what are you doing here?

[small_magics]

Isibel has never seen an odder collection of fauna. She has not traveled extensively, but she is sure that creatures of this size - lizards as heavy as ten elves together, beavers eight and nine feet long, turtles with shells the size of small houses - are not customary. Yet the island is riddled with them.

The creatures have no particular fear of elves, but nor do they seek them, and none of her party have been attacked; she feels safe enough traveling through the forest on her own, stepping lightly, looking for the sweep of the treeline and any springs that might be useful for settlers if elves settle here. Besides, she is a student of the small magics, some of which may be cast quite rapidly if there is need; she could frighten away an animal that took too much interest in her. The ribbons tied around each of her knees and ankles (blending seamlessly with the rest of her travel outfit) are some of her finest small magic, guiding her steps so that she may place her feet as elves ought to be able to and bring no embarrassment to her House. They don't make her truly graceful, but she can walk, and care will do the rest.

She's deep into the forested part of the Unknown Island when she starts finding statues. Old statues. The trees have grown up around them, it looks like, they've been here that long; they're worn and weathered and have lichen growing on them.

And they're all of unicorns.

The oldest sculptures are none too skillful, but as she proceeds inward towards the center of the island, they become newer and better and it's plain to see that they're not of unicorns, but a unicorn. A unicorn with a broken horn; this is not, it soon becomes apparent, random damage to early statues. Someone has carved a specific unicorn, dozens - hundreds? thousands? - of times. And the art has been made with such intense love, and the newest of the statues are so delicately done that they look almost like real unicorns, with all the magic that implies, though they hold still and are on closer inspection all still carved from stone.

Someone loved this unicorn, and lived on this island, and made a thousand statues of her, and now the place is inhabited only by giant animals that certainly could have done no such thing. Isibel wonders what happened to the sculptor. To the unicorn, too.

On she walks.

Comments

[small_magics]

"The sculptor certainly remembered her with great fondness," Isibel points out, indicating this statue and those visible farther into the woods with a gesture.

[pythbox]

"As it was told to me," says Magania, "the story of Tialle says that her horn was broken when she was captured by our ancient enemy."

[small_magics]

Isibel considers how to respond to this.

She settles on: "I am not surprised."

[pythbox]

Magania nods.

"A detail not commonly told with the rest of the story," she continues, "is that one of Them, imprisoned with her, helped Tialle to escape from Shadow Mountain."

[small_magics]

"One of Them who would take such action, did Tialle go on to live the rest of her life not betrayed back into Their hands, would be an unconventional sort."

[pythbox]

"She did," murmurs Magania. "And he was. Tialle often told her children that she continued to think of him fondly until the end of her life."

[small_magics]

If Isibel were still seven years old she could just say do you want to meet him?

She is not still seven years old. (If she were, she wouldn't be here; the elves on this expedition are many of them young but none of them children.)

"I believe he and the sculptor may be one and the same."

[pythbox]

"I believe this also," says Magania. "And I believe that everyone's interests would be best served did we remain the only people on this island who knew as much. You mentioned a Bondmate. From what little I know of Their magic, with that kind of power at his command Tialle's friend could at need cause the seas to rise and swallow this island whole. I would rather he did not perceive such a need, at least not while we are all still on it."

[small_magics]

"I do not believe he wishes us harm. I am myself unharmed," Isibel points out. "But certainly any reasonable person will defend himself, if attacked."

[pythbox]

Magania nods.

"I have also made some study of the old languages," she says. "It is possible I could converse with Tialle's friend, if we could be made known to each other without alarming him."

[small_magics]

"Perhaps if we continue on a bit, he will hear me if I call. I believe he is with his dragon, now, and I do not much wish to keep the dragon's company," murmurs Isibel, and she proceeds through the forest.

[pythbox]

Magania follows quietly.

[small_magics]

When they reach the spot where Isibel stopped when she bolted from the dragon, Isibel calls in the direction of the cave. "Hello! I've come back!"

[endragoned]

The demon's voice answers, "Isibel?"

[small_magics]

"Yes, it's Isibel."

[endragoned]

"Isibel!" he repeats, and says some more things.

[pythbox]

Magania says some things back.

[endragoned]

There is a splutter, and then he appears in the middle distance, staring incredulously at both of them.

He asks Magania a question.

[pythbox]

She winces genteelly, but provides an answer that includes her name, then waits.

[endragoned]

He makes a gesture that encompasses the two elves and asks her something else.

[pythbox]

Looking increasingly uncomfortable, but making a valiant effort to conceal it, Magania answers again.

[small_magics]

"It might reduce the total amount of offense in this conversation if you told him that elves do not like questions," Isibel suggests softly.

[pythbox]

Magania sighs.

"It is appropriate to set aside the intricacies of etiquette when they become a hindrance in times of urgency."

[endragoned]

The demon speaks again, nervous and impatient. His tail slaps repeatedly against the trunk of a tree next to him.

[pythbox]

Magania replies in soothing tones.

She mentions Tialle.