, it's that she was no longer in control of anything. Especially if it involves her life. "I've been having a little bit of a problem a while ago, but it's no longer that problem. I fear it's something new, however..." There was no pain to share her problems with someone who had a similar mind, was there?
Penelope is an outstanding diviner, and Mal should hope that she is every bit of her father's daughter. The man was someone she respected and he had spent a long time with the Aspect of Magic herself, even when they were in the Isle of Skye. She turned to look at the female and sighed "The imbalance was great, and it has affected my powers ever since. I went on a small pilgrimage with Octavia to the citadel I once governed, in Greece. I was hoping that by reconnecting with nature itself, it might... help me. Long story short, I met an old friend, and he helped me... somewhat." It was an understatement to say Sebastian helped her, he basically unlocked the parts of which she held back, and thus gave her the control she once lost.
But upon doing so, he had also helped unlock the part she so desperately kept away and now with no locks nor filters to censor whatever was lost, Malva is a mix of the past, present and future. Which could be dangerous if she continues to struggle with the sudden surge of abilities returned to her. "Nothing in these books stated how to help someone back from... rehabilitation." She pressed her lips together and stared at Penelope with a newfound sense of sympathy for herself and asking for help "If I lose control again... well things won't be nice. And it's hard to control them." She grumbled to herself and buried her face into the books "I'm a walking time bomb. Or if we want to be specific, nuclear."
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