Penþa, meanwhile, shepherds the two groups back together and makes sure they're each updated on what the other group has determined.

"... which is why I think we need to change our strategy in two ways: one, wish for less complicated things, and two, wish for powers that allow for the exercise of human judgement."

"There's also the fact that we went for something complicated and indirect in the name of sustainability and efficiency," Kapan points out. "When if Satenag had just wished for someone to become a genie, that would have been simpler, and let us go from there. I'm not saying it was the wrong choice, but we didn't really discuss it."

"That's a good point," Penþa agrees. "Maybe we should consider adopting a practice where we first try a non-grantable form of any given power, and then later figure out how to extend it to grantability if it comes out right and seems worthwhile."

"No!" another person objects. "I mean, yes, sure. But that's not sufficient. The first thing we should wish for, for any given category of power, is to have the effects directly. Then, once we've done that, we can reflect and come up with a scalable solution."

"Meaning that the next thing we should wish for is immortality, because that covers a big chunk of ways that things could go wrong."

There's a generalized burst of discussion, as a previous debate from the to-wish-for group gets reheated.

Penþa lets the discussion run until it devolves into talking over one another, and then waves for silence.

"Alright, alright. Some very good points. Thank you, everyone. But it is getting late."

They gesture to some children, who are nodding off despite their best efforts.

"I propose we call the meeting here, go home to sleep in our beds, where we are very unlikely to die, and then reconvene in the morning — because I don't think working to the normal schedule tomorrow is likely to be very productive, compared to making sure we have really solid wish wordings. Does that sound reasonable?"

Nobody raises any objection, although a larger than normal number of people linger after the meeting to keep talking. The rest head home so that they can get an early start.

Penþa wipes their brow.

"That was chaotic, compared to the normal harvest coordination. I feel like we're going to have quite a time of it tomorrow," they remark.

"Eeferi ­— I just realized you don't have a place to sleep. Do you sleep?" Satenag asks. "And if so, do you want to come stay with Daskal and I? Or I think Penþa has a second mattress, for anyone who ends up being displaced."

"My time between Masters may count as sleeping; I generally stay aware of myself and my surroundings otherwise.  Separately, if you want me nearby, I recommend bringing my lamp with you - though I may end up removing my conjured building if you do."

Satenag adopts a thoughtful look.

"It's not really that I want you close by or not close by," she responds. "It's that I want you to feel comfortable, and I don't know how best to do that if you don't sleep. Would you like to stay in the square overnight? You could talk with people as long as they linger here, and be first to greet the early risers. But there probably would be a period before dawn when you'd be alone — everyone else does have to sleep."

Quietly spoken, barely above a whisper..

"... I am .. willing .. to extend my trust that none will .. abscond with my lamp if I stay, safer though it may be if you keep it by your side."

Satenag rubs her face with her hands.

"I feel like we are somehow misunderstanding one another," she replies. "It's ... good to know that you feel safe enough, I suppose, but that wasn't what I asked. I asked what you want to do. As in, what would actually make you feel best. If the thing that will make you feel most comfortable is for me to take your lamp and sleep with it under my pillow, I'll do that. You don't have to do any option in particular — I only suggested things in case you didn't have any idea what your options were."

".. I would like to stay, for the night."

"However, it would be prudent if I would know how to find you, if I would need to."

She nods.

"Daskal and I live in — oh, I can't really point through the wall. Here."

She trots over to one of the doorways in Eeferi's illusory construction.

"Daskal and I live in that one, second from the beach," she says, pointing at the appropriate house.

"I'll be there all night. Please don't hesitate to wake me up if you need anything. But I should be up a little before dawn, and I'll come back here just afterwards."

"Thank you.  I hope your rests need no interruptions, then."

"I'm not expecting trouble," she agrees. "Southern Fishing Village is fairly calm."

She collects a yawning Daskal, wishes Eeferi a good night, and trickles out with the other villagers who want to be well-rested.

The remaining villagers congregate in a smaller circle to continue their discussion. Normally, they'd light a small fire, but Eeferi's illusory light is perfectly sufficient to the task.

There is warmth here.  All one need do- is share it.