Everything was set when Samira departed. There would be no obligations for her to handle or contacts needing a word from her. She had delegated some of her more responsible spirits to handle that for her. Now, the Goddess of Ishgar would be free to spend the day without interruption. With the aid of Janus' power, the trip to Maisy's cottage was a quick one. The avatar of godly portals created a wormhole through time and space that connected the two places. Outside the village, of course. Glowing portals spontaneously appearing in the air was not good for anyone's hearts, especially those that had seen plenty of monsters come through them during one past event that would forever be remembered by the witnesses that experienced and survived through that tragedy.
The other event, the plague that had spread throughout the village and to the forest near it, had also almost become something for the history books. The cursed dark magic spell had waned with time and grew weaker. It was safe enough to return to the village itself. The forest past that still suffered through the effects. It was not safe to go exploring there or hunt. Returning permanently was still not a good idea. Still, a few of the villagers did not care for the warning and wanted nothing more than to return to their homes and try to go back to some type of normal. So they did. Maisy was one of them, but mainly so she could keep track of the effects of the plague and study the infected plants further. Plus, she wanted to make sure the villagers that did return were safe. If anyone would know when the danger had come back it would be her.
Wearing her usual outfit, Samira made her way into the village, obviously standing out just by her appearance and choice of wardrobe. True the villagers had seen her a few times by then, but that did not mean they could ever get over seeing a renowned mage walk around in heeled boots, or wear too many golden accessories than one should ever even own. They obviously lacked iLacs and everything else that would have connected them to the media to see the more outrageously dressed mages of Ishgar. The villagers would refrain from making comments of that nature. Instead, they would quickly rid themselves of the judgemental stares and put on warm smiles. They were the sort that remembered to be grateful and appreciate those that had helped them in the past. Samira returned the smile and nodded in greeting, never staying long enough to have a conversation with any of them. That could always be done later if she wished. For now, she only desired to reach her destination.
(Word Count: 669)