Post by Lady Elestirne on Apr 19, 2007 15:14:25 GMT -5
Seventh Chapter
The sun rose bright and clear over Elentirmo's house and at first it was not seen that anything had changed. Gradually however, subtle indications of the passage of time began to be seen. Though it was spring again, as it had been before, it was immediately noted that time had passed since the night Elentirmo had stood gazing at the stars.
Though the sun was but barely up Elentirmo was already awake and about, as were Amaurea and Elestirne. The tall elf stood still a moment; his face turned to the east, to the rising sun. He closed his eyes briefly as a light breeze brushed his face, then turned to watch his family. His mouth twitched upwards in a faint smile; tinged with a hint of bittersweet sorrow.
Elestirne had grown since the night Elentirmo had stayed awake seeking answers of the stars and she it was that gave the first real clue to how much time had passed. Walking hand in hand with her mother she stood at about Amaurea's collarbone, or a little shorter. But it was not merely physical growth that gave away the passage of time, though Elestirne was now nearer in size to a mortal child of eight or nine, perhaps ten-as compared to that of a four or five year old. No, there was something else about Elestirne that gave away the passage of time. Something else, and that thing was soon glimpsed.
As Elentirmo stood unnoticed watching, his daughter-walking hand in hand with Amaurea-paused a moment. Hair as night-dark as Elentirmo's own-with none of her mother's bright gold-shone with an otherworldly shimmer of silver sparkles as a light breeze lifted it and the child's startlingly clear grey eyes narrowed thoughtfully; a troubled look passing over her face. She stood motionless a moment-one moment only-then shook her head and moved on; a puzzled look replacing the thoughtful one.
Elentirmo, still unnoticed, nodded slightly to himself. She had sensed something- which Elentirmo knew not only because he had watched her, but because he had sensed it himself. There had been a change in the winds, a subtle shifting-sensed but not palpably felt. Elentirmo knew what it had been and his heart sank just slightly as he continued observing his daughter. Magic.
Amaurea hadn't sensed it; it hadn't been her kind of magic. Her magic was the natural kind-druidic magic, some called it. It had some spells, but it was largely innate-that is, it was not learned; the ability for it came from within in most cases. The kind he had sensed had been made magic; spell magic-the kind many high elves and magic-users among the other races often possessed and used. Elentirmo knew a little of it and could use that which he knew, though he seldom did. For Elestirne-his little Eles-to have also sensed it…his heart grew heavier with the realization, meant, likely, that she would have the ability to use it. This meant, inevitably, that they would have to go to the city at some point-as neither he nor Amaurea had the ability to instruct her. He had feared this would happen... But there was another cause to his fear. The magic he-and Elestirne, he forcibly reminded himself, even though she had not understood what it had been-had sensed had been dark magic, tainted. And it had been searching for...something. Worse still, he had recognized the touch of his family's ancient enemy in that one, tainted tendril of magic carried on the wind. His enemy….
Despite the warm, sunny morning Elentirmo felt a chill run up his spine. This did not bode well for him or his family. If his enemy had found him at last-after the long years the dark-haired elf had spent eluding him, if he found Elestirne… Elentirmo shuddered. He could not allow that to happen. There was nothing else to be done. He would have to go to Galion for council on what to do. The ancient Elven-mystic, more than anyone else, would know. He had to know. There was no one else Elentirmo trusted to tell, no one else he could go to. Galion was his only option.
With that thought-and one last glance to his wife and daughter-Elentirmo slipped away to gather his horse so he could go seek Galion. His and Amaurea's horses-and now the palfrey he had just recently found for Elestirne-dwelt in a grove a short distance from the house, but they were not confined only to there, and free to wander. This day he feverently hoped his stallion was to be found at grove.
As the tall elf entered the enclosed area a flurry of movement caught his eye and turned to see four or five lithe deer disappear into the bushes in a bound. He sighed. Had Amaurea been with him or in his place the deer would have stayed instead of fled. It was a wood-elven thing he supposed. He had neither time nor desire to dwell upon it.
To his relief, his stallion was in the grove, though the palfrey and Amaurea's mare were not. Elentirmo whistled softly and, in a moment, the tall horse had trotted up. At nearly 18 hands the black stallion was a good match for the tall elf-who nimbly tacked him up and swung astride with a pat to the muscular neck. The pair left at a trot and was soon lost among the trees.
Elestirne turned her head just in time to glimpse her father as he slipped away. Having long outgrown tugging on her mother's dress to get her attention, she spoke. "Where does Ada go Ama?"
