Does the Music perhaps contain a snake with a mirror where its head should be, lunging at them out of the sea-surf?

Whether it does or not, Pharazôn steps forward, drawing his sword to kill this strange savage beast that dares menace him and his Queen -

Míriel stands frozen, surprised almost as much by Pharazôn's response as the snake -

Unfortunately, this is the sort of snake where hitting it with a sword does the opposite of making it go away!

...

The snake is gone.

The rhythm of the sea-waves hasn't changed. But all their men have disappeared, the vegetation is subtly unfamiliar, and there are now buildings visible no more than a mile off. Which is perhaps good, because something seems to be warping their eyesight, as they cannot see more than a few miles away.

Also, the sun is setting (or rising) along one direction of the shore, instead of into the sea.

Oooh, look everyone! We have visitors!

They'll be much more interesting with more power and some godsight on them, don't you think?

...

They can be permitted to EXIST.

The way they traveled here was really cool! And the woman's Good, but I don't think she's really a traveler at heart. The clericking vibes, they're just not there.

She's not Lawful, either. I always have trouble with Neutral Good clerics, I'd rather stick to paladins.

You're both silly.

She's Good. That means I vibe with her. End of story.

This mortal is admirably committed to NOT DYING.

Doesn't seem to be very interested in BREEDING, but we can work on that later, after he STOPS DYING. At least he's been eating properly.

Míriel and Pharazôn will abruptly discover they have some new mental... affordances, for lack of a better word, which comes with an instinctive association, though a different one for each of them. The warming caress of the Sun, and the inexplicable salience of... beetles?

Míriel looks around, dumbfounded.  She glances up toward the Sun; even that feels strange somehow.

"What... was that?  ... Do you know?  Where we are?"

She doesn't think he does know anything; if Pharazôn had enough sorcery to do anything like this (if sorcery could do anything like this), things would've gone far differently long before now.  But she doesn't know what else to say.

Pharazôn is also looking around in shock.

"... Somewhere in Middle-Earth, I assume?  Unless this is what Valinor is like?  Or I suppose the Dark Lands or Burnt Lands if we've gone that far?"

He throws up his hands and stares off down the shoreline, squinting his eyes at how things seem to disappear in the distance.  After a moment he notices a beetle crawling up his boot, but - strangely - he doesn't mind now.

"This isn't Valinor.  No one would've brought us there."

She stares up at the sun again, and then adjusts her necklace with the Sun and Moon pendants to sit on top of her other necklace with the Star of Earendil.  It just feels right.  Which is a strange feeling - she can't remember the last time anything felt so right.

"I didn't think so either.  Well, let's see where we are.  Someone should be down there.  Hopefully someone who knows a bit of Adûnaic."

He points to the village, which is fortunately before whatever magic is hiding whatever is far away from them, and offers Míriel his hand for the journey.

Míriel takes it.  It would, after all, be fitting.  And they're working together now.

The village is perhaps more of a small town, sitting on what may be a fairly well-traveled route. There are a few cobble-stoned streets, several dozen houses clustered closely together behind a palisade, and fields and farmhouses a bit farther off.

The people of the village, going about their business, speak an unfamiliar language.

Mysteriously, as they walk, they can start to see things far ahead of them that were previously hidden by whatever strange magic was hiding things.

Míriel feels hopeful when she sees the cobblestone streets.  Someone - some Numenorians, presumably - is improving this town.  There's trade.  Someone might even recognize one of them, or at least recognize her Star of Earendil necklace.

Pharazôn agrees with Miriel about the streets, and mentions to her how his governors had been expanding their public works programs lately.

Once there're a lot of people around, he goes up to someone and calls a "Hello!" in Adûnaic.  If they don't recognize that, he'll try several other languages... but he'll leave it to Míriel to attempt Sindarin.

Some people turn towards them curiously, but no-one seems to understand any of the languages he tries. Their rich clothing does seem to excite some commentary.

One of the locals gestures them uncertainly towards a central building, which seems to be of communal use. There are several outlines drawn inexpertly above and to the sides of the door: a person with wings (?), their arms outstretched with the Sun behind them; an upright sword, also paired with the sun, placed opposite the person; a bird with a long tail of many colors; a set of scales; a spiral with a bulbous end; a bow and arrow; a flower.

Is that supposed to be... well, the person in the Sun is Arien, of course.  If they're trying to represent multiple Valar and Maiar, the bird might be Manwe or Yavanna... no, the flower is Yavanna.  The bulbous spiral looks like sea-snails so it's probably Ulmo or Osse.  The sword might be Tulkas or Orome?

She gestures to someone and asks those names, pointing to the symbols.

They don't seem to recognize any of her names! But they can provide their own: the sun-person is Sarenrae, the sun-sword Iomedae, the bird Shelyn, the scales Abadar, the spiral Pharasma, the flower Milani, the bow is Erastil.

Well, of course the Valar would have different names in different languages.  She hasn't heard this language before, so of course it makes sense she won't have heard those names.  Right?

She points up at the Sun in the sky and says "Sarenrae?"

Yep, that's Sarenrae! 

Pharazôn is much more worried.

That doesn't look like a prefect's house... unless someone went all-in on native art styles?  And he doesn't think anyone would've done that.  Míriel's guess they were worshipping the Valar was wrong, which on the one hand is good for him, but on the other hand...

He's starting to get concerned they've landed outside the Numenorian viceroyalties altogether.  Maybe this's the land of that "Tar-Mairon King of Men" who rules parts of Middle-Earth?

He whispers to Miriel, "Don't tell them who we are.  They might be hostile."

"All right," she whispers back.

She looks around the village again, searching for some clues to where they might be or other words to ask about.  They might notice her necklaces...

They can't tell them who they are anyway, seeing as no-one understands them!

The locals have definitely noticed their wealthy dress and ornaments, and Pharazôn's sword, and they seem to be treating him with respect, if not exactly deference. They don't seem to be looking at her necklaces in particular, or maybe it's just hard to separate from men glancing at a pretty woman's chest.

Many of the locals also have ornaments - bracelets, earrings, pins, pendants worn around the neck - usually made out of copper, brass or painted wood, or even simple twine. The sun, moon, and stars (in various combinations) are popular motifs, as is the sword and some others.

Some of the children here look odd, almost like stunted adults. They're half the height of the grown-ups, but their bodily proportions don't match those of the more-normal children also in evidence.

...also, one of them seems to have a beard?

