#themagesapprentice

Welcome to scenic Isola Radiale, Shallotte!

You will be housed in HOUSE 139.

You will retain your ability to create five curative items per day and be given a broom purchased from the dollar store.

A lovely alias used for any form of report work, with her own wig and outfit to match. Elluka preferred it this was, especially since 'Hanne Lorre' was rather popular. Using the name, and a rare wave of a special pass, she was able to get access to a certain mental institution. The main goal of miss Lorre was to make an article on a writer who had been admitted there.

She went through a screening process. Making sure she had nothing dangerous on her(in which an argument arose about the custom pen she had), making sure she would be safe. Then a room was prepared. Hanne wasn't sure what would lay on the other side, but she entered with a calm expression and attitude, pen and journal in hand. She had a small recorder attached to the jacket of her coat, and flipped it on when she sat before the girl.

Aislinn is pretty casual when speaking, but not too much.

It was a bright, shining hope for a wondrous future. One that would not have been possible were it not for the Sorceress. However, the one who made it possible would not allow her to taint such a paradise with her stained hands. She had figured, as anyone would, that the ones who knew of her would pass on her legacy.

And let that be so, Elluka thought to herself as she wandered the ruins of the old world. She could navigate it with no problems, after memorizing the place by heart.

She had traveled a very long time.

She had seen snowy mountains and blazing deserts,

She had made huge graveyards for those who had died.

She had watched buildings fall into disrepair and become overtaken by the land.

Now, she was tired. So tired, and yet she had only just begin to serve out her sentence. Even after thousand years, only a fraction of her sin was washed away.

Her blonde hair had become long, trailing the forest ground behind her. She always said she'd cut it, but rarely did so. In the world that heard only the wind and rain, the small crunches of her hair brushing against leaves was a comfort. But repetitive, so repetitive. Elluka longed to hear a voice that was not her's, to feel the touch of another human being. But that was an impossible dream, and one she wouldn't entertain herself with.

So, she walked. She walked to the huge tree that had once contained Michaela, still steadily growing after those thousands of years alone.

"...Hello, old friend," Elluka spoke in a hoarse voice, dry after years of not being used. She knew there would be no reply, knew the spirit had long since left. 

And yet, the eternal silence of the destroyed world was broken with a name--