A/N: I'd like to re-introduce you to a character we all know and love… Enjoy!
End of chapter 2: Alanna shook her head in exasperation, knowing there was nearly no way anyone could sway the Wildmage and Numair about their daughter. Don't worry that small voice said again nothing will change that girl's destiny.
A Roadblock Called Father
Two weeks later, a tall man sat at a desk in his study, deep in thought. He had a very difficult decision to make: one that would change the fate of someone very precious to him. Far away, the door to the study opened, and another figure approached the desk.
Numair Salmalin turned to look at his oldest child and only daughter. Sarralyn stood completely, painfully straight, her hands clasped behind her back, her face hidden behind an emotionless mask, her stormy eyes burning. Something wasn't right. The greatest mage in Tortall sighed and gestured for his daughter to sit across from him.
"I'd rather stand, thank you, father" Numair shivered at the sound of the ice in his child's voice. She knew what this was about.
"Sarralyn" Numair's voice was soft and cautious as he spoke "Alanna told me about what happened that night" the tall man folded his hands silently on his desk, looking his daughter in the eye. "Please try and understand me, Sarralyn. You are not meant to be a knight. You have a role in this world, and that of a knight is not it."
"You know that I can, father, you know that. You know I'm strong enough, and you know in your heart that this is what I am supposed to do. Why are you trying to hold me back from what I'm destined to become?" Numair's heart gave a tug as he watched his daughter's face fall. He knew that she was right. If she were anyone else…
The mage sighed and rubbed his temples. He could feel a headache coming on. "Sarralyn," he said, his voice exhausted, "why do you want to be a knight?"
"Because I know I'm so much more than what everyone expects me to be," she said, her voice coldly emotional. "Because I know that having wild magic and the gift isn't all there is to me. Because I know I can be so much more and I want to be out there doing something, not sitting here being useless!"
Numair watched as his daughter lost what control she had over herself through the course of her outburst, her cheeks red with anger, eyes flaming, hands balling into fists at her sides. She could do it, a tiny voice inside of the mage whispered. She could be something more. She could show them all exactly what it means to fulfill a destiny. But this voice was a very small one. "Sarralyn, this coming generation isn't ready for you. Roald is too much like his grandfather. People will want things to be consistent once he takes the throne, and you will be too much for them."
"But wild magic and the Gift are tools! I cannot wield a weapon if I don't know how and I can't use them the way I like without a shield" Sarralyn cried in indignation. "What's so overwhelming about it when they all make sense?!"
"'To choose one path is to forsake all others.'" Numair quoted bitterly "Someday, it's going to be necessary to define yourself as something. You can't be a warrior, a mage, and a wildmage."
"But I am all those things already, father. I speak to the People, I heal two-leggers, and I defend what is right. You said I could do anything," Sarralyn whispered, fighting against the hot tears begging to roll down her cheeks. The sight made her father's heart freeze over. "You said I would show them that I could be everything."
"I didn't mean that you could have it all! You have to be something! You-" Numair stopped suddenly, realizing what he had just said. In front of him, Sarralyn had gone ghostly pale.
For a moment, Numair could almost feel the weight of his daughter's anguish, like a blanket of lead a thousand kilograms heavy, as coppery-black magic pulsed through the air. It lasted but a second. He watched as his daughter folded into herself, extinguishing that light that had shined so bright in her soul.
"Good night father" the voice that had been so emotional just a minute before was now dead, lost like the looks on the now-expressionless face. The man didn't see the fire burning twice as fierce in his child's eyes as she bowed slightly. He didn't think of the stubbornness that had not vanished from her chin when she turned away from him and he didn't know the treachery that roared in her heart as she left. Her last thought before the door closed behind her was: I don't care what you say. I'll save the world without your help.
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What could young Sarralyn be thinking of doing??? Hmmm...