The stunted people don't look quite like the pictures of Dwarves that Miriel has seen, but they look a lot more like that than anything else.  She points to the one with a beard and says (in Sindarin) "Naugr?"  And then her one word of the Dwarves' own language, "Khuzd?"

Pharazôn, who has actually negotiated with Dwarves, shakes his head.  They don't look like that.

People might notice him looking questioningly at their necklaces.  There're enough stars here that he's also wondering if they've had contact with Elves...  Well, he can probably just ask.  "Quendi?  Eldar?" he says, looking one way and then another.

Wary, polite incomprehension! 

At this point they're approached by a woman wearing a spiral pendant on a thin chain, as well as spiral designs stitched into her dress. She doesn't understand them any better than the others, but she tries to mime something to them:

- Pharazôn -> money (she shows him a coin) -> her
- Her -> spiral -> folded hands, closed eyes -> Sun going up the sky, a little
- Pharazôn's mouth, to her ear, smile!

This woman who... well, going by Miriel's guess she's really devoted to Ulmo, but he isn't sure... 

... She's offering to... translate?  But not just now?

Well, they've already guessed from his clothes that he has money, he's sure.  So he might as well try.

He reaches into his bag to take out a smaller silver coin, being careful to pick one of the older pieces with Tar-Palantir's face rather than the newer ones with his own face.

(If she looks, the obverse of the coin is a ship.)

That is acceptable! The silver coin is clearly foreign and weighs rather more than the locally-standard silver pieces. She can't tell if it's genuine silver, of course, but there's no reason for wealthy foreigners to try to cheat her in such a small transaction, and being able to understand them might make them buy more things in the town instead of moving on to Almas.

She goes into the building, gesturing invitingly for them to follow. The inside is mostly a single big room, with wooden chairs and benches, and smaller niches and alcoves branching off. There are more wall-drawings and little wooden statues set on plinths and tables, in the niches and around the room, the ones that were drawn on the outside and a few others.

The woman goes to a niche with a bigger spiral, clasps her own spiral-pendant in her hands, closes her eyes, and settles into a contemplative pose.

They both follow.

Inside, Pharazôn is half disturbed - this clearly isn't a prefect's house - but also half relieved - there isn't a large sacrifice-table to the Darkness like he's seen in some towns conquered from Tar-Mairon.  In fact, it looks most like a schoolroom.

And then Pharazôn is dumbfounded when the lady goes to mediate with her hands folded.

(He mentions as much to Míriel.)

"If she wanted to cheat us, why'd she be doing this?  This looks more like I've heard Elves do when they're thinking deeply about something, or contemplating the world.  Maybe she's learned it from them?

"And yes - this looks like a schoolroom.  Which means some sort of civilization."

She looks around the room going from statue to statue.  They don't look like she's imagined the Valar... especially ?Orome? with an elk's head?... and whoever it is with the sword-symbol in a suit of armor; she thought it might be Aule or Tulkas but she didn't expect them to be wearing armor... but she feels something is right here in a way she hasn't felt in a long time.

The woman will keep praying for a quarter-hour if undisturbed. Some other locals come by, look inside, and leave again.

Pharazon paces back and forth, casting suspicious glares at the woman.  Someone's probably going to notice.

The woman doesn't notice, because she's praying. A man is going to come inside and sort of - hover anxiously?

Pharazon backs away.  He's got his sword if it does come down to it, but he's not going to be the one to start anything when he has no idea where he is.

(What happened to that beetle on his boot?  It's crawled up into his pant cuff now.  To his own surprise, he still doesn't mind.)

No-one is going to start anything against a maybe-adventurer with a sword! He's here because he doesn't want anyone to start anything!

Eventually, the woman ends whatever she was doing and turns back to them. She moves her hands in a complex pattern, still holding her spiral-pendant, and says something.

Then she smiles at Pharazôn, points to herself, says "Wanda", and points to him invitingly.

All right, she's come out of her meditation or whatever.  Let's see if she's going to try to translate now?

"Gimildun."  He's not going to give his real name, of course.  He continues in Adunaic, gesturing, "We're travelers.  Lost.  Where are we?"

Nodnod. She leads them out of the building again.

"Fedele," gesturing to the buildings; "Almas", pointing down the road, and holding eight of her fingers raised; "Andoran", sweeping her arm all around.

He has no idea how much of what he said she understood, but nope, he hasn't heard of any of those names.

"Do you know any of those?" he asks Miriel.

(Miriel, when invited, gave the name "Zimraphel."  It's a translation-by-sense of her real name, but she's actually heard of other people named that in Adunaic, whereas she hasn't heard of anyone else named "Miriel."  Except, of course, for the famous Elf.  Her father never explained why he reused that name, except that he'd had a reason.)

She shakes her head; she doesn't know any of those names either.  "Can you understand us now?" she asks slowly.  "What ocean is that?"

The problem with the Inner Sea is that it doesn't have a name that sounds the same in different languages. ...also, and more relevantly, it's not an ocean, and if these people are confused about that, their Teleport accident must have been a really bad one!

Wanda tries to sketch a map on the ground with a stick. (It's not a very good map.) There are two blobs for Avistan and Garund. They are... somewhere in the middle of the south Avistani coast. This is the Inner Sea - she repeats the Adunaic word for 'ocean', with an emphatic shake of her head and a crossing of her arms - that, far far far to the West (she makes a sort of flying gesture), is the Arcadian ocean.

...oh, and somewhere to the southeast there's probably another ocean, she doesn't know the name of that one.

Miriel walks around the map to try to view it from different angles.

"That... looks sort of like as if the compass was flipped and west was that way" (she points to the east of the map) and we're in Farther Rhûn?  Somehow?  Which means Valinor would be here..."

She picks up a stick and sketches another line for land off the map (around where Tian Xia would be), and points to the symbols that apparently represent the Valar and then to there.

Well, it's a bad sketched map... so maybe?

(He doesn't think so.  If you knew the shape of the Dark Lands' coast at all, you wouldn't be missing the horn.  And there're so many other things like that missing too.)

Wanda has no idea Tian Xia exists, let alone what gods are worshipped there! The only thing she's sure about is that Pharasma the Creator is universal.

So: spiral, nodnod; everyone else, apologetic shrug?

... No, Ulmo is the one who's everywhere there's sea.  And the others are the ones who're definitely in Valinor.  She shakes her head.

