Collaboration with [@Adeline] for Magnolia.

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[center][h3][i][u]Mid Morning Continued[/u][/i][/h3][/center]

	[b]“Are you quite sure?”[/b] Magnolia’s endearing timidity returned.

	Caelum couldn’t handle it. A subtle breath escaped from his nose as his slight smile deepened and his brow furrowed upward softly. A sudden ache—something too precious to bear—squeezed his heart for a beat.

	He offered an open palm.

	[color=a36209][i]“Quite,”[/i][/color] he said. His voice finally wavering. A flame flickered by the Lagoon's breath.

	Magnolia slowly, tentatively grasped his hand. He gingerly led her a few paces to the hollow log. Suddenly looking over his shoulder, Caelum paused, searching. He quickly spotted Muricle gradually making his way toward them. Smirking, he turned back to the door.

	It was a large, rounded thing. Made out of driftwood and entirely coated in a deliberate layer of deeply verdant moss. He placed his free hand on the only part exposed—a gnarled handle of sorts—and smoothly pushed it open.

	[color=a36209]“Welcome,”[/color] he said warmly as he led her inside—being sure to leave the door open for his new little friend.

	Inside, it was dimly lit by his walnut shell lantern and ambient sunlight from a couple of carved holes that served as windows.

	The fire danced with a life of its own. The fairy might notice, but would not know how closely the flame mirrored the flutter in Caelum’s chest.

	[color=a36209]“Please, make yourself at home,”[/color] Caelum said—as much to the frogling as to the fairy. Out of necessity, he slowly laid her hand down and walked toward the lantern.

	The door had opened to a spartan, though cozy main room. While plenty wide enough, the room stretched back most of the length of the log. There was a couch of sorts, as well as a couple of chairs—one with almost no wear—and a small table, some shelves and cabinets for storage, too. Everything was entirely coated in the same, thick, emerald moss. The deep green and brown palette gave everything a pleasant earthiness—especially the scent.

	Caelum plucked the lantern from the table. Turning to her again, he smiled. She was looking about, absentmindedly stroking Muricle while her eyes slowly took in the space.

	[color=a36209]”This way, if you wish,”[/color] Caelum said, offering his hand again. She approached him and took it, with a bit more confidence this time. Caelum then guided her gently to the back—toward his sanctum.

	After several paces he stopped at a door-less entryway. A pair of Mallard flight feathers hung from above acting as a barrier between rooms. The sparrow gently released the fairy’s hand—once more feeling the absence—and parted one of the feathers so that Magnolia could enter.

	Once they were inside, the living lantern revealed a mossy bed nestled in the center of an otherwise empty chamber. Caelum followed behind.

	Magnolia's eyes widened, the lantern making them glow brighter as she slowly took in the space.

	[color=a36209]“Here,”[/color] Caelum offered softly as he held out the lantern.
	
	After a moment she tore herself away and curiously turned toward him once more.

	[color=a36209]”Feel free to look around, but this will make it easier."[/color] Noticing the puzzlement on her face, Caelum let out an involuntary, breathy chuckle. [color=a36209]"Don’t worry. She won’t bite.”[/color]

	The flame stirred, its light dancing in quiet joy. It curled upward, brightening briefly—as if in recognition.

	[color=a36209]“Oh?”[/color] Caelum began with a hushed awe, tinged with mirth. [color=a36209]"I think she likes you."[/color]

	Magnolia cautiously accepted the lantern. Caelum went the few paces to the center and took a seat on the edge of the moss—leaning back on his arms. He watched as the quiet young fairy perused his secret gallery, never venturing very far from his side.

	Strewn across the curved, mossy walls were a great many sketches—some still lifes of flowering plants and quiet foliage, others of a variety of animals—especially birds, with a clear fondness for waterfowl. A great deal more depicted various fairies and sparrowmen of the Hollow going about their days or at rest, as they lingered in quiet communion with their surroundings—including one of a rather languidly lounging Sir Idris, shirt parted, chest bared, gaze half-lidded.

