[Elsevana's POV]
She stepped back, her body tense with nervous energy. Even in her astral form—that projection of self that elves and fairies used to traverse the archives—I could see her aura clearly. It flowed through her like a river of light: deep red at its core, threaded with veins of gold and white.
Her mana moved in ways I had never witnessed. Gentle. Warm. Alive with something I couldn't name.
She had no pointed ears. A human, then? But humans could not possess mana—not unless they were Thaumamorphs. I studied her more carefully, reaching out with my senses. No dark aura. No dark mana. No taint of corrupted magic. Whatever she was, she was clean.
Only fairies and elves could enter these archives. Perhaps she was a fairy in disguise—elemental fairies could render parts of themselves invisible, including their wings. But I sensed no wings at all. And she was certainly not a half-breed; the mingling of human and fairy left traces I would have detected.
