Estelindis knelt on the outskirts of the village of West Harbour, facing the eastern horizon, waiting for the sun to rise. The elf-girl was a portrait of stillness: no wind ruffled her long, golden hair, no movement disturbed her concentration... Until, an instant before dawn, she smiled and closed her eyes. A faint warmth touched her face, and then her body, as the first light of day rushed over her. She took pleasure in that warmth and then opened her eyes to behold the dawn with another one of her senses. More than most, this day was a new beginning for her. Her childhood had lasted such a long time - it was hard to believe that it was now coming to an end.

A leaf of rich red-gold fell from above, landing on the folds of her loosely-belted robe. She laughed - it was almost as if nature was reinforcing the lesson of the day, for the very autumn that heralded her last Harvest Cup had also caused the leaf to fall. An ending of sorts for that leaf, yes, but also a beginning, as it returned to the earth and gave life to the next year's foliage. And yet, Estelindis knew, there was far more to this reality than her casual appraisal allowed. Cause and effect were bound up in a multitude of ways, far beyond her understanding. Thank you, Morninglord, that there will always be so much that is beyond me, that I may be ever surprised by the wonder of this world, she thought, bringing her morning devotions to a close. She rose from her knees, and started to walk back to the house that her foster-father, Daeghun, had permitted her to share with him.

Not that she often thought of Daeghun as her foster-father. He was as much of a father as she had ever known. It did not truly matter that he was not the man who had given her life: he had cared for her in the tender years when she could not take care of herself, and that was enough. True: he had let her rule her own life as soon as those years were over, and did not ask where she went or what she did as long as she fulfilled her obligations to him (namely, to do her share of the household work, and to practise archery and swordplay with him from time to time). But she had always told herself that this meant that he trusted her... Not that he didn't care. Indeed, when she looked into her mind, she could not remember a time when she hadn't had to tell herself that. It mattered that she believe it - perhaps, too much. From time to time, she wondered if she wasn't fooling herself. He could be so cold and aloof... She shook her head as she reached their home. After today, she would have to put these childish doubts aside. Both she and Daeghun deserved better than to allow these fears to plague her womanhood as they had her childhood. Estelindis stepped inside.

Daeghun glanced up as she closed the door behind her; the dour-looking wood-elf had been gazing at the leaping flames in their fireplace. "Ah, my foster-daughter is up and dressed - even earlier than usual. Is this your way of commemorating that attack, so many years ago? Another hour of prayer, before the Fair begins?" He sighed. "The human need to celebrate remembrance days baffles me." His expression was neutral, and his voice deep and even... Yet, as always, there was an unstated sorrow beneath it all, a sorrow so deep that he could never silence completely, no matter how he seemed to try. Yet she could hear him pull himself together, as he so often did, focusing on day-to-day needs over and above his own loss. "But at least something productive may come of this. The merchant, Galen, is here - he'll want my furs, as usual, and he'll have a Duskwood bow to trade. While I attend to the archery contest, I will need you to deal with the merchant."

"Of course, Father. I will change into something more suitable." She fingered her Lathanderite robe, which she tended to reserve for morning prayer. "Then I'll do as you ask."

Daeghun nodded, but did not leave to set up the contest just yet. His eyes wandered to the fireside, and he remained looking into the flames as she ascended to her room.

When she came down a few minutes later, clad in more casual leather and linen, he was gone.

It was left for Estelindis to run with light-footed steps to the bridge that led from their home. There she found her friends Amie and Bevil, and their joy and excitement ignited in her that quality that she most loved about the humans among whom she lived: a cherishing of the thrill of the moment, a celebration of life in spite of its mortality (or, perhaps, because of it) that she had not learned from Daeghun. Their rush of questions flooded over her, and she responded delightedly. Before long, she took the lead (as she usually did), and set off with her friends in tow to trade with Galen and take part in the contests of the Harvest Fair.

The afternoon was a flurry of merriment and diversion, of tests of skill and strength - and, ultimately, of victory. In a few short hours, Amie, Bevil and Estelindis (along with a local youngster called Kipp, whom they had invited to join their team) had won all four events - a notable achievement, as overall victory only required that they win three. Now the Harvest Cup was theirs. Comparisons to the local legend Cormick, the last winner of all four events, were being bandied about amongst all the attendees at the Fair.

Bevil was talking with his mother Retta and his younger siblings, revelling in the glory of the moment, when Amie took Estelindis aside. She looked at the sun elf penetratingly, and asked: "How long have you been holding back?"

"What do you mean?"

A flash of hurt passed over Amie's face. "Don't play games with me, Lindis."

The look in the elf-girl's eyes softened, and she reached out and touched Amie's shoulder. "I wasn't playing games." A smile curved at the corner of her mouth. "I was asking you to narrow down your question. Some things I've been holding back longer than others. Archery came quickly with Daeghun as my teacher, but learning how to use a club when I prefer blades...? That was tough. And don't talk to me about picking up some of Kipp's tricks. So, which one did you mean?"