"The map doesn't look right anyway.  I have a hard time believing anyone who can draw the coasts would draw them like this..."  He shakes his head.  "And then there's that magic we saw in the distance hiding things... Did you hear of those philosophers who were guessing there might be people other places that aren't Arda?  I don't think we're on Arda anymore."

Miriel freezes in shock.

She'd heard of them too - she'd scoffed at them.  Till now.

Wanda is sympathetic, but she has no idea what was Zimraphel found so shocking! Did the poor woman just realize she's on the wrong continent?

They're halfway through her spell, and she doesn't feel like she has really helped these people. She starts listing every country-name she knows, presumably these people haven't come hear from over the ocean.

East is Taldor. North are Galt and Isger. West is Cheliax (grimace, and a sign to ward off evil). South across the sea is Osirion. Also there's Lastwall somewhere - another name that's probably translated, since it just means 'last wall' in Taldane - and, uh... Mendev?

She tries to mime that soon her spell will stop working, the same way she mimed earlier that it would start working after she spent a similar amount of time praying.

She hasn't heard of any of those either.

Which she wouldn't have, if this's a totally different world.

"At least the Valar are known here too..." she murmurs.  "Unlike those philosophers were saying."  And that's a comforting thought.

"Well, that's a grim thought."  He can't get away from them even now!

... and she'll only be helping them for a little while?  "And what happens with us after that?"  He points to himself and Miriel, and spreads his arms questioningly.

Why is he asking her what to do? If he told her what he wanted to do she'd tell him how!

Wanda tries to mime the simplest options. Food, drink, sleep, go in that building (the local inn), pay with coin. After the Sun goes down and up again, Wanda can understand them again. (Briefly.)

That way is Almas, which is a big city - um, if this village has this many houses (she quickly counts them on her fingers), then Almas has many many more bigger buildings (she spreads all her fingers quickly several times over, and tries to gesture 'large house').

...no wait, she'll sketch this too. Almas is a big walled city with tall buildings! In Almas there are many stick-figure people! Some of them have conical wizard hats! If they give the conical-hat people many many coins, they will understand them and speak to them, all day long.

Actually, not just conical hat people! In Almas there are people (drawn twice as big as the other stick figures) with most of these other symbols (scales, bird, sun, sword) and if they give them coins they can also talk to them better than Wanda can.

Hopefully some of that came across?

Well, Miriel supposes it's good they have multiple options!

"I'd like to get to the city... but I want to know more about this world first.  And the countries here... if there might be a war between here and Cheliax, I don't want to be surprised..."

Pharazon nods.  "I don't want to come to the city as an ignorant supplicant.  Ideally I'd like to learn this language first..."

Everyone thinks there might be (another) war with Cheliax, but everyone has been thinking that her whole life, so: probably not this year? Wanda tries to mime this, but has no idea how much she can get across.

If he wants to learn the local language, going to the city is really his best bet! Well, she supposes he could stay here and pay some local child to speak to him all day, but that seems like a surprising choice. There are many more children without pay or food in the city! This town's children are well cared for!

...she's not going to tell these people what to do, though. They're rich and independent and can pay their way. Do they have any more questions for her before her spell runs out?

Miriel's confusion finally boils over.  "Why can you only mime with us once a day?  And can you understand us or not?"

She can mime with them all day! Well, not really, she has other things to do, but she can.

And she can understand them, but only for a few more minutes. Because it's a spell, granted by the spiral-goddess Pharasma, and it's running out.

understand, she tries to repeat in Adunaic, and nods emphatically.

Do these people not know that spells only last so long and can only be cast a few times per day Wanda assumes everyone knows that, in the same way that everyone knows that water flows downhill and the sun goes around the sky, even rich foreign people.

Is she asking why the spell doesn't last longer? Wanda, spiral, small (two fingers a little bit apart). Almas, spiral, much bigger! Bigger, sun go farther in the sky!

"Do you mean... Ulmo..." (he's not sure that's who it is, and he really hopes it isn't) "... pays more attention to larger cities here?  But what does that have to do with understanding us?"

"And you can understand us but not really speak to us?  How does that even work?"

No, no, Pharasma is the same everywhere. She (Wanda) is small. This stick-figure with a spiral pendant is BIG. And is in Almas. As are all these other big stick figures with other symbols or with conical hats.

Yes! She can understand but not speak! Well, she can identify words they say and repeat them, she could learn their language eventually that way. Like this:

That work! How that work? Pharasma understand. Wanda not understand.

Actually. Why can't Wanda cast a spell to make them understand her? She only made 2nd circle two months ago (there was a really difficult childbirth one village over) and she doesn't know all the new spells by heart yet, but she could pray for it tomorrow and see if she gets something.

Tomorrow (she mimes), Wanda - pray (folded hands) - Pharasma. Then they understand Wanda. Maybe? Yes, no? Equivocal shrug.

"'Pharasma' is... giving you magic to understand us?  That's not how the Valar usually do things where we're from!"

Emphatic nod, to the first half.

The gods... don't usually give people spells where they're from? That's extremely confusing and Wanda is very much not understand about it. Pharasma can't just... not give spells to anyone in a country! How would babies be born safely without healing?

Unless... Are these people possibly from Geb, land of the horrible Lich-King? They don't look undead!

Wanda resolves to make sure these two are included in her midday channel, and that someone watches them until then, if they don't decide to leave the town after all.

Also, her comprehend languages has just expired. She can at least get that much across, because she now has their words for understand and gods and that works (she wasn't bothering to track all the rest).

"I hope we can talk with you tomorrow!" Miriel says, probably uselessly.

So.  He's in someplace where the Valar regularly give out power to people.  Not just more strength and wisdom to a country-full of people like they did to his ancestors, but noticeable power to individual people.

He doesn't like this.

He doesn't think they'll like him once they see what sort of person he is.

... Though he is feeling good about how Miriel was the person to shock and pain that Valar-empowered lady!

"Thank you," he says politely, with a nod.

She mimes that she can't understand him anymore, but the polite nod is appreciated!

Do they look like she can help them with anything else or can she leave now?

"I'm going to see what the inn is like," Miriel says with a sigh.  She didn't want to found her self-identity on the comforts of royalty, but the thought of suddenly losing all of them does hurt.  "At least it should be vaguely civilized... I think."

Pharazon shrugs and goes along with her.

The inn is the largest building in town, and the attached stables are almost as big. This is the last stop on the coastal road before Almas, and it sees regular traffic from everyone who can't take a ship - drovers going to the big city, people with horses or carriages, everyone who lives too far west to take ship at Triela or who can't afford anything but walking. 

