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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.
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small_magics
small_magics
Isibel pauses, and thinks, and sighs and does a side history bit about Saravasse, who lived when her Wildmage died even though she didn't want to, but went on to Bond with an elf (who also lives today) and was happy again.
And then she draws the entire known dragon family tree.
It is small. She has it memorized.
And then she draws the entire known dragon family tree.
It is small. She has it memorized.
endragoned
"My dragon doesn't want to live if I die," he repeats.
...And blinks at the entire known dragon family tree.
There seems to be a problem here, even if it's not one he can articulate with his current vocabulary.
...And blinks at the entire known dragon family tree.
There seems to be a problem here, even if it's not one he can articulate with his current vocabulary.
small_magics
"There are only a few dragons. The dragons want more dragons," she explains. "All the dragons have these grandparents -" She indicates the bottleneck of three. "Except yours."
She draws an egg, helpfully. "Dragons are born from eggs. They hatch, out of eggs."
She draws an egg, helpfully. "Dragons are born from eggs. They hatch, out of eggs."
endragoned
"My dragon will—" he makes a valiant effort at the word she wrote down "—some other dragons," he offers. "If they want."
small_magics
Isibel blushes, looks away, corrects his pronunciation, and says, "Magania will talk to the other dragons."
small_magics
She carries on with bits of history lesson as they drift into her head, filling in a timeline and teaching its components out of order but always circling back to the line and adding names of the listed events in their correct places.
endragoned
The demon is fascinated by all the historical events. He seems to like learning people's names, and whether they are still alive.
small_magics
Eventually they reach the extent of her history knowledge and she teaches him some more numbers - there's a pretty consistent system from twenty up through ninety-nine - and tries to think of what's next. She knows perfectly well he's not conversationally fluent, however fast he learns, but she's not sure what to cover; she wishes she had a textbook, or even a dictionary to allow to fall open.
small_magics
She looks at him out of the corner of her eye and her cheeks pink a little.
endragoned
He grins, and says something in his own language. By tone it could be either an apology or a flirtation.
small_magics
She tilts her head. "Maybe when I've taught you more you'll know how to say what you want to know," she shrugs. And then she teaches him systems of measurements, and "heavier" and "lighter" and "farther" and "nearer", and when that's exhausted she draws and names houses, temples, chairs, tables, and the things that may be done with these and other objects. And then she thinks of a historical event she forgot, and goes back and covers that.
small_magics
The next time she runs out of ideas, she thinks for a minute, then says, "We could make a story. Like a history about something that did not happen. You can make part of it, then I can make part of it, and then I will see what I need to teach you to say."