Warcraft Gift to Remember

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Valéria stared with wide-eyed excitement at the assortment of shiny, sparkling things on the smooth, polished stone surface of one of the work tables in the large study. There were things that _glowed_ things that _glittered_ things that were _so_ pretty she could barely stop herself from reaching out and touching them! But she _couldn't_ touch them, no, no, no. That would get her in trouble, and she _really_ didn't want to get in trouble and be left out of what the arcanist was planning.

"It looks like everything's here," murmured Aranya, surveying the materials that were laid out on the table. She lightly ran her fingertips over some bottles of shimmering dust, some pieces of parchment, a small assortment of runed objects, and even a few flowers and bits of cloth. She turned to her right to look down at the little elf-girl with a smile. "Are you ready?"

Valéria nodded enthusiastically, beaming.

Aranya picked up a single firebloom from where it lay on the table, handing it carefully to the eager child, who marveled at the flower's vibrant colors while the arcanist poured some sparkling dust from one of the corked bottles into her hand, then with the other hand gathered up some crystalline shards of differing colors, radiating different kinds of lights. The woman sat down on an ornate work stool that had been pulled up beside the table, bringing herself closer to the child's level. A single look from the arcanist beckoned the little girl forward, hands out, holding the flower.

Aranya held her open hands just underneath Valéria's. "Just like I showed you," she said gently. "Focus, think of what you want, what needs to happen."

A look of absolute concentration came over the little blonde girl, bright fel-touched eyes fixated on the flower in her hands and the glimmering things in the hands of the dark-haired mage.

"Now reach out with your senses."

The dust and shards began to shine and glow more brightly and steadily... as if waking up, somehow.

"Remember, I'm right here with you," Aranya reminded her very young companion. "Do you sense me, too?" After a second, Valéria nodded, her look of concentration never breaking. "Good."

Now Aranya herself looked down at their hands. "Once you have a sense of what you're reaching for, and what you want it to do, keep your grasp on it," she said.

Some of the dust particles lifted into the air a tiny bit, as if responding to an unseen charge in the atmosphere. "Now, move it," Aranya encouraged, "like the way you would move water with your hands, but with your focus."

The dust particles and crystal shards all began to rise, and move in a slow, languid swirl that gradually gathered momentum around the joined hands of the mage and the girl-child.

"Command it, _own_ it, make it yours."

Around and around the glittering dust flew, faster and faster by the second, over and under the two elves' hands. The shards rose into a ring-like pattern that spun around the firebloom - which had also become lifted into the air, hovering just above Valéria's little hands. Faster and faster, brighter and brighter, and then - all of sudden - the dust and the flower ignited!

For the briefest instant, Valéria's focus broke with a startled fright, almost jumping out of her skin, as ribbons of flame encircled the hands of the arcanist and the girl. She hadn't expected that the mage would do _that_ for the enchantment. But Aranya held Valéria's hands steady within her reassuring grasp, kept her in place, willed her to stay as she was with gentle nudging that did not come from corporeal touch, and it was all that the child needed to regain herself.

The shards continued to grow brighter, matching the flames, closing in on the heart of what the two elves were doing. There was a blazing flash, and then all was still and quiet.

Aranya's hands enclosed Valéria's, in whose grasp lay the end result of their plans. She looked up, smiling warmly, burning green eyes atwinkle, to meet the little girl's gaze, who looked like she might burst at any moment with anticipation.

Aranya opened her hands, gently hooking her thumbs over Valéria's so that she would unfold hers as well.

Valéria lit up like the Sunwell upon seeing the beautiful thing that was in her hands. It was a flawless, perfectly transparent crystal sphere - about the size of a large jewel, easily fitting into the palm of one's hand, but small enough to hide in one's pocket. At its center was purest flame, but it was in the shape of a flower, with elegantly curved petals that tapered to a point at the edges.

"Do you like it?" Aranya asked, smiling broadly.

The answer that came was an immediate and emphatic _yes._

"Do you think he'll like it?" asked the arcanist.

Valéria nodded, grinning from ear to pointy ear, "Yes!"

"Good," said Aranya. She gently took the trinket from Valéria's grasp, turned in her seat to face the work table, and picked up a square of embersilk cloth. A sudden wicked glint appeared in her eye. "But if he doesn't, he can always toss it into the ocean for some naga witch to find and appreciate," she said mischievously, as she wrapped the gift up in the embersilk and set it into a small black box on the table.

_"No!"_ Valéria protested, frowning ferociously with displeasure at the very idea.

Aranya grinned, running a hand over the little girl's soft blonde hair as she replied placatingly, "I jest."

Mollified, Valéria asked, "When are we giving it to him?"

"Tonight," answered Aranya. "Jediga will come to take you to the Midsummer festivities, and I'll go to drop off our gift for him personally on his doorstep." She set the box over an embersilk ribbon and began wrapping it up into a bow. _"Hopefully_ no one accosts me in the process, since I have to retrieve some other things before I meet up with you and Jediga, but I doubt that anyone will. After all," she turned to look over her shoulder at her young companion with a sly smile, "what is anyone going to think if they happen to see some ordinary black cat carrying something between its teeth?"

The question was entirely rhetorical, implying exactly how she planned to attempt to go unnoticed. It was common enough for a mage to change someone _else_ into a lesser creature, disoriented and ruled by blind instinct. It took more skill and experience to change _oneself_ into such an animal and not have their conscious will be dominated by its nature. Aranya only personally knew of one other who could do this. "Not much," she said in answer to her own question. "Unless they see it change into a woman and disappear, of course." With that, she finished tying off the ribbon around the box. "Only one thing left now," she murmured, "Valéria, would you hand me the quill from over there, please?"

Valéria went over to a nearby desk and fetched a writing quill resting in a fine glass ink bottle. Aranya carefully took the quill out of the bottle, blew very softly and lightly over the plume, and let it go.

The quill flew up and away on the light gust of her breath, and then spiraled into a loop, coming to rest perfectly upright on a small slip of parchment, just the right size to fit underneath the box's ribbon. A gesture and a whispered word from the arcanist commanded the quill to take the dictation of her thoughts, and as it moved, her intended message was scrawled in simple script, traceable to no one's handwriting in particular.

_We wanted you to have this. Don't ever lose sight of yourself, and don't ever believe that you are easily forgotten. Happy Birthday._


End file.

Warcraft, Fantasy, Friendship