The corax. A great race, with great powers. Goroth had studied them for millennia. The creatures appeared human, or similar at least, with the exception of the great black wings and ability to manipulate the shadows and even vanish into the darkness. There was one now that had drawn his attention.

The chief's little daughter. He knew her mother had died birthing her, knew her father was often busy with affairs of the clan. And the young girl was often left to her own devices. He'd watched her grow, alone, and untended, like the wild rose that grew faster than it could control itself and oft became a tangled mess. He had approached her, soothingly, feigning innocent intent. Days melted to weeks and months and he endeared himself to her. One particularly dreary morning he had come to her yet again, finding her sitting alone in the woods on a large rock.

"Ah my dear little Arya, why so gloomy' The day is yet young and yet you look so sad." She looked up, amethyst eyes ever-bright. "None of the other children want to play with me. They are afraid I will tell my father about the games they play on the practice cliffs." Goroth gave her a soft smile. "And what games do they play, little songbird" What games would they fear your father finding out?" She looked angry. "They won't even tell me. They call me tattle feathers because I told my father when Teric and Frenra went to the river and Teric fell in. And he was too young to be there. So now they do not want to play with me. But If I hadn't told Teric would have drowned! It's not fair!" He shushed her soothingly. "There, there my sweet songbird, I know it's not fair. But tell me, why would you want to play with such silly and stupid children who cannot thank you for saving them' You are much better than they are. I am sure they are just jealous that they did not save the boy, first."

She looked up at him thoughtfully. "Do you really think so?" "Ah my songbird, I know so. Why don't you come with me to my house" We can play as many games as you like as long as you wish. We will have more fun than those silly children, and they shall have none of it. You will never have to share. How does that sound?" She perked up. "Yes, Lets go play games at your house, I'm tired of the other children being mean to me." He took her by the hand, absconding with her with nary a sound to alert the village sentinels. After all, she thought she was going with a friend. The girl had been but the tender age of five. She'd been frightened, confused and bewildered. This man who had seemed so kind suddenly became her worst nightmare. Days slid into weeks that melted into months of grueling training. She did her best, but was often beaten by her new "Master". She acquired many scars and after many months, was deemed ready to bear his brand. Several servants, grim faced and tight lipped held her down as she cried and screamed, begging them to stop?but they did not.

She was marked, her left thigh, with a tattoo of a bat and a blood drop beneath, and branded with an iron brand of a wolf's head. She spent many days recovering from her ordeal, traumatized and scarred. She withdrew, and seldom spoke. Within the year Goroth had adopted a son, Rorin, and she'd scarcely met him but once or twice. She had come across him one early morning during her morning chores. He'd had been in the stables petting Goroth's prize stallion, Estha.

She gasped softly as she felt the cool air on her bare flesh, but she trusted him and did not protest, rather gently pressed closer to him. Next he kissed down her throat, slowly kissing and tracing the tip of his tongue down her chest to move to circle her nipple with his tongue before lightly sucking it into his mouth to gently trace his teeth across it. She lifted her hands, running her fingers tentatively through his hair, her head tilted back with pleasure at the new sensations he was awakening in her.

He then began kissing across her chest to treat the other nipple as teasingly as the first while his fingertips moved to run along the undersides of her breasts. He knelt before her, his breath hot across her belly as he kissed down to her waist and slid his hands into his sleeves shrugging his robes off. He looked up to her and saw her eyes closed her head tilted as she focused on his every ministration. She was hardly breathing, her heart in her throat, intent on every light brush of his lips, his knowledgeable fingers. Each touch, every caress she was acutely aware of, she shivered a tiny bit, not knowing what to expect yet somehow knowing it would be pleasant. "Oh, Lite.." Not knowing what it was she desired, but without a shadow of a doubt she knew she wanted him to keep on. He ran his fingertips along her sides tickling her ever so lightly raising goose bumps along her soft flesh.

"Art certain Thou wish this?" he asked softly pressing his cheek against her lower belly. Her answer was a soft sigh as she stroked his hair. She nodded silently. He slid his face downward kissing lightly to nuzzle between her upper thighs seeking to part her legs his hands moved around her helping support her as he felt her body tremble. His lips brushed across her womanhood lightly he pressed his face against her running his tongue along her slowly gently urging her arousal higher. He could feel her temperature rise against his mouth as he moved it along against and around her. She clutched at his head, her knees feeling suddenly weak. He could feel her body shaking and knew she was close to collapse ******





. She'd been irrevocably bonded to this man, and neither of them knew it. She joined him in his bed, and he had made her a woman. But without knowledge of her history, her kind, how could she know she'd never be able to love another after being bedded" Goroth entered the inn, dusky eyes glittering as he sighted his quarry. Arya, she was sitting with her new bosom companion, the man she called Lite. He approached her quietly until he came to stand beside her.

