small_magics | what brings you here?

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

wildlymagical

"I'll remember that," says Lycaelon. "Thanks. Anyway, where were we? Centaurs?"

From:

small_magics

"Yes."

From:

wildlymagical

"Right. After that is when I hiked up to the Lost Lands..."

And spent most of a year there, working both magically and physically to help life return to the mage-blasted ground. There are no thinking creatures in the Lost Lands anymore, although he says he found the ruins of several old villages - human, if he's any judge, and abandoned for hundreds of years at a bare minimum.

"It was the best time of my life. I want to go back someday," he says, smiling wistfully. "I know I'm probably more use as a healer, but clearing fouled springs and herding lost rainclouds with a mountain range between me and the nearest settlement suits me much better."

From:

small_magics

"Hopefully you will not find your time in this village too crowded for comfort."

From:

wildlymagical

He shrugs.

"I survived Armethalieh. This is easy in comparison. Although that reminds me - have you noticed that almost everything on this island is poisonous, venomous, or both? The whole balance of life here is strange."

From:

small_magics

"Not everything is," says Isibel. "But I had noticed, yes. Nothing harmful will come into the village; most of it is not inclined to attack outside of it either."

From:

wildlymagical

"I'll see if it needs any help while I'm here," he decides.

From:

small_magics

"That is kind of you. Mind that you do not eat anything that will hurt you if you attempt to live off the land. There are booklets available that say what things here are safe to eat."

From:

wildlymagical

"Where can I find one of these booklets?"

From:

small_magics

"You ask the village. You can also ask it for food, if you had not noticed, but it does not deliver into the wilderness."

From:

wildlymagical

"...Ask... the village?"

From:

small_magics

"It's part of the enchantment. It looks after the people in it. It would have fed you without being asked if you had run out of food, but it otherwise waits." She touches the wall of his house. "Please bring one of the wilderness pamphlets. And a plate of cookies."

Presently his window opens itself and in floats a tray with a pamphlet and assorted desserts. Isibel takes a cookie from the top of the plated heap and bites it.