Themis smiles. "Gladly, my brother." She canters off, and returns a little later with a satchel slung across her human torso. From this, she produces a bottle each for all four of you.
Rachel gratefully opens the bottle, and is about to drink it - when she pauses, frowning. "Is this...magical wine, too?"
Ixion gives a belly laugh. "No - it's grape juice! We would not treat you as the satyrs did!"
Rachel sips at the bottle's contents - then gives you the thumbs up. You carefully taste the liquid in your bottle. The drink is cool, fruity, and refreshing. You smile at your hosts, in appreciation.
"So..., been here long?" you ask.
"We two are immortals who have returned from our native realm, a few of your earth years ago," Themis explains. "It is the same with a sample of each mythological species on this island. The magicians who control the admissions to these shores made a bargain with beings such as us. We, the satyrs, the merfolk, and others, came here to show you humans what exists beyond your science - and offer those who wished it, the chance to partake of a new life."
"You mean some have..." Rachel's hand shoots up to her mouth.
Ixion gestures with his hand to the other centaurs in sight. Two of them - both males - are now watching you, in interest. "About four of our herd were once halflings such as yourself. Now they are complete..."
"Halflings," you repeat.
Ixion smiles at you. "Humans - you call yourselves! To us, you are half-centaur, and half-other! Halflings! And a number of your kind, in the past two years, came to this island for a...holiday...you call it?"
You nod.
"For some, their...holidays...are now those of a lifetime! They are now forever citizens of the island. Those who bare the horns and hooves of the satyrs. Or the tails of the merfolk. Or have taken their place in the werewolf pack... That is the function of the island! To supplement the numbers of our declining races."
"But that's impossible!" Rachel cries. "Why has no one been reported missing?"