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]

"Yes. Perhaps on your hike you saw the unicorn statues."

[wildlymagical]

"A few of them."

[small_magics]

"I saw those first. And I knew that whoever had made them loved that unicorn. And then I saw my beloved - the smaller of the two - and I did not run away."

[wildlymagical]

"Wow," murmurs Lycaelon.

[small_magics]

"We had no common language. I had to teach him. And he told me what was and was not safe to eat, of the plants and animals he had made."

[wildlymagical]

"...That definitely explains the booklets."

[small_magics]

"Yes. It also explains some of the fruits that the elves who live here like so much, if you have seen those. He made them. He likes to make custom fruit for people."

[wildlymagical]

"I haven't noticed the custom fruits. But I'll keep an eye out now that you've mentioned it."

[small_magics]

"He has not made any specifically intended for humans that are here in this world, although the elf fruits will be safe for you if you want to try them."

[wildlymagical]

"I might as well."

He has stopped hugging her, but he has not yet gone back to his own chair; he stands by hers.

[small_magics]

"This is," she adds, "why they left the world. One of my alts wanted plants and animals on a planet that had none of its own."

[wildlymagical]

"...And he can do that?"

[small_magics]

"Yes. Even on a planet so unlike our own. It is full of beautiful life, now."

[wildlymagical]

"I want to see that someday."

[small_magics]

"Someday perhaps you will. You are immortal now."

[wildlymagical]

"Yeah. I guess I am."

[small_magics]

"My beloved has shown me what he has done with the planet in our shared thoughts. I could conjure illusions, if you wished to see."

[wildlymagical]

"Sure."

[small_magics]

She squares up illusions of some of her favorite organisms that now live on Saturn.

[wildlymagical]

"Amazing," says Lycaelon.

"...What does he look like?"

[small_magics]

Isibel hesitates, but conjures up a picture of both her beloveds, side by side. Ansharil is a scale model.

[wildlymagical]

He flinches slightly when he sees the demon. But only slightly.

"They're beautiful."

[small_magics]

"They are," she sighs, resting her chin on her hands and looking at them.

[wildlymagical]

Lycaelon hugs her again.

[small_magics]

Hug.

"I miss them so much," she murmurs. "And they miss me - but at least there are more of them in the world they are in, for company."

She looks at the illusions a moment longer, then dismisses them and shuts her eyes.