Iskzie

Defiance runs in all Mirrors, and especially in little Iszie. Laws are for those without the creativity and courage to bend them. Gravity is for the weak. Even though she is too small to fly, Arcane magic hums in this little hatchling, magic fueled by defiance and the desire to see just what would happen if she really tried.

There was a tiny hatchling in the hoard. A tiny orange-and-blue mirror, sitting innocently in the hoard, surrounded by bits and pieces of things and what looked like 3/4ths of a sailboat, floating around her like a belt of asteroids. A tiny, orange-and-blue mirror hatchling, barely old enough to fly, were she not Arcane, who Winaiili had never seen before. She was not any hatchling the great Guardian knew of.

She was attempting to weld two pieces of wood together.

She was succeeding.

She was a strange mirror hatchling, in the hoard, making a boat (and also a mess!) and she hadn’t noticed Winaiili watching her, so intent was she on her work. And however she’d gotten in here, past all the wards, and warnings, and various layers of misdirection and at least one totally illusory wall— Well, that probably meant something. And it PROBABLY didn’t mean Winaiili needed to examine the outer edges of the Hoard for gaping holes. (Probably!) And, well, this wasn’t the FIRST time strange hatchlings appeared in the Hoard.

It was the first time a strange hatchling appeared to be making a floating sailboat, though.

Winaiili smiled, and settled herself among the piles of things to watch. (And intervene if the hatchling tried anything TOO dangerous— being Arcane would protect her from things falling on her head, but it would not protect her from fire or accidentally welding something to her own claws…)

Ultramel Amphithere