Amie grinned. "I was asking about all of them, you goose." Her smile faded a little. "Watching you, I realised you could have won the Cup years before now... Maybe every year. No, don't interrupt - I'm not exaggerating!" She paused. "Well, maybe just a little bit. But, still, we could have been winners long before now - you've always been on our team." For all her youthful innocence, Amie looked almost angry. "How could you hold yourself back like that?"

Estelindis sighed. "Amie, I realise this might sound self-important... But I'm an elf. I've been competing in the Cup for decades. Some years I could not have won, by any stretch of the imagination. Could you imagine me squaring off against Lorne?" They both laughed. "But there were many years when victory would have been possible, sometimes even easy. But I let it pass me by, because I knew I'd have many more chances - unlike the rest of the young people here, who are human." She smiled. "This time was different, though. It was my last chance - and Bevil's, too. I reckoned we could be allowed our day of glory. And, what's more, I think I've enjoyed this one victory more than I could have enjoyed ten victories added up. They would have grown stale quickly, but this is fitting. It feels right." She shook her head ruefully. "I had to learn early in my childhood not to race ahead for some things like my young friends were doing... It was the right pace for them, and so it often felt like the right pace for me – but it almost never was. I mean, my first childhood friends are great-grandparents by now, whereas I've yet to feel the first sparks of romantic love..."

For an instant, Amie paused - but then she nodded. "I suppose it's different for you... I've never quite understood how elves can cope with growing up so slowly." A shy smile. "Maybe I'm just a show-off, but I couldn't stand to let someone who wasn't as good as me win the Cup when I could win instead. I've been working on my magic all year - I can do things now that I could never do before. Tarmas even sounds proud of me, sometimes… Well, when I catch him off-guard. But, believe me, if I could have cast those spells last year, or two years ago, I would have - and I'd be even further ahead now." Much as the elf-girl had gazed at the horizon that morning, Amie's focus began to shift as she looked off into the far distance. "You're a hundred and ten. I'm just fifteen, and already I'm chafing to get into the big, wide world beyond West Harbour. Becoming an adventuring wizard, protecting people with my magic, and learning more spells wherever I go... I guess I've never really understood how you've managed to stick it here so long."

The elf's blonde eyebrows quirked expressively.

Amie laughed. "Not that I mind - you know you're one of my best friends. But I don't always see what's in it for you."

Estelindis looked at her deeply. "Really?"

Amie looked back. "Really."

"Well... In some ways, I've been kept in West Harbour by factors outside of my control. Father, for a start. He takes his custody of me very seriously."

Amie gaped at her. "What are you talking about? Daeghun everything seriously but that. I mean, he lets you go wherever you want."

The sun elf smiled. "Not quite." She hesitated for a moment, and then made a decision. "Let me tell you a story, Amie. Once, years before Brother Merring came..." She paused for thought. "Before Lorne and Bevil were born..." She stopped for another moment, and finally recalled: "It was in my seventy-eighth year. Anyway, one day I went exploring north of the Mere and got into trouble. I'd say half a day would be required to describe the exact nature of the difficulties I got into, one problem heaped on top of another in an almost comical fashion… Suffice it to say, I ended up stuck on the lone ledge of an otherwise sheer cliffside, my arrows spent, and a pack of hungry wolves circling thirty feet below."

Amie's eyes widened. "Why didn't you tell me about this before?"

"I've never told anyone about this - maybe the time wasn't right before." A smile tugged at her mouth. "Besides, you and Bevil and I make enough stories of our own, Amie."

The human girl blushed, thinking of one of her own tales that had been recalled earlier during the Cup. "True enough."

"Anyway, to continue with this tale... I spent the better part of two days on that ledge. I hoped that the wolves would give up before thirst forced me to take desperate measures, but they were very patient. I was beginning to wonder if I hadn't had my last adventure... Then, on the morning of my third day away from home, I heard the thrum of a bowstring - before I could blink, three of the wolves had fallen with arrows in their throats. It was Daeghun. He dispatched the rest of the wolves - the ones that didn't run away, in any case - and helped me to get down from the ledge."

"Was he angry?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. The truth is, I don't know. My father prefers cold to heat; whatever he might have been feeling at the time was hidden behind a wall of ice. His first words once he'd rescued me were orders to help him skin the dead wolves. After that, he didn't speak to me until we got home... where he gave me the thrashing of my life. The only reason he'd waited until we got back was that I wouldn't have been able to keep up with him on the return journey if he'd punished me there and then."

Amie winced, but said nothing.

