"Another one, please!" the soft voice of the child asked excitedly. Her eyes, wide like glistening sapphires looked past the emerald head of the proud hawkstrider in order to find the snowy one of the man leading it. He cracked a wide smile, sparing a short glance at the young passenger, before turning back to the road.
"Alright." he nodded, lifting his chin. "Let's see... Ah! Yes." The man snapped his fingers once. "What is the most important for a merchant? A travelling one, mind you. We are interested in what we are."
The young girl tilted her head to the side, thinking. She revealed the leather saddle onto which she had been holding in order to tap her chin.
The afternoon was, as expected from the land of eternal summer, delightfully pleasant. Radiant rays of light slipped past the golden canopies of Eversong, highlighted by the dancing dust and pollen rising from the flora. A warm breeze shook the leaves rather gently, composing nature's sweet melody. On it were added the chirping of birds, the gurgling of Elrendar river. It was not too close, yet the sound could be detected in the absence of crowds. The forest was peaceful.
In spite of the day's beauty, the road was not occupied. Perhaps the elves had already reached fields of green by now in order to feast and enjoy the sunlight, or perhaps they had been too used to such wonderful warm afternoons during their long lives in order to notice this one. Admittedly, the long road spiraling through the forest was almost empty, though it did burst with life earlier in the day and closer to the city of Silvermoon. For several miles towards the south though, one would be met with silence.
Still, the father and daughter could be found crossing the woods, as if taking advantage of the blessed day. They were a group of three if one were to count the animal on which the girl was riding. Its deep, green colour was indeed captivating, yet its beauty stopped there; its feathers were disportionate and some missing, though a manner of arrogance still clung on the male hawkstrider. Aside the young elf on its back, it was also burdened with with heavy, brown bags at its sides. The clutter of objects of several kinds could be heard from within after every step the animal took, yet metal was the most prominent. Parts of objects peered out of the lid: copper rods, or the end of a fabric, all squeezed within for the sake of space.
The man leading the charge was blessed with a tall and lean form with the muscle earned through the journeying and lifting of a constantly travelling merchant. His attire agreed to that; leathers and simple, comfortable clothes in plain colours dressed him. From his back hung a dark green cloak, very lightly worn. In spite of his name and the white of his long hair, Riordan Ashfury had nothing of rage to show about his person. His stride was confident, even if not overly so and a wide smile adorned his lips. Nor could one name him a ghost for the palour of his mane. If it had once extended to his skin, journeys had now granted him a slight, healthy tan that never received a chance to fade.
Yet for his daughter, the same could not be said. The girl was just a decade old, if not a year or two more, and was by no means a strong child. A blue cloak, in the very colour of her eyes, veiled her dress, as white as the rest of her. The skin on her cheekbones was lightly bruised and yellow, a sign of former disease from which recovery was marked not long ago. But as if contradiction ran in the blood of the family, her curiosity trumped the frail state of her body, making her look lively enough. She did not smile, but excitement was evident upon her as she considered Riordan's question.
"Is it his wares?" she asked eventually, leaning just a little forward over the hawkstrider's saddle.
"Hmm." The merchant seemed to consider the younger elf's response for a moment, before lifting his chin in a jovial manner. "Smart and audacious, I will give you that." he chuckled and looked back at her. The poor thing stared with wide eyes, clearly never having harboured the intention of the latter. "But no." He reached for the dark green fabric hanging around his shoulders, pulling its lower half forward. "It is his cloak."
Celysiel looked at him quizzically. He smiled and pulled the hood over his head.
"It is protection from the rain and the cold... Or the annoying sunlight." he added softly, knowing the weakness of her eyes. "A bed against cold stone and a blanket when you have none. And if you have to deal with the nagging of your mother, a mighty shield against dirt."
"I do not think mum would like me sullying my cloak." Hers appeared new and hardly used, gently sliding from the side of the hawkstrider. "Mum says a fair maiden must always remain clean and poised."
A chuckle escaped Riordan's lips. "I would dare not contest your mother's wisdom on that." he expressed, popping the hood back down. "She has raised quite the princess after all."
The young girl tilted her head to the side. "That is not true." she objected. "I can be no princess, for she is neither queen, nor are you king."
"It is just an affectionate title, Celysiel."
"But mum says we should use titles properly." she insisted. "That those who hold them do not tolerate their false use. That we should remember our place."
A sigh escaped her father's lips. "No noble is here to listen, what they do not know cannot hurt-"
"But mum says" the girl interrupted him. "that we should speak falsely behind the backs of others."
"I swear, say what your mother says one more time-"
"Mum says that I should never forget her word."
The merchant raised his free hand on the air theatrically, the other one always holding onto the reins. "And what of the things dad says?"
She pondered on the matter for a moment. Her small hand reached on her back, taking hold of the azure hood to poorly place it over her head. "Dad says a merchant's most important belonging is his cloak."
Riordan could not help but grin. "You cheeky little-"
"Mum also says" his daughter continued innocently, producing a small smile of her own. "that we should use more refined-"
"By the Sun, fine!" he exclaimed, though his smirk remained. "Your mother's wisdom knows no bounds."
"It does not." Celysiel declared proudly with a nod. Silence did not last long. "Is it known how long she will be in Dalaran with Miss Everbrook?"
The man offered a shrug of his shoulders. "I would give it a few weeks." he theorized, his expression fading into a frown of thought. "The human city is rather large, finding Arcanist Duskward may prove challenging." His free hand reached for Koranir's beak, offering a swift pat. The hawkstrider seemed somewhat irritated. "Then of course she would need to secure an audition to present our case and several more if we are fortunate in order to convince him."
The young girl nodded; the gesture alone dropped the hood from her alabaster locks. "What if he does not want to teach me?"
