Xaviers!

"Especially not with modern machinery."

"Yes, they are very...tidy by nature but, they become very versatile when in service to a master or mistress. They can make invaluable thieves and spies, so long as they are not asked to violate their own sense of morality."

Sean chuckled softly at Sam's comment before wincing again.

Oh, bloody hell broken ribs are a bother...

"Details left out of the bestiaries," Sean said, "Won't lie, probably could use one for when I disappear for days at a time in the workshop."

"Human knowledge of the fey is...lacking and often misinterpreted. Not as useful in workshops if human ley magic is in use."

"Given that aside from some humans these are longest actual conversations a human mage has had with any fey I'm not surprised there aren't more misunderstandings," Sean said with a shrug. "Human magic affects the brownie's abilities?"

She looked thoughtful. "Very much and more. Fey are magic made sentient, living, breathing, feeling bits of the Source. Human magic and fey magic are like cousins, compatible but not the best of ideas to do so."

"Interesting," Sean said, "Sharing the same root, but on distant branches. Fey magic doesn't seem to have affected human magic, but perhaps it's simply because human magic is more... structured."

"It is how your minds work and how you are build physically. You take the raw, shape and bend it to your liking. The reaction aren't always explosive when crossing the two but...there are many stories of men who walked through the Feywild, but dwelling there for any length of time was never good for ones health. Same for Fey here."

"...it wasn't always that way," Sam mutters, seemingly on reflex.

"It wasn't?" Sean asked Sam raising an eyebrow.

"I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Stories mostly. Not even my mother is old enough to remember the time when there was only one magic, even she grew up with only stories of that time."

Sean was quiet for a moment considering what Sam and Vivienne were saying.

"What like the legends and creation stories involving the elder gods?" Sean asked, "Gaea, Oshtur, Set, and...

A name whispered in the back of his mind. Something he couldn't quite place. All dirt and darkness.

...Chthon. They always sounded more like ramblings than anything concrete."

"Sometimes I get... flashes. Glimpses of something older."

"It's hard to know what will bring them on."

"In the beginning there was darkness, then the spark...the light...magic...life...self awareness."

"The Demiurge source of all creation," Sean said eyes distant as if finally recalling some long forgotten memory.

"Hey, Viv," the wolf says from the corner, breaking into the conversation, "Do me a favor and say goodbye to Illsa for me. Tell her her food was delicious."

She perks up on hearing the wolf speak again.

"...Tereza?"

The wolf still hasn't left the corner and doesn't look up. "What?"

"I just... wondered if she was talking to us again," she sighs.

"For the moment."

"...you're not getting sent away, love."

"Or if you are, they'll have to send me away too."

"And myself."

"You two... don't. Just don't. You know you don't want that, Sam, and you know you don't want that for Viv either. This isn't some tropical island we're talking about, it's Muir."

"I don't want it for you, especially when it's my bloody fault you're in this mess."

"What we want and what we need are sometimes very different things. I said I was yours, I go where you two go."

The wolf just gives a huffing sigh and Sam can feel the wolf rise back to the surface.

"...I bloody hate this," Sam mutters, sparing another venomous glance for the giant isopod.

"We are a team, always." She said as she stood at Tereza's cell then walked to Sam's placing her hand on the barrier.

"You have power, you choose how to wield it."

"And Sean, if you ever have more questions, come find me."

"Careful what you offer Vivienne because it's more how many questions than if there will be any," Sean said with a smile before moving to make sure the prisoners were secured as he was feeling like he was intruding on some kind of moment.

"...should've asked for clothes," Sam grumbles, slumping down against the wall of the cell.

She smiled over her shoulder. "As you wish, Love."

Ten minutes a small tidy looking woman appears at the barrier to Sam's cell. She seems more then a little stunned by the situation before her.

Softly she clears her throat. "Hmm...mistress?"

She looks up, blinking.

"...not any mistress of yours, I don't think."

"I am Ilsa. With respect, you are a being of great power. You are 'mistress' just as the mortal monarch of the Isle is always 'majesty'." She makes a polite tiny bow.

"I was told to aid the lady loves of the Daughter. You are the bearer of the Raven Mantle. It is a honor and a privilege. I have met the Silver Wolf and her honest kind words of praise are why I live to serve."

"How may I aid you best?"

"...oh, I thought she'd just raid my dresser."

"We ah... probably need some clothes."

"She mentioned you may need more then clothing and were in a unique situation. I can provide a variety of items, healing or...bathing? If you prefer your own fashions I can fetch those with ease."

"I'm not... picky, really. I just get the feeling I may be here awhile."

"See to Tereza first."

"See to her first" comes the response from the corner, "I don't need anything."

She looks between the two women and nods. "Your affections are admirable, but the Wolf is right." She blinks out of existence for a moment and returns in a similar fashion, her arms laden with cloth and clothing as well as a familiar covered earthen cauldron. She kneels, removes it's lid and speaks into it.

"Little pot little pot 1,2,3. I need you to make Mother Meg's tea for me." She replaces the lid

She then carefully places several large linen cloths over the lid and pushes forward, into the barrier, slowly passing it through.

"The tea will heal internally if drunk. It can be used to clean and heal outward injuries as well. I suggest one before the other. Though the pot's contents will always be safe and fresh." she then pushed a very neatly folded stack of clothing forward and through the barrier, careful not to touch it herself.

"The wolf's stubborn, which is sometimes good," she sighs.

"Wait, you want me to wash in this?"