"So tell me about what you've been practicing. Are you any better at moving things? Have you thought of more things you want to teach ialdae how to do? I got distracted by shrens and didn't find any good things in books."
"I can turn pages, I can move more directions than up or down when I'm floating myself," reports Sarsia, "I got enough fine control over the color changing that I can draw with it instead of just coloring entire sheets of paper but I'm not artistic particularly."
"Okay! Let's work on colouring and moving things for now, then," Matilda suggests. "And flying. Flying is fun." She levitates.
Matilda has better fine control with coloration than either, but her actual drawing skills are even less impressive.
Matilda checks in with Jensal or Ludei about once a week, and attends her witchcraft lessons, and helps Annei and Sarsia develop their ialdae. She is less enthusiastic about her Linnipese friends than she used to be, though. Witchcraft and ialdae are exciting, but she is dissatisfied with the answers they gave her about the state of education for Linnipese boys. She doesn't come up with any major new things to teach ialdae, although she does add a few small ones, like controllable minor special effects and flavoured conjured water.
And here is the bottom of the world, and on it is a gigantic diamond dragon, curled up on the ground. He looks at them when they approach but doesn't say anything.
"...So by 'something happened' you mean it all vanished?" says Matilda, peering at him.
She sits down on the ground and peers up at the dragon.
"What things does dragon magic do, exactly? What are all the magical properties dragons have?"
She peers at Jensal (understand, understand, understand) and after about three ticks, she says, "Extra shapeshifting?"
"Okay. I think I can see... where all his dragon magic should be and isn't, and which things should go in which places," she says. "So maybe if I could teach ialdae to do all the things dragon magic does, I could fix it. But I think I want to try language first so I can ask him what he thinks of that."
Matilda thinks about language, and magic. She likes languages. They're fun. She likes figuring them out and seeing what they're made of. Dragons (and shrens, when there are shrens) don't learn languages, though, they just know them. And they know Draconic, which is itself magic, and can only be understood with magic.
Matilda has magic. And her magic is pretty good at understanding things sometimes.
She thinks to herself: come on. Come on. Learn Draconic. It's a language, and languages are amazing, and it's magic, and magic is amazing. Learn Draconic. Learn Draconic. Learn Draconic. Learn Draconic. Learn Draconic.
Something goes click, magically speaking. Suddenly every language she's ever heard of is just there.
She inspects the little knot of magic that makes this so, and she looks at the diamond dragon, and she puts one of those right where his language magic goes. Its job is to stay there and give him language. That is what it is for. It knows its job, and it is going to do that job forever and ever.