A Religion
Anastasia's wings stretched behind her, the dark gray clouds setting an ominous feel about them. White magical glow danced around them as the storm whirled above them. A few beats of the wings boomed and she shot in the air. She hovered a few meters from the ground and continued to stay there with wings still flapping encased in the silvery lights of her magic.
"Anastasia!" Ileus called her. He wanted her to come out of it. The magic consumed her energy to the extent that she could lose consciousness. He had to force her to withdraw her magic.