Amaurea paused long enough in her stride to look back, surprise registering on her face as she saw her husband gone. Her lovely blue-green eyes darkened with worry before she regained her composure and answered her daughter. "Who can say? Sometimes your father has no reason, he simply does. Worry not dear one, he'll be back before nightfall I am sure."
"And the forest will protect us until he returns?" asked Elestirne; grey eyes earnest. "Like the stories Ama?"
Amaurea laughed a little as she answered. "Aye little one, like the stories. The forest looks after its own. I am a wood-elf, daughter of the forest, so it looks after me. And you are my daughter, so it looks after and protects you also."
"What of Father?"
Caught off guard, Amaurea stopped. Elestirne's face was solemn, eyes serious-all earnestness gone. The elf-woman's thoughts raced; scrambling to come up with an answer to the completely unexpected question. Elestirne asked again.
"Does the forest protect Ada also? Does it look after him and keep him safe? Ama?" Worry began to tinge the bright grey eyes that looked up at her with such solemnity.
Inwardly berating herself, Amaurea shook off her muteness. "The forest looks after Father in its own way youngling. And he looks after himself."
Her answer must have satisfied the child, for Elestirne's eyes brightened again. Relieved, the elf-woman sighed-but inwardly, she too, like Elestirne, wondered where Elentirmo had gone off to. It was not like him-very unusual in fact-to leave or go off somewhere without first telling or letting her know. The worry in her eyes deepened, but she resolved not to let it spread to Elestirne-though she couldn't help feel that something was amiss…
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Eighth Chapter
Meanwhile, Elentirmo trotted through the forest, in search of Galion-though, in reality, he knew searching for the seer was, at best, a futile endeavor. To begin with, the mystic did not actually live in the forest-at least, insofar as Elentirmo knew-and if he did, he oft moved, so that there was no telling where he currently dwelled.
Second, Galion was the type that, if he wanted to be found, he would be. If he did not, then he would remain hidden-however much he was sought, or urgently. But-for all the ancient seer's mysterious ways-Elentirmo did have some ideas, at least, of where to find him-and he was determined to search those areas thoroughly, either until the seer revealed himself or Elentirmo found him.
Suddenly getting a idea, Elentirmo wheeled his stallion around and set off in the opposite direction of which he had been originally heading; making for one of the seer's 'haunts-if it could be called such. Though Elentirmo accounted this place to be one of the seer's favorites for having seen or met him there most often, the mystic himself might not account it as such. There was no guarantee he would be there, but it was Elentirmo's best chance-the most likely place to find the seer, if he was in the forest-so Elentirmo had no other alternative but to go there and hope.
Within a few minutes he had reached the place-a grove deep in the forest with an ancient tree at its heart. Elentirmo looked around nervously as he entered; his stallion shying and snorting uneasily. If Galion were to be found anywhere, it would be here but-for whatever reason-this place unsettled him. It was too quiet. No birds ever sang here. No breath of wind stirred the trees. "Galion!" His voice echoed loudly; disturbing the eerie silence and sounding immensely out of place in the dark grove.
His dark stallion cavaled beneath him and he steadied the horse with a pat to his neck. The stallion's ears twitched and flicked to and fro. He side-stepped as Elentirmo called again; his voice louder and slightly desperate now. "Galion! Old one! I must speak with you!" No one answered. Nothing stirred. "Galion!" Still nothing. But Elentirmo could not shake the feeling that he was being watched.
Carefully, he scanned the grove, but saw naught. Little light seemed to penetrate in this part of the forest. "Galion!" His stallion snorted softly, calm now; ears upricked as if listening to-or perhaps for-something. The tall elf paused, then sighed as he realized he was going about it the wrong way. He was silent a moment, then spoke again. "Galion, please. I need you, I need your council."
"Doubtless," a mild voice suddenly said dryly behind him. "Truly; that I had guessed the moment I saw you enter the grove-for why else would you have cause to come here, to seek me out? What I do not know-and suspect will soon learn-is why you are here and what you need my council for so urgently that you saw fit to disturb the rest of the creatures dwelling hereabouts with your shouting."
Amaurea and Elestirne walked in sun-drenched woods not far from the grove. Though Amaurea was still wondering where Elentirmo had gone and why, she decided it was best to occupy herself in some activity or another rather than sit at home consumed with worry for her husband. So, the tall elf-woman decided to go for a walk, and to take Elestirne with her. She needed to gather some fresh herbs anyway and this would be a good opportunity for her to teach the child a bit more of herb lore and woodcraft.
