Axel watched the two interact, his eyes turning into a silvery color with amusement. Just like the Dimir, the dark elves were few and far apart. While they were, for the most part, an established race, they held to the mountains of the polar ice caps and the mountainous regions. Few dared to traverse small towns much less cities for the fear of 'contamination.'
"She's a paradox," he commented thoughtfully. "To be able to command both light and dark must be quite the ability." He snapped his fingers and a tongue of fire settled above the tip of his index finger. The warm orange glow turned his face a light peach color. And the tip of a silvery strand of hair, like a marionette's wire, delved into it, and lit itself. However, the hair itself did not burn. "I've been accused of arson," he said with a conspiratorial wink. "But I'm quite fond of my earthen abilities." The strand pulled apart, the separate tips all alight with the magically forged flame, fanned around in the image of a thin flower. The flame died out and strands of hair retreated back into the bun. It was an ability he learned to do himself. Rather than to keep his magic focused on elemental things, he'd found a way to channel it through his body and into his hair. It had become his ultimate physical weapon after years of training [read: trial and error].
Axel shook his hand and he flame disappeared into thin wisps of smoke.
"And the lady's right. The moon may be the dawn of a new day for a shadowmancer but it's quite late for the rest of them." He raised his voice a few decibels, a perfect immiatation of his mothers velvety voice as he quoted her flawlessly. "Women do need their beauty sleep, after all." He couldn't help the grin on his face. It was an ability he used on many people when he was bored in the city. Being androgynous was a blessing sometimes.