Over the last four weeks of mage training with the Goddesses, Izenakee had learned to distinguish Who was speaking based on the character of Her voice. As soon as she noticed the trend, it was very easy.

Both had unusual mannerisms compared to regular people, especially Menelyn.

Unless She was speaking about a grave topic or purposefully adopting a different tone, Menelyn spoke in a distinctly sing-song way, and with a higher pitch than Izena despite using the same fundamental voice. Izenakee found it very enchanting, and would sometimes forget to listen to the underlying words. She badly wanted to hear Her give a genuine, intentional singing performance. It would surely be a legendary event.

In contrast, Izena's speech was more clipped and precisely enunciated.

Izenakee had found it curious, but put it down to personal quirks. She had been astonished when her spellcasting training had revealed that the cause was much more interesting.

"The base of purification spells is something like: haaaAAA-yiiiIII," sang Menelyn, at a high pitch. "But using mana flow from the pool, of course, not the actual voice. A different color of mage would not be able to produce the right pitches and inflection. Their magical vocal organs just can't produce white magic. You can add details to the spell to accomplish the actual effect that you intend. Fully purifying water is the simplest, something like this: haaaAAA-KEEEeee-yiiiIII."

Just those little mini-performances were enough to give Izenakee chills.

"If you were a white mage, you would be practicing that spell right now. Very complex white magic is, in a magical vocalization sense, like a very complex song. Casting multiple different spells simultaneously is like singing multiple songs simultaneously, often with very different requirements for the flow, and so forth."

And then Izena had demonstrated a simple black magic spell.

"Koht zahd," Izena said. "That is My best approximation of the baseline for lightning. Cast by itself, it will make a little spark. Black magic requires precise pronunciation and enunciation, in contrast to the pitch control and long channels of white magic. A white mage simply can't do it."

Izenakee's mouth had hung open for a moment. It was such an epiphany that it momentarily removed her filter.

"That's why Your voices are different! They're both like Your spellcasting!" she exclaimed.

"Yes, I suppose it is impossible for Our spellcasting habits not to rub off into speech," Izena admitted. "We are so accustomed to 'speaking' magically in a certain way, that We speak the same way with Our regular voices to some extent."

Izenakee really wanted to hear that performance. This meant that the White Goddess basically had more than a millennium of singing practice from Her magic, to the extent that it had leaked into Her speech! Izenakee was very well acquainted with how closely connected the two kinds of breathing were. What would it sound like if She sang Her best interpretation of a very complicated spell? Her memory was perfect, right? Menelyn would be able to reproduce any spell that She had ever performed, perfectly.

Four weeks of living in the Goddesses' Sanctuary had dangerously loosened her inhibitions. Izenakee found herself speaking before they had a chance to kick in.

"I'd love to hear You sing one of Your resurrections."

The Goddess blinked.

...Did I just ask the Salvation Goddess to sing for me?! For like half an hour?!

Izenakee's eyes widened at her own audacity, hands leaping to her mouth. The Goddess said nothing for a while.

At last, Menelyn responded.

"I will do My best to give a reasonable interpretation of the first resurrection that I ever performed, where I performed it, when you manage to ask Me again with red magic."

...And She said yes?! Where had Her first resurrection been? In the main chamber of the Dome?

Izenakee had already been motivated enough.

"So," Izena broke in, "the 'words' for the red magic spell that Menelyn has in mind--"

The Goddess was staring at Izenakee, and eventually looked disappointed.

"Come on, nothing? You're no fun."

Izenakee was pretty sure that the Goddess' eye-roll just now had been from Menelyn.

"Well, anyway, the spell is very simple, in fact, it's just a single monotone note, to establish a link to your target's mind. The difficult part is that the correct pitch changes depending on your target, their current thoughts, and emotional state, and you need to match whatever it happens to be very precisely. Figuring out the target's current correct pitch requires you to try many different ones and determine where you are getting the strongest response, until you zero in on the perfect one. It is easiest if you can get what the target is thinking, and their emotional state, to be consistent, so you can make a more accurate first guess."

Izena grinned devilishly.

"For today's practice, I'll keep calling My Sister a 'pretty little cutie pie.' She will be consistently very embarrassed but secretly enjoying it. Ready?"

"Izena!" Menelyn...squeaked?!

...The Goddess was blushing?!

Izenakee had a feeling that, after four weeks of being roommates, the Goddesses had started to let Their guard down around her, too.

----

Four more weeks had passed. In the meantime, Izenakee had managed to meet the White Goddess' condition for Her performance.

They had flown since dawn in a two-seat bench made from Her mana, west across the ocean, going through Izenakee's standard exercises on the way. Sunset approached, but the Goddess was bright enough that it didn't matter.

Eight weeks ago, Izenakee would not have been able to endure this kind of special treatment, but she had leeched a lot of courage since then.

The young red mage observed her target. She looked...pensive? Nostalgic? Melancholy? Izenakee eventually found the right pitch, and decided that she would dare to ask her burning question.

<Is the place we're heading, where You were? When You were...gone?>

The White Goddess stared ahead for a moment before answering.

"Yes," She said finally. "It's where I grieved. It's a very peaceful place. I've wanted to come back, with Izena, but always felt that there was more to be done, that We couldn't spare the time yet, that it was irresponsible. But now, having a mage of every color returned to the world, spells of every color being cast once more...it makes it feel like it will be alright. The world will be fine for a few days. We've been rebuilding for fifty-five years. And if We bring you, then We're still training you, still accomplishing something, so it is fine to go. And thank you, for that."

Currently, Izenakee could only place words into her target's mind, and only from short range--apparently, long range required another red mage or a non-mage using an enchanted item simulating one--but she didn't need red magic arts to know that the Goddess trusted her a great deal for some reason, in order to be speaking to her like this.

"She respects your dedication and enthusiasm," Izena clarified, also not needing red magic to read minds in the current circumstances. "We both do. And frankly, We just like you. More than anything else, Our time with you has made Us feel like We have really accomplished something. Like the world will be fine, even if some lunatics manage to get past Our Guards one night while We're sleeping."

Izenakee hadn't leeched that much courage. Her heart was pounding, and she stared at her lap.

Eventually, the White Goddess landed on an island that looked like...that looked like Salvation Herself had lived on it for 1000 years. Izenakee could only stare. She felt like she should pray, but the birds that greeted her were distracting.

"Hii-iiii ev-ry-one," Menelyn sang, then giggled. Izenakee couldn't help joining. It was a very ticklish experience. From the context, Izenakee could guess the target of Her first resurrection.

The Goddess rose, some birds perched on Her arms, shoulders, and head. Those that couldn't fit crowded around Her on the ground, or targeted Izenakee instead. She turned toward Izenakee.

"My ultimate goal is to make the world as peaceful as this place, where everyone can trust freely, by default, because no one has ever known harm, or at least knows that harms will be healed. Thank you, for being so eager to help with that."

Izenakee nodded and blushed. "It amazes me that I can be helpful, and that I might be useful to You. And...it makes me proud. I'm proud to be a red mage. I will do my best."

It was the honest truth.

Menelyn smiled. "Good, you should be proud, I know you will do your best, and you will be very helpful, the most helpful of all. I will refill the pool, and then...do My best."

The Salvation Goddess really did do Her best interpretation, as She had promised. Her Light show in the pool, reflecting off the avian audience, in combination with the ethereal song, in this place, was...magical. She really did have a millennium of practice.

It was good that the White Goddess didn't give all-out public performances, Izenakee decided. The world was not yet ready to experience this. Eight weeks was barely enough to keep her mana attached to her body.