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He spends some more time with the Jokers. The Jokers are fun.

Then he returns to Thilanushinyel.

[Apparently I'm a Knight-Mage,] he says to Sarion.
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[That is surprising, both that you would be one and that Glass would be able to tell when she has no other Wildmages to compare you against.]

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[She told me I had some kind of mind-protecting magic. There's only one kind I could think of that I might have without knowing about it. And she said it was part of the same thing as being a Wildmage.]

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[Ah, that explains it. It would be good to know what else she has seen.]

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[My aura gave me a different kind of mind protection. I was right; it was exactly what I was looking for. My mindscape is now a forest hidden in a bigger forest - no one can find it without an invitation. So I won't feel like there's someone just around the corner all the time.]

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[That sounds like it will be helpful, yes. Although it would still be potentially problematic if Lazarus's protective wish broke on adding another mind to the Dragonbond, it would not be immediately so - I would like at least in principle to be able to share things with my beloveds that I do not wish passed on, even though no examples come to mind.]

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[We can ask Lazarus to come have a look, maybe?]

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[Yes. But because our respective auras will do all of the immediately necessary work, and because Lazarus might well need to look at all of us to make a diagnosis, it should probably wait until Aianon has awoken and you and Ansharil have gazed at each other for some time and appropriate celebrations have concluded.]

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[All right,] says Lycaelon. [One of you will tell me when Aianon wakes, won't you?]

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[Of course.]

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[Then all I have to do is wait. I'm good at that.]

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And when Aianon un-naps, the wait is over.

[He is awake.]
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[Good morning,] says Lycaelon, conferenced to Aianon.

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[A very good morning. And it is about to get better, I think. Won't you come visit?]

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So Lycaelon teleports to Aianon.

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And Isibel, with Ansharil in tow, joins them.

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Lycaelon looks at Ansharil.
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Ansharil turns into an angel, and looks at Lycaelon.

His eyes are very green.
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He is perhaps the most beautiful thing in the entire world.

And - there he is, somewhere in the outer forest, waiting patiently.

Lycaelon draws him in.
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Isibel dilates time, again.

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There are... celebrations.

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How celebratory!

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Extremely.

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The time dilation proves useful! Albeit not as staggeringly necessary as it was when Isibel's beloveds first returned home.

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Ansharil is lovely and Aianon is lovely and Sarion is lovely and time dilation is lovely. Everything is lovely. Lycaelon is the happiest he's ever been in someone else's company.

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