A shrug was the response she received. Ever relaxed, the girl's father kept leading the hawkstrider beneath the canopies. "He is hoping to return to the High Home in order to retire for a few years." he mumbled, cocking his head to the side in order to scratch the area behind his ear. "And we aim to make an offer he cannot refuse for a very small part of his knowledge."
"But can we pay him?" Celysiel insisted, leaning forward a little. She only straightened her back when Riordan shot her a wary glance, though at that moment it quite likely had little to do with her stance.
"Have you been reading the ledgers again?" he asked with a frown.
His daughter hesitated for a moment. Wide eyes like glistening sapphires looked at him with hesitation, before an attempt was made. "Dad says that a good merchant-"
"Oh no, this is not going to work." he warned her, though his expression remained soft. It was very unlikely that irritation would find its way at Riordan Ashfury in any form, let alone when it concerned his offspring. His smile however had vanished. "You know the rules. These things are for grown-ups. You are too young to trouble your mind with these matters."
"I was not trying to!" Even in her defence, she sounded apologetic. "There is no other book in the house to practice my arithmetics."
"That does not mean you can touch these things, especially not without permission." Even when he was meant to be stern, his voice possessed a gentle element. A sigh escaped his lips as he shook his head. "The ledgers are not to be studied by someone of your age. Is that clear?"
"Yes, but-"
"We can afford him." he cut her off, answering her question. "His services will not be needed for quite a few years still. You are too young to learn the ways of the arcane in such way just yet."
The child wrinkled her nose, averting her gaze to Koranir's head. "It is only enchantment."
"A field far more useful and complex than most realise." Riordan hummed in thought, turning to look behind his shoulder again. "It does not excite you, does it?"
Celysiel shook her head. It seemed quite large in contrast to her body given how her voluminous locks flailed around, slightly unkempt after hours of journeying.
"How come? I thought learning about the arcane would fascinate you."
"It is not that." she mumbled. "It would just mean nothing would really change. I would keep staying inside."
He cocked a brow. "What is wrong with that?" he asked. "If you put a lot of work into your craft, you will be famous. Elves from all across the Kingdom will visit the remarkable Celysiel Ashfury for her enchantments. Nobles will wish their armour to have passed from your hands before it is worn. The Spire will want to work closely with you. Does that not sound ni-... It does not?" her father asked in surprise upon seeing her shake her head again.
"Nothing would change." the youth mumbled, emitting an exasperated sigh. "I would be inside and the others would not. Like now. We are visiting a village by the sea and I can't-... I cannot swim."
"You would not want to swim anyway, my sparrow." Riordan uttered kindly. "It is nothing special, a skill not needed."
She squinted at him. "Do you know how to swim?"
Riordan waved his hand dismissively. "That is different. How do you think I impressed your mother?" He chuckled under the curious eyes of his daughter, the naive creature so easy to deceive. "Listen here, sparrow. Do not dare find someone who cannot swim. Riches, beauty, what does it matter if the man cannot float?"
"I do not-"
"Ah, but I have spoken." He closed his eyes, nodding wisely. "It can be one of those cases of 'dad says'."
Celysiel fell silent, eyes locked on the hawkstrider's emerald feathers. That the cloud of the previous topic was still hanging above her head her father could clearly see. For a moment, the reins changed hands, so the one holding them formerly could reach for that hanging at the side of his offspring.
"Look, Celysiel." he tried. "Your mother and I want what is best for you and presently... You might grow and disease may cling on you no more." he theorized. "It is a possibility and if it happens, we will be happy to see you become anything you want, travel as much as you like, do all that you dream of."
He smiled and she managed to smile back at him. Both of his arms carefully embraced her as they paused on the road. Riordan took his child in his embrace, supporting her weight with great ease. "But sometimes, we cannot have all we wish for and desire. What we can do in these cases is make the best of the situation."
She looked up at him in silence. Riordan planted a kiss on those strands, as white as his. Nevermind that her face was that of her mother's. Her pale colours were his legacy and that of her enclosure.
"There is a chance that your body will never become your stronger asset. That it will remain as frail as that of a sparrow. But your mind, my little one? Sharpen it enough and it will be your greatest weapon. Protect it, nurture it through the long years of your life and the day that you will no longer be overlooked will come."
Eventually, a soft nod graced her head. Celysiel's small hands held onto her father's clothes tightly. "Did you know" she hesitantly asked "that the Guardian is said to be the best diviner to ever exist? They say his sight can reach the farthest reaches of Azeroth because of his power."
Riordan squeezed her in a tight hug. "Alright then, my future little diviner." he laughed. "But you are neither that, nor an enchanter for now. In fact, do you know what you are?"
She shook her head in response.
"Why, you are my brilliant assistant of course!" He lifted her, setting her back on Koranir's saddle. "The little sweet sparrow that will help dad sell everything we have to those ladies and maidens of the Windrunner Village."
Celysiel could not help but smile. "And what about mum?"
"Pfft." Riordan waved his hand dismissively again. "Let mum and Miss Everbrook look for some old arcanist in Dalaran. Who needs them? And... Actually, tell you what." He approached the hawkstrider in a conniving manner, casting two glances right and left before his gaze returned to his daughter. "If your health does not deteriorate... Perhaps I could convince mum to let me take you to my next journey as well. What do you think?"
At that moment, the little girl all but hugged him. She clapped her small hands enthusiastically, blue eyes sparkling with joy. "You would do that?"
"Maybe I have been convinced to." Riordan replied, grinning at her. "Miss Ashfury, you will make a very fine merchant one day."
Father and daughter continued their journey under the caress of the amber sunlight, embraced by the happiness of the bright day. Never did the girl confess the growing chill she felt, dismissed by her cloak and the excuse that the reason she was wearing it was its colour.
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