OoC: Sorry for the wait. And crappiness. Being sick makes everything worse.

BiC:

“Oh, well... I knew this wouldn't be a peaceful chapter, but it'll be okay. I'm confident in my winning of this battle... even if I don't particularly want to fight this young man.” Meghana had quickly picked up her accessories along with the spoon from earlier, “Convenient.”

The illusionist turned her attention to her opponent. He sounded rather righteous with his forgiving words, but she paid him no mind. This was nothing compared to some of her stories... stories of wonderment and contests very much unlike this one. Still, even if she didn't care she was being against this boy, the dragon tamer wouldn't mind administering some pay back to the people who'd forced her in such a situation.

Snapping back to reality as a sharp spike of ice was pointed toward her wouldn't leave her with the best counterattack possibilities, but Meghana made do with what she had. In this case, that was a spoon.

She planted herself on the floor, paying absolutely no mind to her opponent, he didn't matter for the time being. Her mind was racing, thinking up an idea, a scheme if you will. It had to be excellent, brilliant, unlike anything she'd done before. Then, as though a light bulb had been turned on, making those obscure thoughts visible, the idea hit her, quite literally.

In her state of thinking, the man in charge of this event found this to be some sort of protest. A button was pressed, her lungs constricted, and her eyes grew wide with pain. As rapidly as it had been induced, the pain resided. Once her breath had returned, the illusionist couldn't help but bark out at them, “Hey, give me time to think, will you?”

But this temporary feeling of suffering had brought about a revelation. She placed the spoon on the floor, readying herself for another simple transformation.

The words appeared in front of her, before she could even begin to speak them. This time, she strayed away from poetry.

“The pain of a thousand ages... What would the world do with this? Lock it up, through away the key, and never speak of it again? My magic, this spoon, the pain...”

As the words stopped forming, they became solid and crumbled away, letter by letter. They fell on the spoon, battering it, shattering it. The small fragments lay there, untouched. A few seconds passed, and finally a reaction came.

A bright light escaped them, emanating, wave after wave of color. The warriors were reduced to shielding their eyes from the blast. The light dissipated. All that was left in the light's stead were several, foot long, thin spikes.

Puzzled, Meghana looked upon the shards of metal, “Huh? This isn't what I wanted. Since when have I been good with ninja weapons?”

Still, now was a good time to learn.