All the travelers left early in the morning and the evening's visitors are still hours away; the staff is busy cleaning, but the innkeeper is there to greet them and offer food and lodging. He's heard that these people don't speak Taldane but the language of inns and coins is universal, and pointing at things is easy since the menu is not very long - there'll be more available in the evening.

Would they like a single room, or separate?

It looks hugely rustic compared to the inns she's seen in Numenor itself, or Pelargir, or even what she imagines those would be like when they haven't been cleaned up for a royal progress.  But, she wasn't expecting anything else.  It's an inn.

"Separate.  We're not married yet."

... if ever.  They've left all the political issues back in Arda.  Which leaves - does she want to marry him?

She doesn't know how to answer that now.

Pharazon nods.  "Separate is fine."

Certainly! Which is to say, they're cleaning and airing the rooms right now but they'll be ready soon. (This is hard to mime but easy to point out as the woman doing the cleaning moves through.) 

Meanwhile the guests are welcome to eat and drink. There will be a bath available for (well-paying) guests but, again, only later in the evening, the cistern needs to be refilled from the stream and the fire isn't lit.

Pharazon asks for the words for each thing they indicate (repeating the Adunaic), trying to remember them.  "I wish I had some paper," he mentions to Miriel.  "I didn't think to bring any for a walk by the sea..."

Miriel laughs.  "I would've brought many things if I'd known where we were really going!"

"Or walked somewhere else."

Miriel bows her head with a sharp laugh.

The idea that she's gotten away from Numenor and her responsibilities there, trying vainly to bring the Kingdom somewhere they didn't want to go -

- well, she might've wanted to leap for that snake.

Pharazon notices she's hiding something, but he doesn't know her well enough to know what.

He gets up and tries to ask (by mime) for some paper and a pen.

It's an unusual request - guests who want to write things down normally carry their own paper and writing kits - but he can have a few pages, and a quill pen and use of an inkpot. It'll go on his tab, though at few pages it's not really expensive, just unusual. Luckily, the innkeeper isn't busy right now and has time to source a few unusual requests for guests who'd have a hard time buying their own in town!

Pharazon fingers the quill curiously.  He's seen them in old pictures, but he hasn't ever used one before.

The ink drips onto the paper, before he scratches what can vaguely be made out as a splotchy tengwa.

"Let me try?"

Miriel is a little better at it, but only a little.

"Now I know why our ancestors invented pens..."

Not to worry! Many people can't write well (or at all), even if they're rich! (The innkeeper doesn't say this.)

After finally scratching out phonetic tengwar spellings of a few Taldane words, Pharazon is at the end of his patience.  He throws down the quill.  "I'm going outside."

Miriel doesn't mind the idea of some time away from him.  She picks up the quill.  "Let me know if you see another mirror-snake."

She's not coming?  Well, he's tired of being inside anyway.  He bustles out and heads in the direction of the sea.

The shore is less than half a mile from the town. The grass grows almost to the waterline, with only a narrow strip of sand. There are little fish swimming in the stream that passes through Fedele and white seabirds wheeling overhead. They look like gulls but don't sound quite like them, and everything is just a little bit off for any one of the lands he's seen before.

The sea is calm enough for a swim, but there are dark clouds in the distance.

And far away, he can see... well, he can't see; that's the problem.

Maybe the Valar-empowered woman will have an explanation for him tomorrow.  Maybe he'll like the explanation.

He's not expecting that.

He was fairly sure he was going to be King of Numenor, and now --

The seagulls scream back at him; the sea keeps lapping placidly at the shore.

He looks around again - fortunately, no person's in sight to see him screaming.

All right.  He's here.  He's still a Numenorian, a son of Earendil the Morning Star, and of Beren and Luthien who defied the Valar themselves to gain a new life together.  He can make something of himself here too.

... make something with Miriel too, if she'll still marry him, and if he still wants to marry her.  Which he thinks he does.

He walks back into town, looking for clues to what sort of country they're in, or for a boy who might be willing to teach him a little of the local language.

The country seems to be a peaceful one. There's a tall palisade around the town, with a gate that can be closed but no obvious guard posted; most of the buildings in the fields outside are shacks probably used for storage, but there are also a few better-built houses among them that people might be living in. A flock of sheep is at pasture, some geese and chickens, a few cows and a horse. Some of the fields are fallow this season, left for pasture; others seem to be recently sprouted, the plants still small and hard to identify, but they don't appear to be a grass such as wheat.

The houses are built of a mix of wood and stone, sturdy enough but not expertly dressed or mortared. A few are coated with some kind of plaster, and might be made of bricks under that. There is a water-mill, the little stream dammed above it to form an artificial pond. In the distance - what distance can be seen around these parts - a pair of horsemen armed with swords and bows are riding towards the town, but they don't appear to be in any hurry.

It's close to mid-day, and the Sun rides high in the sky. The day has grown much hotter, and the locals go about in shortsleeves and shade themselves with broad hats of straw.

He might need the innkeeper's assistance, or Wanda's, to find a suitable boy and explain what he wants from him.

He wishes he'd paid more attention to the Numenorian towns he was sailing past or riding through.  He doesn't know how any of this compares to Numenor, or the Numenorian colonies.  Maybe this town's much more primitive, or maybe almost as advanced?

Maybe there is something he knows that they don't, which he'll be able to use to show them who he is.

... Or there's some way right now he could talk with those horsemen riding in here.  Maybe they'll be able to talk with him too?  Hopefully some other way that's not from the Valar?

He's not going to ask the innkeeper, and definitely not the Valar-empowered lady.  He's going to find a bored-looking child right now and speak to him in Adunaic and ask for words.

There aren't any bored-looking children around, per se. There are older children busy at various tasks, and younger ones who are playing. Does he want to interrupt one of them and explain through pantomime what he wants?

Sure!  He picks one of the younger ones; they aren't doing anything anyone else cares about.

"Hello," he says slowly in Adunaic, waving his hand like he saw the innkeeper doing.  "Can't speak -" He waves his hand and points to himself.  "Pharazon."  (Now that he knows it's a different world, he's not worried about giving his real name.)  He points to the kid questioningly.

Four strange words and some gestures, is it a spell? The kid backs away cautiously; he's not going to let Pharazon touch him!

"What do you want? ...Sir," he adds belatedly.

... that's a little long for a name?

He points to his other hand; he got that Taldane word from the innkeeper.  "Hand" (in Taldane); "hand" (in Adunaic).

