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

[endragoned]

"Bored," giggles the demon. "Dragons sleep when they are bored."

[small_magics]

She smiles and nods, and looks for a good place to sit to begin the lesson proper.

[endragoned]

The demon observes her looking around.

He kneels at the water's edge and presses his hands to a bare patch of rock, then raises them. The rock follows. It forms a curved stone bench, half of a good height for Isibel and half a little higher, with a smooth transition between; when the shape of the bench is settled, he encourages a thick moss to grow all over it and provide a padded covering. Then he sits.

[small_magics]

She beams and applauds and sits. "I was standing," she reports helpfully, "now I am sitting. I am sitting on the bench you made. Thank you for making it."

[endragoned]

"We are sitting on the bench I made," he adapts. His pronunciation isn't perfect, but his grammar is fine.

[small_magics]

"We are," agrees Isibel. "Both you and I are sitting on this bench that you made. You made it with magic, from your dragon."

[endragoned]

"I made it with magic. Magic from dragon."

[small_magics]

"You and the dragon are Bondmates," says Isibel. "You have a Bond. That is how you can use your dragon's magic."

[endragoned]

"Bondmates," he repeats. "I and," a word from his language, "are Bondmates."

[small_magics]

Isibel repeats this word, tilting her head. Then she says, "My name is Isibel. ...Magania's name is Magania," she adds tautologically by way of further illustration.

[endragoned]

"Name," the demon echoes, and shrugs.

[small_magics]

...She could just ask him if his dragon's name is what he just said.

No, he's certainly demonstrated enough ability to pick up on subtext that he'd have volunteered the information if he wanted her to have it, wouldn't he? But he does know the word for "dragon". It wouldn't just mean "my dragon".

She repeats the unfamiliar word, slowly, not quite questioningly.

[endragoned]

The demon frowns thoughtfully.

Then he leans down to scoop up a clod of dirt from the ground.

He holds it up, says, "Name," and hands it to Isibel. "You," gesture to her holding the clod of dirt, "name."

[small_magics]

"I - have a name," she says slowly (because hold a name isn't right). They covered 'have', but she's been expecting him to forget something they've been over for a while and is surprised it took so long.

[endragoned]

"You have a name," he agrees. "I, dragon, no."

[small_magics]

"You and your dragon don't have names," Isibel corrects slowly. "Because there are only two of you on the island," she guesses.

[endragoned]

"I and my dragon don't have names."

He thinks for a few seconds, then says, "I talk my dragon," (unfamiliar word). "My dragon talks me," (same unfamiliar word).

[small_magics]

"You call your dragon," she slowly repeats the first word, "and your dragon calls you," the word.

(She's heard the things dragons and Bondmates sometimes wind up calling each other, and beloved may be the least sickly-sweet; she's not going to pick up this non-name appellation for her own use.)

[endragoned]

He smiles and nods.

[small_magics]

"Elves with dragons call their dragons beloved, if they do not call them by name," she volunteers. "Or sometimes other things. Most times - mostly - 'beloved'."

[endragoned]

"Beloved. Elves call dragon Bondmates beloved."

[small_magics]

"And dragons call elf Bondmates 'beloved'," Isibel goes on, "and human Wildmages, and human High Mages." They covered both kinds of human mages the other day, since she already had the wildmage drawn and threw in the High Mage with her little doodled wand for completeness. "Human" was covered by way of those two kinds of mages only coming in human.

She thinks she's exhausted that topic and looks around for more things to name while she waits for inspiration on conceptual or verb vocabulary. Oh, right, she was going to do clothes. She names her various garments, from her smallmagicked ribbons to her boots and her travel robes, in the simplest applicable words. (She doesn't even know the technical vocabulary around clothes. She's the Silverbranch clothier's favorite person, never second-guessing her expertise; she walks into the workshop and mentions a need and takes whatever the seamstress chooses to give her.)

[endragoned]

The demon observes Isibel's clothes, and cooperatively learns the relevant vocabulary.

He doesn't seem especially interested in pursuing the subject further.

[small_magics]

She names the entire collective clothes. Then she thinks of another verb. "I brought this book here with me when I came here," she says, indicating the notebook she brought. "I can bring clothes here, later, tomorrow, for you." They don't have a vast array of spares, but she can collect at least one serviceable outfit.

[endragoned]

He looks puzzled, then shakes his head.