"Aya?! Aya, where are you??" A child's voice rang out around the park, startling all the frogs and birds to silence. "Where did you go? I didn't think we were playing this game anymore..." The elven child wandered through the park, looking for her friend. Ayalina peeked over the branch she was hiding behind, shaking in fear. A bit if magic still coursed through Ayalina's body, and the image of exploding the magpie with that magic still haunted her mind. "Aya, stop this. I don't want to play anym-" The elven girl's words stops as she climbed the tree Ayalina took refuge in.

"Aya? Are you alright" The elven girl looked suddenly very concerned.

Ayalina shook her head quickly, hiding her face in her hands. "No, not alright. I didn't mean to do it, I swear I didn't...:"

Ayalina's companion looked on Ayalina again, shaking her head. "Well, you have a big mess to clean up. We can hide here until the Quinthellan guards aren't so mad. Here, have a berry..."

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"What do you mean my little girl is causing destruction in the city?" A very old elven man looked upon the visage of the guard captain. "She's a child.. what could she have possibly done??" The old elf narrowed his eyes up at the guard captain, crossing his arms.

"Wanton destruction of wildlife is not permitted here in the city, nor her surroundings. The mayor will not have unruly children running around casting magic unsupervised." The guard captain shot a glance to Ayalina, who's head was bent downwards, her eyes scrutinizing the stitching of her boot. Ayalina's body winced at the sound of the guard captain's words. Ayalina's mother came out of the kitchen, placing an aging hand on Ayalina's shoulder. The old elf shook his head wearily, then walked to the door, opening it. "Leave us, there is nothing more you can do, Captain." The captain narrowed his eyes at the man, then gave an equally cruel gaze to Ayalina. Ignoring Ayalina's mother, the guard left.

"Aya.. magic?" The old man took Ayalina's chin in his fingers, forcing her to look up at him. Nodding almost dumbly, Ayalina's voice came out no more than a soft, defeated whisper. "Yes daddy.. I magicked the magpie. I'm sorry..." She shuddered, then began to cry.

The old elf placed both his hands behind his back, then walked to the display table on the other side of the room. With practiced hands, the old elf unsheathed a scimitar of remarkable quality. With restrained hands, the old elf placed the blade within its protective sheath, and layed it back upon it's fine wooden stand. Turning to look at Ayalina again, the aged eyes took on a very icy cruel sheen, the laugh lines around those hauting eyes fading to tense and disappointed. Without a word, the old elf walked out of the room.

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"She didn't get it from me, not from me. You?" The old elf spoke to his wife with a very disbelieving tone.

"Dear, you know where my talents lie.. yet you ask the question anyway." The wife cast a glance up to the other side of their bedroom. Her eyes lighted on a bastard sword of excellent quality, then she brought her gaze to her husband. "You know very well where my talents lie."

The old elven man and woman glanced at eachother for several long moments. The woman spoke in a soft tone, barely above a whisper. "She is your child, you cannot deny her her talents. You can be angry at the men she will date, wars she will witness, but not at what she is." The woman's tone became more firm as she spoke, her hand moving to rest upon the man's shoulder. Tensing, the man stood up, shaking his head. The woman shook her head too, sighing defeatedly. "She is your daughter.. not you. When will you realize that you cannot control her life as you control yours?"

The man shot a very angry look to his wife, a storm brewing in his eyes before speaking. "No child of mine will walk that path. The way of the blade has been my family's heritage. Yours too. How can you not be angry that your only child will not carry on the same work and ethic that you did?"

The woman shook her head. "I will not argue this. She is my daughter, and I will nurture her path, whatever it is."

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Long into the night they talked and argued. Around four in the morning, both came to a conclusion. When they awoke, they found a small, suberbly written note. The note read simply:

"Thank you, I love you."

The note ended in a stamp of a wolf's head super-imposed on a ball of glittering magic.

Bright blessings, and blessed be.