"I still remember what he said to me between the blows," Estelindis murmured. "'I have given you freedom to roam where you will, foster-daughter, not freedom to imperil your life foolishly. I thought you understood the difference - now I see you must be taught.' Between my tears, I tried to explain that what had happened was not my fault, but he cut me off, saying: 'The wolves did not care how you got into that situation. They simply took advantage of it. Nature can be charmed, but it cannot be reasoned with, and it casts aside excuses as the signs of weakness that they truly are. Then it tears your skin with powerful claws, and rends your flesh with teeth like daggers. It certainly pays no heed to your cries.' Then he fell silent, the devoted himself fully to the task at hand. It seemed like he spent an aeon beating me... When he finished, at last, he grasped my face to make sure I met his eyes. Then he said in a hard voice: 'If this should happen again, I swear I will do the same as I have now. I will search for you. I will find you. If you are still alive, then I will put an end to whatever threatens you, or die in the attempt.' My expression must have given him pause, because he then said, in his slow and measured way: 'It is unlikely that anything in these lands would best me, but it is not impossible; you would do well to remember that. However, leaving that risk aside, we will return home once I have rescued you. Then I will make you wish you had never been born. Understand, then, foster-daughter: you will remain free to go where you wish, but misusing that freedom will have unpleasant consequences.' I was left with that promise, and my pain, and neither failed to teach the lesson Daeghun intended."

Amie frowned. "Your father..."

Estelindis shrugged. "He was right, Amie."

"No, he wasn't. You respect his word because he's your foster-father, but that doesn't make him right." Amie's voice carried a level of confidence and conviction that was rare for her. "Did he go exploring with you to show you the safe places and the unsafe ones? Did he teach you how to befriend animals? No. He just went for the simplest, harshest lesson that allowed him to keep living the way he wanted: working by himself, training by himself, scouting - no prizes for guessing - by himself, being unhappy, and ignoring you."

As she listened to Amie's words, Estelindis felt something squeeze in her chest. She stared at her friend for a moment, before bittersweet sorrow, pulling at her heart, caused her shoulders to slump a little and her gaze to fall to the ground. For a long moment, she looked at the stony soil beneath her feet, and at the grass struggling to grow in it.

The silence stretched, until Amie finally broke it. "Lindis..." She sounded just a little contrite.

The elf-girl took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It's fine." She raised her eyes and met her friend's gaze. "I don't know if I agree with you, Amie. Not completely, anyway. I mean, Daeghun has taught me a thing or two about survival. Not those things you mentioned, I know, but his path isn't mine - I don't want to sacrifice my studies as a priestess in order to learn everything he has to teach. Maybe he understands that, and lets me live my own life rather than trying to shape it according to his wishes at every step. As for his lesson: I can see you don't like it, but it got through to me. And it wasn't as harsh as it could have been - he used magic to heal me the next day. Said he didn't want my first mistake to leave scars on my skin, but he made no promises about second or third mistakes... So I was more careful after that. Learned to respect the power of the land, to judge acceptable risks from their opposites." A pause. "But perhaps you're right - in part if not wholly. Still," she said, firming her voice, "I've survived this upbringing, irrespective of my father's feelings, and now I needn't darken his door too much longer. If it will be a relief for him when I go, so be it. But..." and here something that neither girl could name crept into her voice, "even if that is the case, I will still admire him. Not in spite of his feelings, but because of them. At an instinctive level, Amie, I've always felt that doing something that is right, even when one doesn't enjoy it… even when all one's feelings go against it, and a sense of obligation or duty is the only thing that keeps one doing it… Well, that is noble. So, if what my father wanted was to live utterly by himself, and he sacrificed that even a little because he thought that raising me was the right thing to do, then he has my respect and my thanks."

"Have you ever stopped to wonder if it's right for him to want that kind of solitary life?"

"I don't think right and wrong come into it, Amie. His heart is broken, and telling him that it should be fixed won't effect an immediate repair. Elven feelings are slower to change than human ones... I just try to shine a little of Lathander's light into the shadows of his sorrow when I can. He did it for me on that day I just told you about, though I don't think he meant to. I'll never forget how, even as he warned me against future mistakes, he promised he would save me first - that he would die rather than abandon me to any danger. I was crying as much from the fear that he hated me as from the pain of the punishment - and then, in the middle of it all, he made the closest thing to an admission of caring that I've ever gotten from him." She looked a little uncomfortable. "Yes, I know it's not much - but it matters to me. And so, in spite of everything, one of my reasons for staying..."

"...is Daeghun," Amie finished.

"Yes. If he's made it abundantly clear that he considers me a burden, he's also shown me that I'm his burden rather than anyone else's - at least until my coming of age. I owed it to him... as well as to myself... not to go off on hairbrained adventures-"

"Owed."

The elf-girl nodded. "That time is coming to an end." A slow smile curved the corners of her lips. "Hairbrained adventures all the way, now."

Amie began to smile too. "I can hardly wait. Have you decided when you're going to leave?"

"Brother Merring suggested springtime. He says it's auspicious, and... Well, he's right. But I'm not sure. You see, that's where I come up against all the other reasons I have for staying - all of which are less torturous and ambiguous than the Daeghun reason, thankfully. One might almost say," she said softly, "that they weren't torturous or ambiguous at all."

"Really? Like what?"

Estelindis shook her head in fond wonder. "Try looking in a mirror some time; you'll find part of your answer there."