It may have been partly that the household seemed more comfortable, more complete. But closer to the point, she provided, however unintentionally, a focus. In her way, she was the embodiment of what they struggled to preserve.
Anest had never studied the arts of war or magic for his own sake. In fact, he could not have given answer to his efforts, except that there was some comfort or stability in performing the routines and disciplines associated with them. Now, he no longer needed any answer; Lily was all the answer he needed. Perhaps, Belloc mused, becoming a wizard need not be a solitary, often a very lonely occupation.
One day, when Anest was out hunting for game with Mullen and Pip, Belloc found Lily alone in the upper living-room, drawing on a large sketch-pad. It was a picture of a tiny faerie she drew, with fine lace wings, casting gossamer spells about her.
"Why Lily," the wizard exclaimed, "that is remarkable! Who taught you to draw? I've never seen Anest cast more than the odd illustration."
She smiled her shy smile that so endeared her to the wizard. "I saw some drawings in several of your books. I tried copying them at first. Anest said I should try to make up my own."