And Neese knew the feeling of his own magic. It's energy reaching out to him in tendrils, he couldn't see, but he could feel it... and he caressed the unseen currents with his fingers, twig and leaf like appendages rustling as he did so.
"Ahh... at last," Neese said, "Valerain Torverath." He grinned, something both gleeful and dangerous. He tilted his head then, curious, and moved closer to the figure huddled under the desk. "They've devised a way to... see it, for you, yes?" He chuckled softly. "I wonder how they think that might help you." They yes certainly, because this one couldn't have done it himself. He didn't have the gift.
"To you," he said, moving closer still, and observing the boy's fear with open curiosity, "I am Lord Arlan, of the Fae Court, the Oath Maker, and you have been bound into one of my contracts." He waved his hand threw the dark swirls, even though Neese couldn't see them, he could feel the currents of his own magic, their energy was a small part of him after all. "You may also call me Neese, as I am here to reveal to you to conditions of the contract into which you have been bound, and offer you a choice." That was rather cryptic and un-revealing, however; Arlan wasn't bothered by it, and frankly, neither was Neese. He never lied, but that didn't mean he wasn't, quite often, deceptive.