A burst of emerald flames came out of her flesh, painting the room green.
When the fire died out, her wings were whole again. New and perfectly formed feathers now covered the bald spots as if the injury had never been there in the first place.
Everything felt right again, her body familiar, and Tista's heart burst with an intoxicating feeling of joy. She drew more breaths, to not let that joy nor the fire stop.
'I can feel it. I can feel my fire, my blood, and my heart moving in unison. They are one and the same.' She thought. 'What about my mana? Why I don't feel it? Why should it be any different?'
Tista started to weave the runes of the simplest spells she knew with her body, discovering that the method she had used to circulate her mana until that moment was ungraceful and clunky, like dancing with hard shoes.
It was still feasible, but the movements resulted awkward and the constant pain made it hard to enjoy the music.