Then he spreads his hands, and points to the nearby house questioningly.

"Hand", strange word, gesture with hands, point with hand. 

This may or may not be a spell, but the kid doesn't know what else you'd do by talking about hands and gesturing with your hands and then pointing to something. "I don't understand," he says.

"Maybe it's a game of charade!" a nearby girl contributes and is shushed by everyone else, who are watching the rich maybe-adventurer with some wariness.

He mentally marks that phrase as something having to do with buildings, and points to his shoe.  "Shoe" (in Adunaic).

He's pointing at things and saying strange words. Nothing is happening, so it's probably not a spell. First hands, now he's pointing at his feet. "What about your foot?"

That's still long, but maybe it's a specific sort of shoe?  He nods.

Let's see, what word does he want next... "Shirt."  He points at his own, and then at the boy's.

"Uh... body?"

"Torso," contributes the girl who likes word-games.

Two different words.  Maybe two different types of shirt and she's not sure which one his shirt is?  Or maybe something else's confusing?

"Sword."  (He's careful to keep it sheathed.)

"That's not a body part!"

"What are the rules," another kid wants to know.

He puts his hand to his ear quizzically.  "No" (in Taldane; he got that word from the innkeeper too) - gesture fingers waving out from his mouth - spread his hands. "I don't speak your language."

"I think he's pretending to cast spells, I saw an adventurer breathe fire once and it looked a bit like that."

"You saw an adventurer breathe fire? A real adventurer? When?"

"Not real fire, it wasn't hot and I could kinda see through it. He was at the inn a week ago, the 'keeper probably didn't let him do real fire inside."

"This one's boring, he can't even do pretend fire right."

"But he has a sword!"

"So what? My uncle Tomas has a better sword."

"Does not!"

"Does too!"

"Your uncle biggest adventure is seeing Sam's wife when Sam's with the flocks."

The children begin to wander away, engrossed in the new argument.

Pharazon sighs.  Maybe they were too young?  Or maybe they didn't understand how to teach words?

He walks over to look at the riders.  If they're close by now, he'll head over to take a look at them and how people are meeting them; if not, he'll go find an adult to try to learn some more words.

The riders dismount at the inn and head inside to talk to the innkeeper. Nobody seems surprised or alarmed to see them; they exchange casual-seeming greetings with some people on their way.

When the riders come into the inn, Miriel is sitting with her head down trying to decide whether to pray.

She doesn't pray that often.  The Valar never seemed to listen when she did, or when her father did.  They just sit teasingly off in their country; she knows they're good rulers if people obey them, but they don't seem to listen.  More often, she prays to Eru Illuvatar, even though He doesn't seem to answer either.

But in this world... the Valar seem to be paying more attention to individuals?  So maybe she should pray here?

But before she can actually decide to actually pray, the door opens and some strange men come in.  They're carrying themselves more alertly than the townspeople, like fighters, and they're the first obviously-armed people she's seen.

She looks up, glances back down at the page where she's marked down the words she's learned, and says what she thinks is "Hello!"

She's clearly foreign and with a weird accent, which is less weird since she's also clearly rich enough to be from somewhere far away. The inn sees regular traffic; a foreign-looking woman sitting in the main room isn't unheard of. "Good day to you, lady," they say politely, before talking to the innkeeper.

Miriel catches the quick dismissal.  She's disappointed, but not surprised, and nods back at them with a smile.

Outside, Pharazon stands for a bit, thinking.  People didn't seem to be honoring the newcomers in anyway, or afraid of them, or... well, maybe they were respecting them, but in the way you'd respect someone who'd just won some tournament.  

Maybe, despite their weapons, these aren't nobles after all?  Or maybe the way these people relate to nobles is different, the way some stories say it used to be among the Men in the First Age?

Well, he's not going to learn anything standing out here.  He goes in.

Miriel nods to him as he comes in.

"What did you learn outside?" she asks politely, ostentatiously tapping the corner of her list of words.

Pharazon has to admit (to himself) that's more than he got.  Talking to children, without paper in hand, had to be the wrong idea.

"I'm thinking that a place with the Valar giving people magic has to be different than where we came from.  But -" he adds optimistically, with a shrug, "our forefathers found a place for themselves even under the Elves."

That framing of First Age history is one Miriel and her father have known and dismissed for all their lives.

"Alongside the Elves, you mean.  And yes.  Have you tried praying?"

Not that she's actually done it herself, since... oh, the day before she agreed to marry him, when she'd decided it was fitting to give the Valar or Eru one last chance to give her a better plan.

Nor that she's going to admit to any of that.

"I might, if they gave me some of that magic, and left me alone otherwise.  I might even put up with some nagging ambassadors like they sent to our grandfathers.  What about you?  Are you insisting to stick with your father's ban on sorcery?"

Well, that's nothing more than she'd expect of Pharazon, an all-but-proven sorcerer.

"He banned sorcery because that's from Morgoth.  If the Valar are giving out magic here - they'd see you're the wrong person to give it to!  Go use your sorcery, if you brought any of it with you!"

She scoops up the quill and paper and walks to the other side of the inn, head held high.

The two men talk to the innkeeper for a few minutes. Judging from their gestures, at least some of the conversation is about the two of them.

Then the innkeeper says something loudly, everyone else working in the inn starts walking towards the door, and he politely gestures for Pharazon and Miriel to come with them. He says something about Wanda, moves his finger indicate the spiral-symbol, and then throws his arms wide open, turning around to indicate the whole room. Will they please come?

Wanda's saying or doing something about Ulmo?  Yes, absolutely!

Oh all right; he's not going to get anywhere staying away.

Many of the townspeople are gathering in the building with the gods' symbols, where they stand tightly packed around Wanda, being careful to fit inside a rough circle painted on the floor which covers most of the room. Most of them look relaxed, happy but not particularly excited or nervous.

Once everyone is standing inside the circle, including Pharazon and Miriel, Wanda lifts the spiral-symbol high where everyone can see it, and -

- some of their minor aches suddenly disappear, little ways in which your body tells you it's a tiny bit broken down that you learn to ignore, the slightly inflamed tendons and torn hangnails and minor rashes that you don't notice until you suddenly feel their absence -

- one of the children in the crowd has scraped knees, fresh scabs of dried blood, and they watch them fall off and healthy skin grow in -

- the feeling from this morning, that there's some new mental action they can take, grows a little more insistent in their heads.

- and six seconds later it's all over and the people smile and thank Wanda and start dispersing, resuming their conversations.

