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Bastian is a throwback to some many-times-great-grandparent who had that flavor of magic, but he’s successfully hidden it his entire life. He appears to be holding air, but it’s just a physical representation of what his magic is doing. Her chalk becomes an extension of her arm, her wrist fluid as she draws out the symbols that will wrestle the magic into following her will. He’ll step up once he finally stops believing the fiction that he’s merely a worthless second son.