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

[wildlymagical]

He snorts and shakes his head.

"So, the Lost Lands," he says, and goes on from there.

[small_magics]

Isibel listens attentively.

She may eventually trust this man enough to say what she has not been saying about her beloved.

[wildlymagical]

He talks for the rest of the day, with a break for lunch, delivered by mysterious flying tray. The progression of his actual journey around the world is the framework for what he's saying, but he frequently goes back and forth when new things remind him of old ones.

And then he says goodnight, and mentions that he thinks he'll take the next morning to hike around the island.

[small_magics]

"I hope you enjoy your hike," says Isibel, and she lets herself out. She designs spells; she has one ready by the wee hours of the morning, teleports to the optimal casting site, and focuses and channels. The Lost Lands will be the better for it, and come back to life at a swifter but gentle pace.

[wildlymagical]

That afternoon, Lycaelon brainphones her.

[I'm back! And I made better tea!]

[small_magics]

[Welcome back.]

Port. Knock.

[wildlymagical]

He opens the door and beckons her inside.

The tea is indeed better today; he followed her advice.

[small_magics]

"This is much improved," she remarks.

[wildlymagical]

"Good!" he says. "I'm glad it worked. So... how much do you know about this island?"

[small_magics]

"A fair amount."

[wildlymagical]

"Because it's amazing," he continues enthusiastically. "It's the most cultivated wilderness I've ever seen. I have no idea how it happened, but I want to meet whoever did it. And maybe kiss them. It's just so—" He opens his hands in a helpless shrug.

[small_magics]

[wildlymagical]

Concerned: "What is it?"

[small_magics]

"I -" She rubs at her eyes. "It's only - yes, the island is amazing."

[wildlymagical]

"It's amazing but I wasn't expecting you to cry over it," he says. "What's wrong?"

[small_magics]

Softly: "I have a co-Bonded. He made it. He is in the other world, with my dragon."

[wildlymagical]

"I'm so sorry," he murmurs.

[small_magics]

"And they - are so close as to be one person, one mind, they have been together so long and began so similar," she says shakily. "And I miss them so much."

[wildlymagical]

Helplessly: "Do you want a hug?"

[small_magics]

She nods.

[wildlymagical]

He gets up and crosses over to her chair and hugs her.

[small_magics]

Hugs.

"I don't usually mention this part," she murmurs.

[wildlymagical]

Hug hug.

"Why not?" he murmurs back.

[small_magics]

"Because - people would not understand if I explained my co-Bonded."

He already has enough clues to guess. The island took thousands of years; no Wildmage or High Mage lives that long, and Isibel is obviously the Elfmage in the group.

[wildlymagical]

Lycaelon thinks about it.



He thinks about it for a while.



He doesn't stop hugging her.