where shall i begin?

[small_magics]

Isibel is without her loves, her mints, her enchannels.

She does have a coin stash. A reasonably large one, in her beloved's shifting geode colors, and a few in the higher denominations imported from Rainbow; she can make small ones herself. And she is still linked to her beloveds - she can still access Ansharil's magic, is still a functional elfmage.

And unlike any other Bell cast adrift without her convenient masochist(s), Isibel can enchant alone. It's the simplest application of hyperfocus: contemplate her spell and wake up again with it complete. Channeling through oneself leaves no lingering discomfort after the initial burst, and she can fail entirely to attend to that initial burst.

And -

She is reasonably well recovered from her earlier breakage.

It seems to her that it is time to do some... Belling, although she has not yet decided how to start.

She teleports from her folded-in-on-itself enchanted village to the town in which Magania resides, and there she looks for the other elf, who has given such good counsel in the past and already knows of the features of Bells.

Comments

[small_magics]

He knows why she might say that. She regards him impassively right back.

[pythbox]

The tea is ready.

He pours it.

[small_magics]

Isibel drinks some tea.

[pythbox]

So does the king.

Liselen swishes his tail and eyes the tray of cakes.

[small_magics]

Isibel offers him another cake.

[pythbox]

Liselen noms it.

[small_magics]

"By matters of particular importance I primarily mean large magical projects or suggestions that anyone's loved ones be put to death. I have no particular complaints with your day-to-day governance," Isibel clarifies after a silence.

[pythbox]

"Large magical projects are a matter for the Wild Magic," says Andoreniel. "As, it seems, are your loved ones."

[small_magics]

Isibel smiles thinly.

[pythbox]

Andoreniel sips his tea.

[small_magics]

Ah, tea, that indispensable social lubricant.

[pythbox]

"I will," he says, "consider all that you have told me."

[small_magics]

"That is good to know. Since," she adds magnanimously, "the dragons presently reside within elven borders, perhaps you would like to know that I mean to offer their population and their Bondmates both the kind of immortality I already possess, and a means of addressing some of their population constraints."

[pythbox]

"I am sure," says Andoreniel, "that the dragons will be pleased."

Liselen swishes his tail.

[small_magics]

Tea. Sip sip.

[pythbox]

Sip sip.

[small_magics]

"This is a fine leaf, and finely brewed," comments Isibel.

[pythbox]

Andoreniel nods. "The teas of autumn have been particularly fine this year."

[small_magics]

"Autumn tea has always been my favorite."

[pythbox]

"Each tea is best enjoyed in its own season," says Andoreniel, "but I find for the most part my taste runs to the teas of summer. They have a lightness to them which I find pleasing."

[small_magics]

Some amount of inane tea talk later, the tea is gone.

"My next stop is with the dragons," Isibel remarks.

[pythbox]

"I am sure they will be pleased to see you," says Andoreniel.

[small_magics]

"Liselen, I would be much obliged if you would accompany me," Isibel adds to the unicorn.

[pythbox]

"Sure!" he says brightly.

[small_magics]

Isibel inclines her head to the King, and she brings herself and Liselen to the cave that her beloveds once lived in.