She had already taught her a little-if it could be called that-by teaching the child as soon as she was able to understand what things to stay away from; what plants were poisonous; how to find her way home again if she strayed too far, and other useful knowledge that she would need to know sooner or later. But recently Amaurea had noticed that the child seemed intrigued by what her mother was showing and teaching her.
There was, Amaurea had noticed, a spark of genuine, definite interest in her daughter's eyes as she sat and listened to Amaurea speak about nature and the forest. It was as though the child truly wanted to learn about the forest, its creatures, and the world around her. This possibility warmed the wood-elf's heart. She might look her father's mirror image but it looked as though Elestirne was going to inherit her mother's love of the forest and the wood-elven respect and reverence for nature and its creatures. Amaurea was pleased by this discovery and also, in a way, relieved. She had feared that the high-elven blood would be dominant in Elestirne and that the wood-elven half would be repressed.
Amaurea loved her husband dearly but she had feverently hoped that her daughter would not only be born of both kindreds, as had been prophesied, but also possess in equality the traits and personalities of the two kindreds-for the wood-elf knew that being able to understand and know how both kindreds felt and thought would be a key to Elestirne ruling well and guiding, leading and governing her people and realm with fairness and justice. A leader that cannot understand their people cannot lead them well.
The tall wood-elf smiled a little then, and returned herself to the present with a mental shake. Taking Elestirne's hand, she smiled down at her daughter. "Come my child. We have much I wish to get done."
"Where are we going Ama? What will we be doing?" Elestirne's eyes were bright and shining; full of curiosity
Again Amaurea smiled; unable not to. "I have decided, little one, that you are old enough now for me to begin teaching you some of the ways of the forest and nature; the ways and habits of birds and beasts-some of which the knowledge is known only to wood-elves, children of the forest. Indeed, in some cases, it can only be learned by a wood-elf."
Elestirne's eyes grew very wide and round at that. "You mean secret things? What kind of things Ama?"
"That you shall learn child,"Amaurea laughed softly; smiling at her daughter " only if you are willing to be taught. And you must understand my beloved: that which is meant to be secret must-if taught to you-remain such. Do you understand me Elestirne?" The elf-woman bent down to be more on an even level with her child-who gazed back at her with large, solemn eyes that somehow had not lost that spark of interest. "If you are told something secret, knowledge meant for you alone, you must tell no one else it."
Elestirne thought this over for a long moment. "Not even Father Ama?"
"Not even your father," confirmed Amaurea, though it pained her to say it. "Some of that which you would learn-if you are willing-is knowledge known only to, or meant for, the children of the forests, the wood-elves; not to be told or revealed to those not of our kind."
Again, silence. Then, a puzzled look. "But Ama, how can I learn this? How might I learn knowledge meant for the wood-folk?"
Amaurea waited a moment-until she felt she knew what her daughter asked-then spoke. "You are my daughter dear one-my child, my blood. That is how you earn the right to the knowledge. Because you are my blood child."
"Father's blood too."
"Well yes…"said Amaurea;unsure where this conversation was going and a bit baffled and taken aback by the sudden and unexpected maturity and sense of age she heard in her daughter's voice.
"What does that make me Mother?"
Amaurea blinked, twice. Her daughter's gaze remained as steady as ever. Disconcerted by that bright, unwavering and uncannily penetrating look, she responded slowly; unsure exactly how to answer. "You are my daughter, and you are your father's also. His blood-and mine-mingle in you and make you what you are. You are the child of two kindreds child-mine and your father's. It all comes together in you."
"What all comes together in me Ama?"asked Elestirne, sounding-to the golden-haired elf's relief-like the young child she was once more. "What am I?"
The tall elf-woman lightly stroked the night-dark hair of her daughter; her voice grown rueful and soft-almost sorrowful. "We are all what Fate makes us-no more, no less-and who we choose to become. When the time is right daughter, you will learn what you are and what path is yours to tread." Kneeling, she kissed her daughter's brow, then rose. "But think not of it now! Leave off these deep, solemn thoughts and questions! They ill befit one so young as you. Come dear one!" She tickled Elestirne and her daughter's face became wreathed in smiles; her eyes alight as she doubled over in merriment. Amaurea laughed with her, then made an effort to regain her solemn look. "Come child," she said. "Come with me and let us see what the forest may teach." Eagerly, Elestirne complied; taking her mother's hand and following her without hesitation as the elf-woman moved deeper into the forest.
