...Yup. That's a gorgeous stark naked woman practicing with sharp objects. That is a thing that Zeviana is now witness to. This is the best place. The absolute best. Fuck this was a good idea.

She'll let Ranata make introductions. Right now words are kind of escaping her and she's just - going to enjoy the sight. Not in a rude manner, not like she's looking at Luzia like a piece of meat, but like she's beautiful - because she is.

"Luzia!" calls Ranata.

Luzia catches her dagger and tucks it away into its sheath where it's hiding in her silks, and turns in their direction. "Ranata! Who's your friend?"

"This is Zeviana. I'm giving her a sort of tour."

The mousebird flies forward; Castarilan zooms down to greet her.

"Hi," says Zeviana, waving a bit. She's grinning and looking just a bit enamored. "Nice to meet you. I'm new around here."

Lecasryn swoops down, landing nearby. She's not as taken as her mage, but she is distinctly interested.

"What all've you seen so far?" inquires Luzia.

"This is Radna," Cas says to Lecasryn of the mousebird. "Radna, this is Lecasryn."

"Not too much of the place, I spent a while helping with some of your fields. But I like what I've seen so far."

Was that too subtle? That might have been too subtle. Hmm. She'll wait, before coming on stronger - let's see if the hot naked witch is returning attraction. Best to not come off as desperate.

(She's not, but she knows what she likes. She likes this witch.)

"Hello," says Lecasryn. "It's nice to meet you."

"Helping with the fields?" says Luzia. She nudges her silks (they're in a pile, knife sheath hiding in there somewhere) with her foot and finds a little rubber-band ball of hair ties, which she adds her current tie to. Her ponytail expands into not-a-ponytail. "Aren't you a mortal?"

"Likewise," says Radna politely.

"Not quite," says Zeviana. "I'm not a witch, but I'm not exactly from around here. The things I can do are a bit different, but - I'm magic."

"Luzia's very skilled with a dagger - my Zeviana is quite impressed," says the harrier.

"Zeviana's from another plane. Her brother is dating my daughter," explains Ranata, "and she decided to move here like he did, and might wind up an honorary clan member."

"Ooh. Hmm," says Luzia. "What did you do to the fields, then?"

"She practices a lot," says Radna. "It's fun. And good exercise."

"Did a bit of pruning. It should stay entirely free of weeds for a few years, but I can't guarantee forever. Not unless I moved in and kept at it for several decades or something."

"Yeah," agrees Lecasryn. "It looks like a lot of fun."

"Few years is good. Did you do all the plants like that?" asks Luzia.

"Well, once you're good at it," says Radna. "Not so much if you're five and keep dropping it on your foot. Or your daemon. But later on lots of fun."

"Did the mint, rosemary, and most of the watercress, though that one's not as completely finished because I ran out of mana partway through. They're big fields."

Lecasryn giggles. "Then it might be cute, though, when you're five. Did she drop daggers on you?"

"Mana?" asks Luzia.

"Once or twice. When she was just starting I was usually a turtle, though."

"Basically, I can only use so much magic in a certain amount of time. That's powered by mana, which I just sort of - have floating around my body? I guess? My brother's the magic nerd, I just kind of have a nebulous understanding of it. If I run out of it completely I die. Or, if I almost run out of it completely, I have a few really bad days and eventually recover. It regenerates, sleep helps but doesn't make it instant."

"That... Is a smart move."

"Huh. Our magic doesn't work that way at all. More significant spells are more complicated, but that just means they take time and care."

"I know," says the mousebird smugly.

"That sounds useful! Though annoying. We get complicated spells, too. For example, I spent most of my morning getting a crash course in a translation spell from my brother. It took hours. It sucked."

Lecasryn snickers. As much as a bird can snicker, anyway. "Did other daemons do that, or did most of them just try to dodge?"

"What about it took hours?" wonders Luzia. "I mean, a single witch spell could take that long if you were trying to understand why all the parts fit together and how to change something to get a different effect, but if you're willing to copy out of a written document and learn the verse phonetically you can knock even a complicated diagrammed one out in less than an hour."

"Some of them stole my idea," says Radna. "Or burrowed, or just became small and hid in their witches' hair or in boxes or whatever."

"Ours we have to understand exactly what we're doing. Not the - not what the effects are going to be, but what we need to make happen in order for it to do what you want. If you miss something - like a safety - it could be a key part of the spell and it'll do something that you don't want."

"Ah, well. Whatever they can do to protect themselves from - daggers, I suppose. Can't say I blame them."

"Skipping stuff could be risky with our spells too. Miss a line or a symbol and something's on fire... but understanding's not a prerequisite. Half our spells are in languages nobody even bothers to teach the little girls anymore."

"If Luzia's dagger had been blessed their ideas would've worked better than turtling. But it was just a practice dagger until she learned to stop dropping it."

"That's useful! So someone can invent a spell and you can just copy what they did and get it right? No study for hours required? I want that."

"I'm just imagining giving little kids magic daggers and - it's very good that it's just practice daggers. Because - wow that would end badly."

"Yep," says Luzia. "It can be inconvenient. If somebody gives you a spell and lies to you about what it does. And I don't think anybody can make it work for you, sorry."

"Even the adults' daggers aren't very magic, dropping one carelessly on a turtle wouldn't kill it," demurs Radna. "But yes."

"Didn't think so, my magic's non-transferable, too. Oh well. I like my magic, even if it's annoying sometimes."

"I'd still feel sorry for the turtle. Magic isn't - well, safe for children. Especially magic weapons."

"Maybe you could do magic while we do magic and get interesting things to happen," muses Luzia.

"Well, their versing works as well as anybody else's, if they read the wrong poems. Sometimes there's accidents," says Radna. "Not too many, though. They mispronounce things or don't say them versily enough."

"Maybe! I don't know, though - I'd probably have to sit around and scry things while you do your magic. That might be possible, but I don't know what kind of combinations would be possible."

"Versily enough?"

"What kind of scrying have you got?" inquires Luzia.

"Verse spells have to scan. They don't have to rhyme, even though lots of them do. If you pronounce them so they don't scan, then they don't work," says Radna.

"I kind of sit and stare at things for a while? I mean, do you want what I'm actually doing rather than what it looks like I'm doing? It's not a whole big thing like normal spells, scrying's easy."

"Oooh. That makes sense. Zeviana's magic doesn't work like that at all. Pronounciation isn't important at all, you just have to understand it."