The Isle

He frowned thoughtfully. "Given what I know of magic, anything crafted from pure aether is unlikely to remain if cut off from the source that supports it," he said. "Whether that's crystals, the mage who created it, or whether it's drawn from the land itself. Perhaps such things work differently here, but I suspect they will not remain."

He sighed as he looked at the supplies Chell produced. "A pity. We could find use for much of this and more. And for myself, I would give a great deal for a pint or two of good mead."