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

[pythbox]

Magania answers him, smiling slightly and shaking her head.

[small_magics]

"It seems that it might be a productive use of my visits to teach him the modern tongue," offers Isibel, when no translation of this latest exchange is forthcoming.

[pythbox]

"I agree," says Magania, and offers the demon a translation of these words.

[endragoned]

He nods several times.

[small_magics]

"After all, translation is burdensome and you have more demands on your time than I," Isibel says.

(She does not like that so many things have been left out.)

[pythbox]

"That is true," Magania agrees, "and I thank you for considering it."

[small_magics]

"Perhaps I should remain here, and make use of what light remains for that purpose, as undoubtedly your explanations to the others about why they ought not enter the forest will be more eloquent than mine," Isibel says.

[pythbox]

"Wise words from one so young," Magania says dryly, and turns to explain this to the demon, and then leaves.

[small_magics]

Isibel finds a good place to sit and opens up her notebook and debates whether to begin with the alphabet - so that she can bring along a book on her next visit and have that as source material - or with drawings and vocabulary words - so that they can have rudimentary conversations quicker. Eventually she decides on the second option. She flips to the early pages of the notebook and starts teaching him the modern words for "unicorn", "elf", and "demon", assuming he's attentive to this exercise.

[endragoned]

The demon sits next to her and applies himself to learning. When he relaxes his wings partway through the lesson, the near one arches over her like a hovering cloak.

[small_magics]

She peers at the wing when it encroaches into her personal space, but as long as it doesn't settle onto her familiarly she'll leave it be. With the obvious nouns established she moves on to other things (the word for "wing"; how to pluralize; creatures with wings "fly" and creatures without wings "walk" and fish "swim"; she's getting noticeably better at doodling with so much practice.)

[endragoned]

That half-arched position seems to be the most comfortable way for him to keep them when he's sitting like this; the other wing is doing the same thing over empty air.

He picks things up very quickly, although he often makes small errors in pronunciation and sometimes mixes up two words.

[small_magics]

Isibel corrects him patiently as she goes, and because he is not an elf and will not be - apparently - mortified by working above his current skill level, she carries on adding new material instead of insisting on repeating what they've already covered. "Sun", "moon", "star", "leaf", "day", "night", "island", "ocean". The sun "rises" and "sets", the moon "grows" and "shrinks" (she's not getting into advanced vocabulary like "wax" and "wane" yet), stars "travel" (and so do boatsful of elves in search of islands. "Boat".)

[endragoned]

He is downright enthusiastic about learning all these things.

[small_magics]

Isibel has never taught a language before, so she's making this up, but she adopts a general strategy of talking to him idly, as though he's a toddler who may understand simple utterances but nothing conceptually difficult, using mostly words she has taught him and - after uttering a sentence with new words - finding ways to go back and teach him those, then repeating her sentence and carrying on. She doesn't ask him questions - of course - but there are gaps when she's making new, increasingly busy little doodles during which he could interject if he so chose.

[endragoned]

He seems to adopt a strategy of speaking in his own language, but dropping in a word from the modern one whenever he knows it. His utterances therefore become progressively more comprehensible, and he is less and less frequently required to fill in the gaps with mime.

[small_magics]

With an arsenal of nouns and some verbs, Isibel moves to prepositions (tree on island, elf in boat, that one poisonous tuber under earth, stars above everything, Bonded pairs with each other, and so on). She's really not sure how to get from here to anything conceptual. Perhaps it will involve theatrical facial expressions or help from Magania.

[endragoned]

Or perhaps the demon will convey through mime that he wants to know the word for that thing they are doing right now with their mouths and one another's ears.

[small_magics]

"We are talking," says Isibel when he has successfully conveyed this curiosity. "I am talking to you, you are talking to me, we are talking to each other."

[endragoned]

"Talking," he says, and grins. "Talking" (something something) "Magaria."

[small_magics]

"Earlier, you were talking to Magaria in your language, and I don't know your language, so she talked to me in my language," Isibel says.

[endragoned]

"Talking," he repeats, nodding. "Talking, I, Magaria, my language. Talking, you, Magaria, your language."

Well, he certainly seems to be grasping the new vocabulary, even if his grammar could use some work.

[small_magics]

"Magaria knows both languages," Isisbel says. "I know only one language." Oh dear, has she neglected numbers? She draws dots, teaches him to count to twenty. "Magaria knows -" Well, Magaria could easily know more than two languages, but for simplicity - "two languages. I know one language."

[endragoned]

"Magaria knows two languages," he repeats. And grins again, and says, "I know one language."

[small_magics]

"Later, you will know two languages," says Isibel. She doesn't know how to actually go about teaching tenses and time words except by example - even using things like sunrise and sunset have the problem of being cyclic. "Because we are talking."