Her hands were wrapped around the coffee mug, staring into contents of the cup. Through out the telling of her story, Ivara's voice had remained steady, as if she were reciting the history of someone else's life, someone else's tragedy.
Everyday, at 3 pm, Nic sat outside Gotham Elementary School to pick up his ward, Jace Matthews. And everyday he had seen this girl, a brunette with streaks of color in her hair that alternated with the days, walk out of the school, alone, toward the road.
When Nic had asked Jace about the girl, he had reported that she was a transfer student from Hong Kong. Quiet girl. Good, quick learner. No one knew much about her. Nic had decided to investigate, which had landed the odd pair in this o jantar, lanchonete at 8 pm on a Friday night. For the price of a vegetarian burger, fries, and a coffee, the girl had been willing to tell the kind, young, rather handsome stranger her story. She suspected he would think she was crazy and would leave as soon as she finished. Anyway, she would get a meal out of it.
"She told me that the shape-shifters were atuação out of sorts," Ivara continued, "because they had lost their connection with their yang, the half of their souls that would go to the spirit world in death. They no longer had consciences, which is why they were able to do such horrible things, like slaughter all those people." She swallowed a hard breath here. "The reason they were attacking the villages, killing all the kids, was because the only way the connection could be recreated was through a young child, one from a village that had retained a connection to the spirit world through the stories told to us por our elders.
"And that's exactly what the queen needed my help with. She wanted me to become the vessel of the connection."
Ivara pushed up the sleeves of her turtleneck up to her elbows. Now exposed were the marks along her arms. They were like dark tolet, violet veins, except they didn't follow the usual map. The tattoo-like-markings trailed from her wrists, wrapped around her forearms, and disappeared into the sleeves.
"They cover my entire boy, every limb. They're scars that mark me as the connection between the worlds. I.. Can see the spirits of others, their auras. Their emotions, intentions, their very being."
Nic would have asked what he looked like to her, but there was a bigger perguntas he had in mind. "How did you end up in Gotham?"
"The spirit taught me how to use my powers. Or at least, the basics of them. Then one dia she.." Ivara's voice faltered, and Nic finally saw a spark of emotion in her dark eyes, "Disappeared. There was nothing left for me in China, so I decided to try my luck in the west and changed my name. That was a ano ago."
"The basics of them?"
Ivara looked up, refocusing on the present. "What? Oh.. Yes. I think I could do mais than just see or sense the auras. Maybe... Manipulate them, control the subject of the aura. I've already learned to use the wandering auras in the air to support me."
"So you can fly," Nic summed up. "And you want to learn how to be telekinetic."
"That's one way to put it."
The fire-caster leaned back in the leather seat. He studied the young girl in front of him who sat with her shoulders hunched, hair falling in her face in a curtain, as if doing her best to seem small, insignificant to the world. She was naive, hopeful, reserved, shy, intelligent, immature, and most certainly mais than a little dangerous.
And he saw the potential.
"Ivara, I would like to make you an offer."

Sorry if this seems rushed or discombobulated. I promise that I tried to make it as clear as possible.