- sufficed as an answer alone, but the sheer hatred that rumbled through her low voice when she said what she did next spoke volumes on the view of ‘magic’ back then.

“Of course — back then, it was just called — 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙛𝙩.”

- shortcomings. If he had the trident, well… I had to have some strengths of my own.”

Pouring some potion into an empty bowl, the projected memory’s eyes went wide, and mesmerized by what she saw. Energy overflowing, electricity lighting up her visage.

A small taste of magic.

-

Although, the younger Ursula looked ever so slightly less pleased.

“…and more power…”

The vision seemed to leap ahead in time to a studious young Ursula in her room, reading and flipping pages, mesmerized by the hidden arts of alchemy… and magic.

“So naturally, I had to make up for my own -

- of a much younger Ursula bowing before an unseen figure alongside her brother.

“As the older brother, naturally, he held more responsibilities…”

Bestowed to him, by presumably his own father, the legendary trident, with all of the power of the oceans and more compacted inside.

-

- born…”

The steam seemed to spread like a blanket. Even just vaguely, she could see a small fragment of how even more lavish and shiny Atlantica was in it’s heyday.

“I lived in the palace alongside your father. Family privileges, you understand.”