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Aya names her adopted world Pantheon, and nicknames herself Spring (in the sense of springs of water, like those her goddess is of). Isabella and Adarin stay long enough to make her a mirror set (the other half accompanies them, in space in Isabella's portal bag made by the used-up resurrection herbs), make a portal in a nook of the chosen mountaintop between Pantheon and Chamomile, and leave a marker for another so there will be an easy chain from Chamomile to Pantheon to the home of the elderly and apparently lonesome Adarin.
And when they have done all of this, they stay long enough for not-lonesome Adarin to recover enough mana, and -
they go visit his alt.
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dark_light
dark_light
"Your terrible alt is terrible," she growls against his shoulder.
dark_light
"You have a ghost."
She checks on her thingamajigs and lets out a whoosh of breath.
"Alethiometer says I can make a spell that will correctly resurrect a mage, magic and ghost-continuity and all."
She checks on her thingamajigs and lets out a whoosh of breath.
"Alethiometer says I can make a spell that will correctly resurrect a mage, magic and ghost-continuity and all."
prodigal_miser
"That's - good, I suppose. Is it possible to shove my ghost - back into me?" Pause. "I don't think I like being 75% of myself..."
prodigal_miser
Hug. Hug hug hug.
"I love you," he murmurs, because he realizes he hasn't said that yet and he should.
"I love you," he murmurs, because he realizes he hasn't said that yet and he should.
dark_light
"I love you too, oh goddesses I'm so sorry for ignoring Path and for not checking before I tried the regular spell."
prodigal_miser
Snuggle, snuggle. "Love, it's all right, you have nothing to be sorry for."
dark_light
Hug.
Isabella peers at the thingamajig.
"...Cannot combine ghost live body," she reads. "Oh, fuck."
Isabella peers at the thingamajig.
"...Cannot combine ghost live body," she reads. "Oh, fuck."
dark_light
Isabella takes a deep breath in an attempt to stop from crying again.
Nope, failure.
Nope, failure.
prodigal_miser
Adarin holds his wife and pets her hair. "Shhh, it's okay, love..."
prodigal_miser
"You have nothing to be sorry for, dear, you resurrected me and the magic did something unexpected."
darkest_evening
His alt will just - be over there. Being miserable and sleep-deprived.
dark_light
Isabella fixes the Terrible Adarin with a very sharp look.
"You," she says, "how long will it take you to have the mana to get us to Pantheon so we can go home and I can have access to all the herbs I need and my original spell development notes and so my Adarin can have his daemon back?"
"You," she says, "how long will it take you to have the mana to get us to Pantheon so we can go home and I can have access to all the herbs I need and my original spell development notes and so my Adarin can have his daemon back?"
darkest_evening
"Three, four days?" Pause. "Shorter if I spend a very large portion of it sleeping?"
darkest_evening
"Right," he sighs. Then he gets up, heads to his house, and - flop.
prodigal_miser
He hugs her back, murmuring soothing things and snuggling her.
dark_light
Snuggle. Snuggle. There are probably logistics to work out about staying on this plane for the next several days but right now she just needs to hold him and work on not crying anymore, which is slow going.
prodigal_miser
That's entirely fine, Adarin is still having trouble keeping himself from falling over. Also, his wife is crying. This is Important and this needs to be Fixed and he will hold her for as long as she likes until it is. And then probably some more after.