"I'm Carissa." She would love to understand whatever the subtext is but she has only one Detect Thoughts unused and might need it more. She Mends the socks too.

"Nice t- what did you just do to that sock?"

"I Mended it. I'm a wizard. I have Tongues up, too, I got here in some kind of magical accident and I don't speak your language normally." She mends the other sock.

Cachion stares. Dayr looks over his shoulder from his cheesing. "What's she done with it -"

"It's - look -"

Dayr looks.

"How'd you do that?"

So they have never seen magic before. It's - weird that he thought nothing of it, earlier - he thought she was lying? Deluded? Why would you have no magic but delusions of magic, magic is really hard and doesn't seem at all like something you'd have delusions about if the real thing didn't exist -

"I am a wizard. In the land that I am from, called Cheliax, promising students are taught arcane magic, the art of bending the world to your will, and I am a very weak wizard by the standards of my people but I am one." She is not a very weak wizard by any standard in the world but she had been assuming that casting Tongues revealed a lower bound on her capabilities that was, in fact, pretty much the whole of her capabilities and if that's not the case she can maybe conceal most of them. "I take it there are no wizards here?"

"You don't look that old," says Cachion.

"There are no wizards here," confirms Dayr, picking up a mended sock and squinting at it.

"I'm twenty-five." Six years of school, six years of military service, then you can consider whether you're most of service in some other way. "What do you mean that I don't look old? Would you be less surprised I could do this if I looked old?"

"- you said you weren't a very good wizard by the standards of your people," says Cachion.

"You don't look twenty-five to me," says Dayr.

"I was assuming they count by physical age," says Cachion, "and actually she's seven or eight - oh, or - are you not a very good wizard because you're in fact twenty five, made as a child and not very well specified for being a wizard -"

"It has been twenty five years since the year that I was born and I do not understand what other things I might mean by that, that's how age is counted by all people where I am from."

"Since you were born? What, do wizards grow baby people in cows?" says Dayr.

"In cows? No, in, uh, women." Gesture. 

"That's worse!" cries Dayr. "You can cast spells and you're supposed to grow people on top of that! What a waste!"

"Can you not be a wizard if you aren't born?" asks Cachion.

"How do people here - start existing? Are you all constructs?"

"...we're people," says Cachion. "People... make people? Like, Dayr made me, and Tashte made him but he's dead now..."

"What steps does this involve. Do you - build them out of clay and then - well, you can't have a wizard animate it -"

"...it doesn't involve a lot of steps," says Cachion.

"I mean, it does if you want it done right, I spent a while thinking you up," says Dayr. "But neither of us is going to make another one right here and now so you can watch."

"Do you pray for people and then they just show up?"

"See," says Dayr, "not knowing basic things like where people come from or what a round is is why I thought you were somebody's malicious pet project, before I saw the spell."

"It's not prayer," says Cachion. "It's just deciding how the person should be and - don't you make anyone either just to try it, though, you obviously don't know what you're doing."

"It can be done accidentally just by being curious how it works?"

"You won't do it by accident," says Cachion.

"A well-made person won't, who knows what somebody who was grown in a woman will have as a personal foible," says Dayr.

"So in this world, people are made by - thinking them up - what sort of traits can you give them? Do they always have free will?"

"...as opposed to what?" asks Cachion.

"In my world, where people are born, they have free will, which makes them - disobedient, and foolish, and willful and proud and not very good instruments of our gods, generally."

"...I don't think anybody's trying to make people who are instru-"

"Somebody's probably trying it somewhere," says Dayr.

"All right, someone's probably trying to make instruments of some sort of god, I guess, and we don't know how their state of the art is, but it's not usual to make people disobedient and foolish."

"State of the art? Are some things harder to make your people be than other things?"