Pharazon feels better than he has in ages.  His scratches from his recent battle are gone now - the worst one more than he'd expected it to ever heal!

Miriel doesn't have any war wounds, but she does have old aches...

... or she did have them.

She feels the light of the Valar rushing over her like a friend, like something she's hoped for all her life even when she didn't expect it anymore at all... and it's suddenly here!

"If this's what the Valar do here -" she says aloud.

(- then for the first time in all too long, she can truly say she's happy to serve them.)

"Very useful," Pharazon agrees.

Oh thank the gods, they're not undead! ...that doesn't mean they're not from Geb, even if she mostly thinks that because she has no better theory.

They looked very surprised. But they already knew she was a cleric, it was obvious she was going to channel, what could have surprised them? It's not possible for people not to know about spells or channeling, so - nope, Wanda has no idea what's going on with these two. Hopefully Pharasma will give her a useful spell in the morning so she can talk to them properly.

Pharazon slips off with everyone else.  He doesn't like the Valar dangling healing in front of him like they've been dangling immortality just in sight of the Numenorians... and maybe that's not what they're actually doing, but it sort of feels like that when he can't talk with anyone except Miriel, who seems to have slipped right back into the piety he thought of her.

Miriel stays in the building afterwards for a little while, not surprised to see Pharazon slipping off.  She tries to pray, to the Valar in general - but the words don't come.

She's happy to serve them?  She's sorry for doubting?  She can think that, but the only words that come are a whispered "I'm sorry."

After a little while, she goes outside, down to the seashore.  And there, she kneels and instantly finds the words easier to say.  (It makes sense; after all, at home, praying wasn't something associated with a building.)

"Thank you," she says to the Valar in general.  "For healing; for showing me that you do act in the world.  Help my people at home - and show me what you want me to do, here now, and wherever I am after this."

It might be the first time since her childhood that she's prayed from gratitude, rather than out of duty or anger.

The sun pendant on her necklace grows a little warm to the touch. Or is it just her imagination? The feeling of something she can/should do grows stronger again, pulling at her attention, and at the same time it is joined by a new feeling of love, acceptance, warmth, healing understood as the desire to help people, acting in the world.

And then it passes and she's alone on the beach again, but the memory stays with her.

She's not alone anymore.

She's not alone!

Help people?  That's what she's been trying to do all along - she doesn't know how to do it, she never did; but she knows how to try her best - and now the Valar may have even given her a clue how...

(Is it Arien?  Or Ulmo?  Or someone else?  Not that it really matters.)

"Thank You!" she breathes.

And then she goes back to town, beaming.  She wants to try what might be a new magical power somewhere someone can see, because she's not going to be able to tell anyone about it today...

There are people in town! She can find Wanda, or anyone else she wants really. Pharazon is probably somewhere around too.

Part of her feels she should just show it (whatever it is) to the very first people she sees, but she wants to show it to Wanda.  After a minute looking for her, she starts to feel like a little girl going for approval from her mother, but she keeps looking because she wants to anyway.

Wanda isn't at the church anymore, but if she asks anyone else they will direct her to her house. She's spinning wool, watching people go about their day through her open door.

Miriel stands in front of her awkwardly, not sure how to begin.

After a moment, she holds out the sun on her necklace.

It's a very pretty (and clearly very expensive) necklace. Wanda isn't sure what Miriel wants from her, what with the language barrier, but she recalls that when they first spoke Sarenrae was the only goddess Miriel asked a follow-up question about, confirming that the sun was also Her holy symbol.

"Are you a follower of Sarenrae?" she wonders, mostly to herself. If any god made inroads into Geb, or had their clergy reach out to people fleeing Geb, Sarenrae would surely be the second best suited.

"I don't understand what you want, though," she says apologetically. 'Understand' is one of the few Adunaic words she memorized, so she repeats that.

... Wanda doesn't understand.  Well, Miriel will have to demonstrate whatever this thing is.  Hopefully she'll recognize it then.

Miriel steps back just a little, still holding up the sun.  For a moment she feels like when she was standing with her father at the Three Prayers to Eru, performing royal duty after royal duty that didn't ever help anyone...

... but then she remembers the presence of the Valar that she'd felt at the beach a moment ago.  Someone else is with her now, and gave her this to be an actual help.

And with that, she does the thing she can now do.

Even when you have no wounds to be healed, the feeling of a channel is unmistakable.

Miriel feels it pulse through her, Sarenrae's will which she effects in the world because for this one moment it is Miriel's will too, and it is the commingling of both that permits this small miracle.

The will for noone to hurt, for all wounds to heal, for everyone to be all right and for everyone to wish that on everyone else because that is the only thing that is fundamentally wrong with the world, that people don't love each other as themselves, and once they learn to do so all this senseless Evil will simply end.

If Sarenrae were aware of Eru's Creation, Her part in the Great Music would be the Healing of Arda Marred. But She would never agree to wait until the Last Battle, and that is, perhaps, why Eru does not have a god like Sarenrae.

But Pharasma's Creation does.

And Wanda can feel it dimly too. It is not her goddess and she has nothing to be healed of, and it is possible to channel without making it obvious if you want to. But Wanda's own cleric domain is Healing, and the channeling of a priestess of the goddess of Healing who wants to declare herself resonates with a piece of her soul.

"You're a cleric?" she blurts out. "But then - why were you so surprised earlier - why did you say you didn't understand that gods grant spells" -

Wait. Wait wait wait wait wait just one moment.

Wanda can see two obvious reasons why this morning Zimraphel might have been interested in Sarenrae's holy symbols while saying she didn't understand spells, been shocked to see a channel, and an hour later would show Wanda in private that she too can channel.

One is that Zimraphel saw Wanda channel and immediately derived how to do it herself was clericked by Sarenrae on the spot. That would be a very good thing to happen, obviously, and not in any way an emergency or a source of any danger.

The other is that she's been hiding her status as a cleric of Sarenrae from Gimildun, who is not wearing a sun-pendant because he's from Geb.

Wanda looks around carefully to see if she can spot Gimildun lurking menacingly in the background.

(She can't; he's still in the inn.)

Oh.

Oh, this is what the Valar have given her.

Beautiful, and so dear - not exactly what would heal the problems of Numenor, but what would?  And worth more than she's been given all her life till now.

Wanda gives Zimraphel her best smile, gestures her inside, and closes the door softly. She wants to offer her a hug but refrains, on the grounds that she hasn't yet determined what exactly she'd be hugging her about.