The sun rose bright and clear over Elentirmo's house and at first it was not seen that anything had changed. Gradually however, subtle indications of the passage of time began to be seen. Though it was spring again, as it had been before, it was immediately noted that time had passed since the night Elentirmo had stood gazing at the stars.
Though the sun was but barely up Elentirmo was already awake and about, as were Amaurea and Elestirne. The tall elf stood still a moment; his face turned to the east, to the rising sun. He closed his eyes briefly as a light breeze brushed his face, then turned to watch his family. His mouth twitched upwards in a faint smile; tinged with a hint of bittersweet sorrow.
Elestirne had grown since the night Elentirmo had stayed awake seeking answers of the stars and she it was that gave the first real clue to how much time had passed. Walking hand in hand with her mother she stood at about Amaurea's collarbone, or a little shorter. But it was not merely physical growth that gave away the passage of time, though Elestirne was now nearer in size to a mortal child of eight or nine, perhaps ten-as compared to that of a four or five year old. No, there was something else about Elestirne that gave away the passage of time. Something else, and that thing was soon glimpsed.
As Elentirmo stood unnoticed watching, his daughter-walking hand in hand with Amaurea-paused a moment. Hair as night-dark as Elentirmo's own-with none of her mother's bright gold-shone with an otherworldly shimmer of silver sparkles as a light breeze lifted it and the child's startlingly clear grey eyes narrowed thoughtfully; a troubled look passing over her face. She stood motionless a moment-one moment only-then shook her head and moved on; a puzzled look replacing the thoughtful one.
Elentirmo, still unnoticed, nodded slightly to himself. She had sensed something- which Elentirmo knew not only because he had watched her, but because he had sensed it himself. There had been a change in the winds, a subtle shifting-sensed but not palpably felt. Elentirmo knew what it had been and his heart sank just slightly as he continued observing his daughter. Magic.
Amaurea hadn't sensed it; it hadn't been her kind of magic. Her magic was the natural kind-druidic magic, some called it. It had some spells, but it was largely innate-that is, it was not learned; the ability for it came from within in most cases. The kind he had sensed had been made magic; spell magic-the kind many high elves and magic-users among the other races often possessed and used. Elentirmo knew a little of it and could use that which he knew, though he seldom did. For Elestirne-his little Eles-to have also sensed it…his heart grew heavier with the realization, meant, likely, that she would have the ability to use it. This meant, inevitably, that they would have to go to the city at some point-as neither he nor Amaurea had the ability to instruct her. He had feared this would happen... But there was another cause to his fear. The magic he-and Elestirne, he forcibly reminded himself, even though she had not understood what it had been-had sensed had been dark magic, tainted. And it had been searching for...something. Worse still, he had recognized the touch of his family's ancient enemy in that one, tainted tendril of magic carried on the wind. His enemy….
Despite the warm, sunny morning Elentirmo felt a chill run up his spine. This did not bode well for him or his family. If his enemy had found him at last-after the long years the dark-haired elf had spent eluding him, if he found Elestirne… Elentirmo shuddered. He could not allow that to happen. There was nothing else to be done. He would have to go to Galion for council on what to do. The ancient Elven-mystic, more than anyone else, would know. He had to know. There was no one else Elentirmo trusted to tell, no one else he could go to. Galion was his only option.
With that thought-and one last glance to his wife and daughter-Elentirmo slipped away to gather his horse so he could go seek Galion. His and Amaurea's horses-and now the palfrey he had just recently found for Elestirne-dwelt in a grove a short distance from the house, but they were not confined only to there, and free to wander. This day he feverently hoped his stallion was to be found at grove.
As the tall elf entered the enclosed area a flurry of movement caught his eye and turned to see four or five lithe deer disappear into the bushes in a bound. He sighed. Had Amaurea been with him or in his place the deer would have stayed instead of fled. It was a wood-elven thing he supposed. He had neither time nor desire to dwell upon it.
To his relief, his stallion was in the grove, though the palfrey and Amaurea's mare were not. Elentirmo whistled softly and, in a moment, the tall horse had trotted up. At nearly 18 hands the black stallion was a good match for the tall elf-who nimbly tacked him up and swung astride with a pat to the muscular neck. The pair left at a trot and was soon lost among the trees.
Elestirne turned her head just in time to glimpse her father as he slipped away. Having long outgrown tugging on her mother's dress to get her attention, she spoke. "Where does Ada go Ama?"