	[color=a36209]“I’m particularly proud of [i]that[/i] one,”[/color] Caelum said just as Magnolia’s eyes found the sketch. His smirk, audible.

	Magnolia studied the walls. Caelum studied [i]her[/i]—lantern light caressed her Lagoon-blessed features. It traced the soft contours of her face, her iridescent wings aglow, her silvery curls damp and gleaming. 

	Once she was finished, he accepted his lantern back and sat it beside him. He patted the space next to him, offering a place to rest. Muricle instantly hopped into the space with a gentle croak. A surprised chuckle escaped Caelum’s grin.

	A smile finally graced Magnolia's lips at Muricle's antics. She decided to sit right where she was, upon the floor before Caelum.

	[color=a36209]“Well…”[/color] Caelum began softly as he gently patted the frogling. [color=a36209]“Where do you think the latest addition should go?”[/color]

	Magnolia glanced up to him before looking around his art strewn home. After a moment, an open space next to a small window caught her eye and she smiled again. Without looking back to him, she gestured at the space.

	[b]“What about over there?”[/b] She asked softly. [b]“That way the picture catches the light.”[/b]

	Caelum could not have imagined a better place for the sketch.

	[i]Catch the light,[/i] Caelum echoed in his mind. [i]You certainly do just that...[/i]
	
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[center][h3][i][u]10:06 PM[/u][/i][/h3][/center]

	It was now about an hour or so past when Caelum usually found sleep for the night. The restless sparrow stared up from his bed in the dimmed light of the resting flame. His dark orbs were locked on the image he had sketched that morning—Magnolia, reluctantly departing her home—where it was lovingly nestled among the multitude of other sketches. Nestled in the very spot the fairy herself had chosen. He couldn’t stop replaying that morning. 

	It was mere hours ago... it felt more like a week.

	The rest of his day, after he had walked her—and, of course, Muricle—home, Caelum had done exactly what he was doing now—the second sketch remaining unfinished. There were the hours where he had to return to his duties: an endless daily slog of gradually scouring the Hollow for rot and carefully burning it away. But even then, his thoughts remained only on the events of the morning. The job wasn’t particularly stimulating—perfect for a preoccupied mind—but it [i]was[/i] necessary. Hell, it was the main reason the council… tolerated him.

	And then, as the evening approached, came the lighting of the Hollow’s lanterns. Another menial task, dulled by over a century of repetition. Yet each flame reminded him—of the glow of her wings, and the gleam in her hair.

	The moss around him still held the warmth of her presence. The flame seemed quieter tonight, as if remembering. Even with the lantern of living flame, the room felt colder in her absence...

	[b][color=fff200]“Caelum!”[/color][/b] A sudden voice shattered the reverent silence. The flame below roared to attention.

	In the dim of his private hollow, Caelum stirred. He rolled over toward the door, eyes squinting in the sudden flare of light that was now casting ominous shadows across the space. Caelum knew who it was, even without seeing him. The unmistakable voice of Sir Idris, the Lord of Light himself, stood just outside his door. Then he sighed and rose from his bed of moss and strode down the length of the log to the door, gently pulling it open and peering out.

	[color=a36209]“Good evening, Sir Idris,”[/color] he said, curiosity concealed by practiced formality. He noted the thinly veiled concern on his mentor’s face. Caelum's own brow furrowed with caution. [color=a36209]“Do you have need of me?”[/color]

	Idris grinned, despite himself.

	[b][color=fff200]“That’s why I like you, Caelum. You’re always so calm, polite, and direct,”[/color][/b] Sir Idris said, his famous cadence rapid yet fluid. [b][color=fff200]“It saves a lot of time—of which, we have precious little, and are running out of ever so quickly. Come. Throw a shirt on, and I’ll fill you in on the way.”[/color][/b]