"You're a cleric of Sarenrae," she says. That is: Zimraphel, prayer (hands folded), Sarenrae (sun symbol), Zimraphel, channel (arms thrown wide open, smile)!

The Sun (the one in the sky, visible through the window), moves. When it moves alll the way around it will be "tomorrow". And then Wanda, pray, Pharasma (spiral), understand Zimraphel! (Maybe.) But also: tomorrow, Zimraphel pray Sarenrae, Zimraphel understand Wanda! (Emphatic nod: she knows that's a first-circle spell.)

Now for the worrying part. Gimildun, no Sun-pendant. Gimildun, not understand Sarenrae? Not smile Sarenrae?

"Oh, understanding you will be so helpful!"

And she shakes her head; no Pharazon doesn't smile at Sarenrae (as ?Arien? is called here?).

Then Wanda won't - uh, how to say this in mime -

She fetched the slate she uses to take notes when she's making her rounds. Stick figure time!

Wanda→→Gimildun understand Zimraphel pray Sarenrae: no! She crosses out the arrow and shakes her head emphatically.

She shrugs.  "He -" oh, Wanda still doesn't know their real names. "- Gimildun understands I pray.  He doesn't like it, but he doesn't try to stop it."

Wanda doesn't understand that second sentence but the first one is reassuring! Except that it brings back the mystery.

This morning - she points at where the sun was - Zimraphel didn't understand spells or praying. But Zimraphel is a cleric of Sarenrae, Zimraphel prays to Sarenrae. Why did Zimraphel say she didn't understand?

How to say this... it's time for stick figures.

Zimraphel and Gimildun go from there to here with Wanda.  Here, Sarenrae gives channels.  There, Sarenrae does not give channels.  ("Sarenrae not" - same gesture Wanda used to communicate channeling.)  These other gods (she sketches ?Ulmo?'s conch-shell, ?Aule?'s sword, and ?Mandos?'s scales) don't give channels there either.

Wanda points to the place Zimraphel and Gimildun came from. "Geb"?

Blank stare, and then she shakes her head.  "Numenor.  Arda."

Maybe Geb isn't called that in Geb, since they speak a different language. 

Geb or not Geb, it shouldn't be that hard to tell the difference. Wanda tries to draw a skeleton; this is pretty hard when her standard for normal people is stick figures Shelyn I'm so sorry but she hopes she can get it across - are there stick-skeletons where they came from?

Blank stare.  That looks like it might be some weird sort of stick-person, but she can't tell what it is?

...she wipes her part of the slate clean, and then draws a skull. Big, obvious skull, she can do that. With a crown. Yes/no?

... yes, the dead kings of Numenor are entombed in honor, if that's what Wanda is talking about?

Yes, her father Tar-Palantir just died, if that's what she's talking about?

After a few moments' confusion, Miriel hesitantly nods. 

"Geb", Wanda says grimly. 

Geb →→ Pharasma, Sarenrae no channel. Not Geb, yes channel.

Also, Pharasma hates Geb (crossed swords).

Oh.  They do know about Numenor.

And yeah, she was pretty sure Ulmo hates them now.

She nods soberly.

But now they're here and Sarenrae smiles on her and so everything will be fine! (For her. Not for everyone back in Geb. Sigh.)

So, just checking... Zimraphel in Geb →→ Zimraphel prays Sarenrae, no channel →→ Zimraphel come here, channel?

Yes!  Exactly!  She nods.

And also - when she was there, she also prayed to Ulmo (sketch a conch-shell), Aule (a sword), Manwe (a bird)...

(well, she did that occasionally.  A lot more than most people did).

Sarenrae would know not to give people powers that would only see them killed, in Geb. That doesn't mean Sarenare wouldn't reach out and pick people while they're in Geb, that's not - who Sarenrae is.

Wanda is fiercely proud of this stranger who grew up amid what must have been unimaginable horrors and was still Good enough to be clericked by Sarenrae and resourceful enough to flee the country. (And come all the way here still confused about clerics? - never mind that's not important right now -)

People growing up Good in a Lawful Evil country is the Andoran national identity. She's come to the right place.

Also: hug?

Hug.

She melts into the hug even more than she thought she would.  She thought this'd be a day for awkward negotiations and flirting with Pharazon, but instead - things are going so much nicer.

She'll get all the hug she wants!! She's a new (or possibly a secretly old) cleric of Sarenrae despite being from Geb! That's just so huggable!

Some time later, when the hug is finally finished, Miriel says, "You should know our real names now.  Miriel."  (She points to herself).  "Gimildun" (she points to his stick-figure still in the corner of the slate) "is Pharazon."

Wanda isn't sure if those are names or second names or titles or some other designators? "Zimraphel Miriel?" she checks. "I'm just Wanda." It only occurs to her after she says it that this is liable to get her called Just Wanda.

She doesn't say that like it's a correction.  More like it's a title.

... Miriel had better not give her real title lest it be even more confusing.

"No..." (shakes her head.)  "Miriel."

Wanda still doesn't understand the significance. Maybe Zimraphel is her family name, and Miriel is for friends? In that case she's honored to call her Miriel!

Miriel tries to think - after the revelations of the Valar's love, and Wanda's hug - what's important to ask now...

Oh.  There's still one important question.

"Does the king" (she sketches a crown since Wanda obviously knows about them) "of Andoran understand Saranrae?"

Oh no, that's a very legitimate question but Wanda has absolutely no idea how to explain in mime and stick figures that Andoran has no king! It's hard enough to explain to people with words - Galt tried to have a democracy and look where it got them.

She'll try to put off the 'king' question for tomorrow; hopefully what Wanda really wants to know is what gods the government and the powerful people who might become the government follow, not the exact way they're chosen. But it is important to get across that the government doesn't follow a single god to the exclusion of all others.

She draws a lot of little stick figures with a big crown over the group. Some follow the Sun, some the sword-and-sunburst, some the Thorny Rose, some the Bird or the Spiral. The leader (drawn bigger than the others) follows the Sword-and-Sunburst. And all these other symbols - the bow-and-arrow, the scales, the mug - are also fine (smiling stick figures!) - she tries to indicate that's not an exclusive list but that's pretty hard to get across.

But, for example, the pentagram or the skull: not alright! Frowning stick figures, crossed swords.

"So... the kings?... follow all of the Valar, and the ...High King?... follows Aule especially?  Good!"