Amaurea paused long enough in her stride to look back, surprise registering on her face as she saw her husband gone. Her lovely blue-green eyes darkened with worry before she regained her composure and answered her daughter. "Who can say? Sometimes your father has no reason, he simply does. Worry not dear one, he'll be back before nightfall I am sure."
"And the forest will protect us until he returns?" asked Elestirne; grey eyes earnest. "Like the stories Ama?"
Amaurea laughed a little as she answered. "Aye little one, like the stories. The forest looks after its own. I am a wood-elf, daughter of the forest, so it looks after me. And you are my daughter, so it looks after and protects you also."
"What of Father?"
Caught off guard, Amaurea stopped. Elestirne's face was solemn, eyes serious-all earnestness gone. The elf-woman's thoughts raced; scrambling to come up with an answer to the completely unexpected question. Elestirne asked again.
"Does the forest protect Ada also? Does it look after him and keep him safe? Ama?" Worry began to tinge the bright grey eyes that looked up at her with such solemnity.
Inwardly berating herself, Amaurea shook off her muteness. "The forest looks after Father in its own way youngling. And he looks after himself."
Her answer must have satisfied the child, for Elestirne's eyes brightened again. Relieved, the elf-woman sighed-but inwardly, she too, like Elestirne, wondered where Elentirmo had gone off to. It was not like him-very unusual in fact-to leave or go off somewhere without first telling or letting her know. The worry in her eyes deepened, but she resolved not to let it spread to Elestirne-though she couldn't help feel that something was amiss…
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Eighth Chapter
Meanwhile, Elentirmo trotted through the forest, in search of Galion-though, in reality, he knew searching for the seer was, at best, a futile endeavor. To begin with, the mystic did not actually live in the forest-at least, insofar as Elentirmo knew-and if he did, he oft moved, so that there was no telling where he currently dwelled.
Second, Galion was the type that, if he wanted to be found, he would be. If he did not, then he would remain hidden-however much he was sought, or urgently. But-for all the ancient seer's mysterious ways-Elentirmo did have some ideas, at least, of where to find him-and he was determined to search those areas thoroughly, either until the seer revealed himself or Elentirmo found him.
Suddenly getting a idea, Elentirmo wheeled his stallion around and set off in the opposite direction of which he had been originally heading; making for one of the seer's 'haunts-if it could be called such. Though Elentirmo accounted this place to be one of the seer's favorites for having seen or met him there most often, the mystic himself might not account it as such. There was no guarantee he would be there, but it was Elentirmo's best chance-the most likely place to find the seer, if he was in the forest-so Elentirmo had no other alternative but to go there and hope.
Within a few minutes he had reached the place-a grove deep in the forest with an ancient tree at its heart. Elentirmo looked around nervously as he entered; his stallion shying and snorting uneasily. If Galion were to be found anywhere, it would be here but-for whatever reason-this place unsettled him. It was too quiet. No birds ever sang here. No breath of wind stirred the trees. "Galion!" His voice echoed loudly; disturbing the eerie silence and sounding immensely out of place in the dark grove.
His dark stallion cavaled beneath him and he steadied the horse with a pat to his neck. The stallion's ears twitched and flicked to and fro. He side-stepped as Elentirmo called again; his voice louder and slightly desperate now. "Galion! Old one! I must speak with you!" No one answered. Nothing stirred. "Galion!" Still nothing. But Elentirmo could not shake the feeling that he was being watched.
Carefully, he scanned the grove, but saw naught. Little light seemed to penetrate in this part of the forest. "Galion!" His stallion snorted softly, calm now; ears upricked as if listening to-or perhaps for-something. The tall elf paused, then sighed as he realized he was going about it the wrong way. He was silent a moment, then spoke again. "Galion, please. I need you, I need your council."
"Doubtless," a mild voice suddenly said dryly behind him. "Truly; that I had guessed the moment I saw you enter the grove-for why else would you have cause to come here, to seek me out? What I do not know-and suspect will soon learn-is why you are here and what you need my council for so urgently that you saw fit to disturb the rest of the creatures dwelling hereabouts with your shouting."
Amaurea and Elestirne walked in sun-drenched woods not far from the grove. Though Amaurea was still wondering where Elentirmo had gone and why, she decided it was best to occupy herself in some activity or another rather than sit at home consumed with worry for her husband. So, the tall elf-woman decided to go for a walk, and to take Elestirne with her. She needed to gather some fresh herbs anyway and this would be a good opportunity for her to teach the child a bit more of herb lore and woodcraft.
