Iason vs.
Iason drew the attention of Morgan LeFay like a magnet. His very form was entrenched in power, even more than the Asgardian, in his way. He could make an excellent thrall, or at least a meal.
A diversion, to set the mood, and hopefully imbalance him.
She kisses her fingertips and blows an icy breath across them. Flecks of energy, no larger than dust at first, bloom into a flying horde of imps, which swarm the Eternal.
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