If that is Aule?  She's still not sure.  And Arien isn't technically a Vala... but Osse isn't technically a Vala either, and still half the Numenorians would've called her one even back when most Numenorians were Faithful.

"And you have more than one king too?"  That actually feels like a relief to her!  Even though she has absolutely no idea whether that'd be a good or bad thing!  She really wants to ask Wanda how it works for Andoran!

... But what're those other two symbols?  She doesn't recognize them, unless the skull represents death?  If swords are clearly all right, then in what way would someone be following death or not?  And if it doesn't represent that, she's suddenly wondering what Wanda meant by the crowned skull earlier.

Miriel seems to approve of having plural rulers? She's so sensible! She probably learned it the hard way, living under King Geb, just as Wanda's ancestors learned from living under a Hellish tyrant.

This skull is for Nidal, a very different skull from Geb, but that's hard to explain and if Miriel doesn't know about Nidal (or Cheliax?) Wanda doesn't want to sadden or terrify her - certainly not with stick figures.

Back to a happier topic: people in Andoran follow different gods, but everyone here knows and loves Sarenrae. Not liking Sarenrae pretty much automatically makes you Evil. Stick figures + sun = smiles!

Ah yes, they like Arien just like Numenorians like(d) Osse.  If anything of what Miriel felt is unique to Arien, then she totally understands why everyone here values her!

Well! It seems they navigated all the difficulties and don't have anything more that's urgent until tomorrow when they can better understand each other! At least for a few minutes. Maybe Pharasma will give her something better, but mutual Comprehend Languages will work fine, it just won't last very long.

Tea? She gestures invitingly towards the kitchen, where there's a kettle and some cups and a jar with dry leaves in it.

"Something to drink or eat?  Yes, thank you!"  Miriel bobs a shallow curtsy to make hear meaning clearer.  "Andoran doesn't feel as hot as Umbar, but this's been a long day."

She'll follow Wanda into the kitchen, looking around curiously.  She hasn't seen many common people's kitchens before, so a lot of it will probably be new to her even if it's the same as in Numenor.

Wanda's kitchen isn't the most impressive in town (not even counting the inn with its fancy stove). All her children have moved out and cooking for two just isn't very efficient, so she kept gifting things things away until she has only the most basic pans and pots and so on left. Her time is better spent mending anything that needs it and making water and of course healing people than cooking; any complicated dishes mostly come from her neighbor these days, or from the inn if she hasn't planned ahead.

This isn't about serving the best food or having the fanciest equipment, though, it's about hospitality. You can't not offer guests to drink and eat at your table, they just got delayed by some other business first! There's a table and chairs and she can set out the nicer set of glazed-ceramic plates and cups, and there are scones and jam and half-day-old bread and hard cheese and some wrinkled apples and a jar of olives.

The fireplace itself is in the main room; it's banked and the window is open, but she can get it reasonably hot again in a few minutes. The big empty kettle goes on an iron frame that goes over the fire and then (making sure to catch Miriel's eye) Wanda holds her spiral pendant and gestures with her other hand and says something, and then -

- the kettle is suddenly full of water.

It's charmingly rustic.  Miriel smiles at the plates especially.  They look homemade, like she's never seen outside occasional prizes of war and museums.  The kettle frame puzzles her until she sees it in use, and then it does make sense.  It all looks - lived-in, something that makes sense.

And then, water appears.

"Another gift of the Valar?" she babbles.  "Ulmo gives water?  Fresh water, like from His rivers?"  

It's the gift of every god! 

Tomorrow, Miriel pray Sarenrae, Miriel water!

Every Vala?  Miriel can see some connection with Arien - the sun evaporates up the rain - but every one of them?  Even Mandos (of the Scales) and Aule (of the Sword)?

Yes, all of them! These poor people from Geb, of course even if they know clerics get spells other than healing they wouldn't know which ones.

Also, some of these she can use lots of times, all day. Look: water water water water water (out the open window)!

But some are only a few times. Wanda prayed today to understand Miriel, and that was once, and she will pray again tomorrow. Wanda and Miriel both channeled (wide circle gesture) and can do it a few times per day (she shows four fingers) but no more than that.

...there are probably some spells that only some gods give their clerics but Wanda doesn't think any of hers are like that and doesn't want to try explaining that with stick figures.

So...

Miriel takes her cup (carefully over a bowl) and holds out her sun necklace and happily reaches inside herself looking for something else that might feel like a gift from the Valar...

She can heal dying people by touching them. And she can be better at - convincing people, impressing them, affecting them, her spirit burning a bit more brightly in the eyes of others and also in the eyes of the world itself. This power can be used for herself, or gifted to other people.

Now that Wanda has drawn her attention to this, both of these abilities feel like they will run out after enough uses, just like the mass healing.

The cup isn't a dying person or a spirit, so she can't do anything magic to it.

No, sorry, she'll need to pray first! But then she'll be able to do it.

...actually, why can't Miriel pray right now? She hasn't prayed for spells today yet, so it should be possible, right? Or at least, it's worth trying, if Miriel understandably doesn't want to wait for tomorrow.

Wanda tries to mime "I suddenly got a bright idea", which may or may not work across cultural boundaries.

So! Wanda has prayed today (her finger indicates the sun going backwards), and can pray again tomorrow.

But Miriel can pray now! (And also tomorrow.) And then, probably, Miriel will get spells today.

...this means Wanda has to explain how to pray for spells without even a Comprehend Languages up. Well, she'll do her best.

So! To pray for magic, you need to pray for an hour. Drawing: sun goes around the sky and down below the earth and back again; divide the circle into twenty-four approximately equal segments (ugh), that's an hour. She needs to pray for an hour - pray pray pray while the Sun slowly creeps across an hour-division of the drawing - and mustn't stop. If she stops (Wanda mimes) that's bad, she has to start from the beginning. And then she will get spells, and can finally understand Wanda (fingers crossed!)

Wanda adds her best bird-stick-figure to the drawing, and prays a brief apology to Shelyn for not being a better artist, because it turns out art is surprisingly useful and Wanda suspects that treating it as merely a useful tool is wrong in Shelyn's eyes. She'll try to practice so next time she can enjoy communicating by drawing, instead of feeling vaguely ashamed of her stick-figures.

Also, the water is boiling and they should have their tea before Miriel starts praying for an hour. 

Wanda moves the kettle-frame off the fire. What would Miriel like to drink? She can have mint or chamomile (which she can hopefully identify by smell), in addition to or instead of the actual precious tea-leaves.