I stared at the measured motions of his hands, at the familiar patterns the figurines were shaping on the wooden surface – the outlines of islands I could dream by now. In between the flocks of colour, some parts of the archipelago remained strangely empty. Human isles. No magic to be found there, save for the occasional half fae in hiding. Something was itching against the back of my mind – not a thought yet, but a seed that might grow into a thought if I just knew how to water it.
