"And so, the lesson begins," a sibilant voice, His voice, deep and all-consuming, a hum of authority that slipped from the shapeless mass to form some monstrosity before her. He glided, wraith like, otherworldly, toward her, with fine robes of black that writhed with independent thought, moved by the heavy blanket of magic that oozed from His person so naturally. Each step He took seemed to chase some of the steam-fog away, leaving a split moment of clarity, of pulsating veins of power in the earth before that steam crawled back to cover it. She wondered, with idle fascination, what that was and why, but her attention was split, focused mostly on the gleaming red and the twisting shadows of His gaze as He approached.