"I can't replace you as easily as all that. Nor your evidence, for that matter."

He lofts an eyebrow at that, slips past Faolan into the room and pads slowly over to the box to examine it. What is it he'd done last time? He isn't sure he'd done much of anything but focus, in truth, but some part of him wants there to be a process to such thing. Magic should surely be cast, not just happen without warning.

(Perhaps if you're a witch it's like that, fae magic is a little less precise of course -- unfortunately for Lancelot.)