Two days after the Hunt had ended, and Elia was still humming with a pleasant amount of extra energy. Kennet had siphoned off the overload that she had taken in, absorbing it for his own purposes. But she could feel it still, thrumming inside her, amplifying her own power if she reached for it even the slightest bit.
She made good use of the effects, putting the extra boost to her shadowmancy to work in her first (and last, although she didn't know it then) performance of the night. It was all smoke and shadows, hints of glitter and flesh showing in the dark – a crowd favorite, if she were to say so herself. The witch bedecked in gold body chains and little else, but with all that bare skin only teased at for the patrons.
She had nearly finished when she glanced up, her eyes skipping over an unexpectedly familiar face toward the back, near the bar. For just a second, Elia faltered, pausing in her dance... and then she finished, only to disappear backstage mid-applause. When she reappeared again, she had wrapped herself in black silk, a long robe belted at the waist, and she was sliding through the crowded tent, making her way toward the place where she had seen...
She hadn't, had she? The Universe wasn't really that fond of a good joke, was it?