Cristol strolled through the section of town that was decreed Betza territory-- not that most, normal humans would know that. It was standard witch policy to keep humans in the dark as much as possible about any witch going-ons, to the point of where, if they could afford it, clans would sometimes be very careful about selling houses, allowing stores to be built, or leasing anything to non-witch members in certain sections of their territory. A potential witch hunt could be even worse than what a clan conflict could bring. Within the Betza territory were many things of affluence. Being a rich clan in general, they often had only the finest of shops and homes built. Along with the clan itself, many of these things were also here for generations... well, up until recently, what with the magic duel her father lost caused the loss of a section of territory. As per agreed, the Betza clan left than land, and who knows what that other clan was doing to that land... Cristol shook her head. She was sure that, when she was strong enough, she'd win it back. She had no reason to believe that she couldn't. Her instructor often commented that she was a strong magic caster for her age, but that she needed to focus her abilities. She remembered her reiterating that prodigies weren't born in a day.