When Farlight had left (with a suspicious bulge in his trousers that she was sure he would never admit was because of her), Tylarah settled back down onto the bench seat. She still needed more sleep, and it was a long journey up to the portal in Kendal. It was a damned good job it was not too far from the train station there, or she would have gone crazy. She had to get back to her house in Leithwaite, a fairly quiet suburb of Rithran, the magical city where just about every witch on her plane of existence lived.
It was accessible only by portal, as it had been suspended in another dimension by the Mage Lords centuries ago. Tylarah spent a lot of time in the human world for a Witch, she supposed it was because she was so used to living there. She had only recently discovered that she was a Witch, when her powers had been tapped by an argument in her local bar.
It was a complete surprise to her at the time, though looking back now; she could see that she had her powers all through her life. Tylarah was always gifted with being able to start small fires easily and keep the campfire under control but she never guessed that she had the magical control of two elements, which was a rare gift, even among the Magic community. Fire and Wind, hence why she changed her name once she found out. Well, it was tradition in the magical community, and it sounded rather more magical than just "Jennings".
It had scared her when her powers revealed their full extent. She had been arguing with a letch bastard in a bar, after he had been trying to feel her up all night. Tylarah had raised her hand and pointed right in his face while she shouted every reason why men were all worthless at him. The man had virtually wet himself and backed off quickly as she reached the height of her fury. Tylarah had sat back down on her barstool feeling rather proud of herself, once the man had fled from the bar. Putting her hand up to call the barman over and get herself another shot, she had seen her hand. It was glowing with a purple flame like she had never seen before, but it was not burning her hand. It did not even feel any warmer than the rest of the bar. It took her about five more seconds to get out of the bar and back into her car.
Tylarah had sat there for a full half an hour, staring at her hand. The purple flame had disappeared, but she could not help but keep staring in disbelief. She popped out of her trance with a thought, she could not drive home like this, too much drink and a shock of her life would not make her the best driver in the world. So she had climbed out of her car, locked it and hailed a taxi.
Tylarah had returned to her house in what seemed like the blink of an eye, she had threw her handbag on the sofa and sat down heavily beside it, still thinking. The thoughts had been spinning around her head like a blender, mixing together and ending up with a stew of words that only served to confuse her more. She needed something to distract her. Television. She had set the TV blaring, and sat, watching it without taking anything in for Gods-know how long. No matter how hard she tried, she could not think of any sort of explanation for what happened that was even remotely grounded in logic and reason.
Tylarah had still yet to figure out what exactly it was that had brought her out of the trance in front of the television back then. There was just some sort of thing that had clicked in her mind, and told her that she had to get a grip, and listen.
"I suppose it was a bit of a shock," the voice came from behind her, and it was impossibly smooth.