what brings you here?

[small_magics]

Isibel lives in her enchanted village, in a hollowed and conveniently-shifting great tree. She travels from it frequently, when she has a new enchantment or elfspell designed that will help someone, or when she meets with the leaders of this or that culture to learn more about their needs, or when someone accepts her offer of torching. The population of Thilanushinyel is not as large as that of Origin, and it may even contain fewer political units, but certainly there are more species; she has a steep learning curve and she throws herself into it.

Today, she is at home. She is not in deep meditation, but she might look like it, eyes closed, floating crosslegged in the air, not paying attention to the weight of the clothes on her body or the wreath of sunny yellow-berried blue-leafed holly resting on her hair, just thinking about hurricanes and the most efficient way to prevent them from forming over the sea. (She can channel immense spells. She is not sure how immense, and it would be very dangerous to lose hold of one. She retains some concern for limiting the size of her enchantments.)

When she is busy with something she cannot interrupt, her door is locked. Today it is not. There were no hurricanes when she last checked, and if any form in the next few hours, she will be able to address them on the spot, she knows; this spell is not urgent on that scale.

If anyone needs her they may come in.

Comments

[small_magics]

She is unfazed. "Wildmages ask for a spell, and get it, in exchange for a task that is revealed only during or after the spell's completion. I do not say the Wild Magic is unfair in its requests, particularly, only that I do not operate as it does and would do my best to avoid taking the services of anyone who did not know they were agreeing to provide them."

[pythbox]

"But that's what being a Wildmage is," he says. "If I didn't like it, I could always give up my Books. Or turn to the Dark. I didn't have to come all this way. There's always a choice. Three choices. Once when you do the spell, once when you find out what the price is, and once when it comes time to pay it."

[small_magics]

"Very limited choices are not the kind of choices I distribute, when I have the freedom to do otherwise," says Isibel patiently. "Someone held at knifepoint and given orders may also have a choice; I do not wish to be a knife if I can avoid it. Although I do strongly advise against turning to the Dark."

[pythbox]

"You're not much of a saint," he observes.

[small_magics]

"I did not solicit the title. I only call myself Isibel Sarion."

[pythbox]

He shrugs.

"So do you want my help or not?"

[small_magics]

"I do not know what you have to offer," she points out.

[pythbox]

"The Wild Magic didn't send me here just to argue with you about how good at consent it is," he says. "There's something I can help you with. I just don't know what. And there has to be a better way to find out than standing here telling you my life story until you say 'aha! If only you'd mentioned two hours ago that you've been to the Selken Isles!'."

[small_magics]

"If you have been there, that may in fact be useful. Much of my time these days is spent in learning what people need, so that I can think of ways to supply it, and there are many sorts of people in the world."

[pythbox]

"Yeah, and I've met most of them."

[small_magics]

"Then that seems the obvious place to start. I would hear anything you would tell me about what I can do for far-flung peoples I have not yet spoken to."

[pythbox]

Lycaelon considers this.

Then he says, "That's going to take a while. I mean, on the order of weeks. Where can I stay while we're talking about it?"

[small_magics]

"This village is not full. It will show you to a place you may stay."

[pythbox]

"It will show me?"

[small_magics]

"Yes. It will rearrange itself so that where you walk will be the correct direction. I can accompany you, if you prefer."

[pythbox]

"That... would be nice," he says, looking slightly unsettled. "Why does the village do that? Did you make it that way? How does it work?"

[small_magics]

"I did make it that way. I am unsure what sort of explanation for it you would find satisfactory." She sets her feet on the floor and makes for the door. "You might have noticed that it was not difficult to find my tree."

[pythbox]

"Of course it wasn't; I was following my Mageprice," he says, stepping out of the tree.

[small_magics]

"It would have taken longer to follow your Mageprice if the village were not enchanted. It is less than a square mile going by circumference, but contains considerably more interior than that would suggest." She picks a direction; plants subtly bend out of the way.

[pythbox]

Lycaelon follows her.

"Okay, so back to how it works," he says. "It's magic. What kind? How did you make it?"

[small_magics]

"It's called 'enchantment'. I received the ability to use this, and another, kind of magic from distant friends of mine."

[pythbox]

"...I have more questions now than I did before you said that," he observes.

[small_magics]

"That is all right. I am unusual among elves in that I am not bothered by being asked questions."

[pythbox]

"I noticed that! What friends, how distant, why aren't you asking them about the needs of far-flung peoples, how come I've never heard of this kind of magic before, how did you make the village?"

[small_magics]

Isibel laughs. They come to an empty house, which is presented to them directly enough that it must be an empty one suitable for Lycaelon to stay in. She opens the door and gestures that he may enter. "If you would like, I can sit with you and discuss it, since you will be helping me." (The house will be his for the duration of his stay; she won't just walk in.)