not_ur_mother
In a world full of...interesting abilities, Isla finds her own talent painfully mediocre.
Spell casting is at the lower end of things, power-wise. And her generationally powerful family does not let her forget that fact.
So when she's faced with the opportunity to train with the most talented people in the world, Isla is desperate to take it.
•••
Beckett stares at me, unable to look away.
Literally.
"Isla, I swear to everything I believe in, if you don't undo this-"
Blushing profusely, I flip through my spell book, trying to find something that will reverse my misspoken casting. "I'm looking, be patient!"
"My eyes are drying out! You be patient!" He steps closer, bending down to block my view of the book, trying to creep my out with his wide, unblinking eyes.
Despite myself, I let out a barked laugh, pushing his head away, "I'm sorry! Hold on!"
"I'm sorry," he mocks in a squeaky voice, his hands flailing around animatedly. "You were supposed to be fixing my eyes, not making them worse!"
"I found it!" I slam my finger to the entry triumphantly.
He drops onto the chair, muttering, "You'd think you'd have that one memorized by now. Considering how many times you've messed me up with your spells."
Offended, I scowl at him, "You don't have to participate!"
Still staring at me with wide, unblinking eyes, he smiles, looking like a psychopath. "But then I'd be bored."
I scowl, unsettled, "Okay, Happy the Clown, let's fix your face."