She had already taught her a little-if it could be called that-by teaching the child as soon as she was able to understand what things to stay away from; what plants were poisonous; how to find her way home again if she strayed too far, and other useful knowledge that she would need to know sooner or later. But recently Amaurea had noticed that the child seemed intrigued by what her mother was showing and teaching her.
There was, Amaurea had noticed, a spark of genuine, definite interest in her daughter's eyes as she sat and listened to Amaurea speak about nature and the forest. It was as though the child truly wanted to learn about the forest, its creatures, and the world around her. This possibility warmed the wood-elf's heart. She might look her father's mirror image but it looked as though Elestirne was going to inherit her mother's love of the forest and the wood-elven respect and reverence for nature and its creatures. Amaurea was pleased by this discovery and also, in a way, relieved. She had feared that the high-elven blood would be dominant in Elestirne and that the wood-elven half would be repressed.
Amaurea loved her husband dearly but she had feverently hoped that her daughter would not only be born of both kindreds, as had been prophesied, but also possess in equality the traits and personalities of the two kindreds-for the wood-elf knew that being able to understand and know how both kindreds felt and thought would be a key to Elestirne ruling well and guiding, leading and governing her people and realm with fairness and justice. A leader that cannot understand their people cannot lead them well.
The tall wood-elf smiled a little then, and returned herself to the present with a mental shake. Taking Elestirne's hand, she smiled down at her daughter. "Come my child. We have much I wish to get done."
"Where are we going Ama? What will we be doing?" Elestirne's eyes were bright and shining; full of curiosity
Again Amaurea smiled; unable not to. "I have decided, little one, that you are old enough now for me to begin teaching you some of the ways of the forest and nature; the ways and habits of birds and beasts-some of which the knowledge is known only to wood-elves, children of the forest. Indeed, in some cases, it can only be learned by a wood-elf."
Elestirne's eyes grew very wide and round at that. "You mean secret things? What kind of things Ama?"
"That you shall learn child,"Amaurea laughed softly; smiling at her daughter " only if you are willing to be taught. And you must understand my beloved: that which is meant to be secret must-if taught to you-remain such. Do you understand me Elestirne?" The elf-woman bent down to be more on an even level with her child-who gazed back at her with large, solemn eyes that somehow had not lost that spark of interest. "If you are told something secret, knowledge meant for you alone, you must tell no one else it."
Elestirne thought this over for a long moment. "Not even Father Ama?"
"Not even your father," confirmed Amaurea, though it pained her to say it. "Some of that which you would learn-if you are willing-is knowledge known only to, or meant for, the children of the forests, the wood-elves; not to be told or revealed to those not of our kind."
Again, silence. Then, a puzzled look. "But Ama, how can I learn this? How might I learn knowledge meant for the wood-folk?"
Amaurea waited a moment-until she felt she knew what her daughter asked-then spoke. "You are my daughter dear one-my child, my blood. That is how you earn the right to the knowledge. Because you are my blood child."
"Father's blood too."
"Well yes…"said Amaurea;unsure where this conversation was going and a bit baffled and taken aback by the sudden and unexpected maturity and sense of age she heard in her daughter's voice.
"What does that make me Mother?"
Amaurea blinked, twice. Her daughter's gaze remained as steady as ever. Disconcerted by that bright, unwavering and uncannily penetrating look, she responded slowly; unsure exactly how to answer. "You are my daughter, and you are your father's also. His blood-and mine-mingle in you and make you what you are. You are the child of two kindreds child-mine and your father's. It all comes together in you."
"What all comes together in me Ama?"asked Elestirne, sounding-to the golden-haired elf's relief-like the young child she was once more. "What am I?"
The tall elf-woman lightly stroked the night-dark hair of her daughter; her voice grown rueful and soft-almost sorrowful. "We are all what Fate makes us-no more, no less-and who we choose to become. When the time is right daughter, you will learn what you are and what path is yours to tread." Kneeling, she kissed her daughter's brow, then rose. "But think not of it now! Leave off these deep, solemn thoughts and questions! They ill befit one so young as you. Come dear one!" She tickled Elestirne and her daughter's face became wreathed in smiles; her eyes alight as she doubled over in merriment. Amaurea laughed with her, then made an effort to regain her solemn look. "Come child," she said. "Come with me and let us see what the forest may teach." Eagerly, Elestirne complied; taking her mother's hand and following her without hesitation as the elf-woman moved deeper into the forest.