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:

small_magics

"This is much improved," she remarks.

From:

wildlymagical

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

From:

small_magics

"A fair amount."

From:

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.

From:

small_magics

From:

wildlymagical

Concerned: "What is it?"

From:

small_magics

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

From:

wildlymagical

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

From:

small_magics

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

From:

wildlymagical

"I'm so sorry," he murmurs.

From:

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."

From:

wildlymagical

Helplessly: "Do you want a hug?"

From:

small_magics

She nods.

From:

wildlymagical

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

From:

small_magics

Hugs.

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

From:

wildlymagical

Hug hug.

"Why not?" he murmurs back.

From:

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.

From:

wildlymagical

Lycaelon thinks about it.

He thinks about it for a while.

He doesn't stop hugging her.

From:

small_magics

"The King of the Elves knows. Magania - I do not know if you have encountered her; she is sometimes here, she was part of the original colony expedition - knows. My parents. The other dragons. My friends, of course, who don't have Thilanushinyel preconceptions. No one else."

Hug.

From:

wildlymagical

"And... your co-Bonded is a demon," he says softly. "How...?"

From:

small_magics

"They lived together on this island, alone, for thousands and thousands of years. He did not know he was the last until I told him."

From:

wildlymagical

"How is he not evil?"

From:

small_magics

"He is himself, instead. It may have to do with the template. But he is free of taint; he is not even burned by the touch of a unicorn's horn, anymore."