"What... is the work that they do...? I only know that they love people."

"- that's what they do. When they touch somebody, they know all about them, and they love them, and the the person they're touching can feel it."

"So people pay to... touch them? And they can keep doing it after they're dwindled—but not take new ones—so touching someone new is where the cost happens?"

"Right. Don't touch redmages."

"I will definitely not touch any redmages!"

"- I mean, you can if one offers, they don't have to sell all their capacity for money, but treat it very seriously."

"I don't think I would like being known like that unless I knew the person who knew me."

"Yeah, it's usual to be more than passingly acquainted first, they can't take it back. You can probably land one if you want one, though, red-gold is a common combination."

"Maybe if I meet one I get along with."

(But she's pretty sure she won't.)

"Do you want me to show you around the Temple-Guild?"

"Sure!"

So around they go, giving white- and redmages a lot of space. There are houses, full of mage families who don't look related and live-in servants, and servants' quarters, and common kitchens, and shrines, and stables, and storerooms, and a wall of names of mages from the whole history of the temple-guild.

She glances at the wall of names and tries to guess how many years of history it represents.

Hundreds, looks like.

"That's a lot of names."

"The temple-guild's been around a long time. Most of the godsprings in Cefax were discovered even longer ago than that, but the temple-guild system emerged later, I think? I don't remember for sure."

"...who decides how many new mages there will be?" she wonders. "What happens when you run out of space on the wall?"

"We could build some more wall. The senior mages decide based on what we can accommodate."

Thoughtful nod. More tour?

More tour! Laundry, garden, classrooms, hospital area.

Things are so interestingly different here than at home. She tries to identify the plants in the garden and mostly fails, but that would be expected even if they were all common in Eianvar, and nothing looks blatantly alien.

The servants in the garden incline their heads politely. The bluemages who are gardening too completely ignore her after looking up to see what the noise is.

At some point she will figure out what is up with bluemages but now is not that time.

"They're like that," Tsemo says apologetically. "It's not worth trying to make them be polite."

"It's okay," she says. "What's 'polite'—?"