"My little songbird, you have flown far from home. This has gone on long enough. Come with me quietly and I shall go easy on you." At this point Lite turned to face him. "She is not for you, Deadman. She is her own woman, no longer yours." Goroth scoffed, and dismissed the man as insignificant. "Stay out of this, fool. How would you know what she is" She is and always has been mine." He grabbed Arya's arm, and roughly hauled her to her feet. Instead of the whimpering slave girl she'd been, her demeanor was now possessed of a new confidence. "Let go of me!" She jerked her arm back. "I am not your songbird, now I'm free."

Goroth laughed, the sound blood curdling. "Free" Oh my sweet, you shall never be free of me. I will haunt your steps forever, you are mine." Lite started to rise in ire, but Arya acted first. Her eyes took on a strange glow and she spread her wings. The shadows throughout the entire inn converged and wrapped Goroth in a cocoon, lifting him from the floor. "What magic is this?" He demanded. "Release me at once! Arya, I swear I shall make you suffer as you never have if you do not release me this instant!" There was a note of fear in his voice however, as he was unable to free himself from his bonds. Arya leaned forward, her lips parting as though she might kiss him, but she stopped mere inches from his face. Her expression was murderous, but there was no hint of recognition of anything in her eyes, she was driven by blind rage.

Red, everything was tinted red, though a fog she felt the blood pumping in her veins, heard her own heart beating like thunder, felt her breath coming fast and hard. And incredible hatred. Hatred for all things living and kind, and good. The burning desire to inflict this wrath on any and all she could. It seemed as though even as she felt these things, she was separated from herself watching herself in horror. She screamed to stop, cried out mutely, but she ignored herself.

This new hunger, this rage would not be denied. She watched helplessly through her own eyes, which she found odd, because she was not seeing shadow, nor auras, but like she had before she had gone blind. She was trapped within herself, raging against this rage. This nightmare she could not wake from. She found herself at a farmhouse, peering in through the window, as two little girls played under the watchful eye of their mother. She watched from her hiding place as they ate dinner. She waited while they were bathed, and when they had been put abed, and were slumbering gently, she made her move.

She slipped into the room, and without waking the one, nor disturbing the other, she took the eldest of the two in her arms and slipped away into the night. The morning would find the girl's parents distraught and searching frantically for her. She would never be found...Arya felt sick, as she watched the scene play out from within her mental prison. Saw the look of terror, heard the girl scream...felt the warm flesh in her mouth and tasted hot blood. The last thing before the darkness closed in was familiar laughter...Goroth's laughter.

She screamed, trying to wake and the world finally cleared, her head was throbbing and she vomited violently. She was awake. so why did she still taste blood" In horror she realized what she had done, and found with one hand the lifeless body of an innocent child. She had done this...she was now a murderer, a monster. She turned away sickened heaving until she thought her ribs would collapse, then gathering the girl's corpse in her lap she wept over her, great wracking sobs. How could this have happened" She could never undo this evil she had wrought...and she felt as though a piece of her had died with the dead girl she now cradled in her arms.

She did her best to dig the girl a shallow grave, and had gently laid her in it, plucking flowers and placing them over the freshly turned earth before she fled the scene. That night she had sought Lite, but had feared to enter the inn. She cried out a strangled sound of torment. Lite had recognized the voice, but the sound was distressed and he rose from his customary seat at the hearth to go outside and investigate. There he found her, bedraggled, dirty, and smelling of blood and death, though she bore no wounds. "Milady Arya, what hast happened to thee?" He held her, heedless of her filth. Arya slumped against him, sobbing hysterically. "I've done something terrible.."

Shuddering, her voice hoarse. His voice was gentle. "Come, let us to the glen that we might clean thee and speak more privately." She nodded mutely, allowing herself to be lifted and guided, numbly. When finally they arrived, he helped her to settle not far from the water's edge. "Now, please tell thy servant what hast transpired, Arya." She still clung to him. "I...I killed a little girl?" Sobbing. "I can still taste the blood.." Shuddering she suddenly turned away, vomiting violently, and indeed it was the remaining blood of the child that had not been purged the first time she'd been ill. He held her gently, waiting for her heaving to stop. "Shh "tis alright, Milady.? The laughter that came from her was unexpected and deeper than her own voice. The voice of the very deadman She'd come so very close to destroying.

Goroth strolled into the Red Dragon Inn, his demeanor was one of a man who knew he was higher ranked than any lowly peon who might be lurking in this filthy dive. His garb was immaculate black slacks and a black silk button up shirt, with matched suede boots that made no sound as he walked.

Glittering dusky eyes roamed the inn as though he were looking over mere livestock, and stopped as they came to rest on Arya. His lips curved up in a thin smile, and he slowly sauntered toward her. His voice was a hushed hiss. "Ah, my little songbird, no singing today' You seem as though your wings have been clipped. Tell me, where is your bosom companion, Hm' Does he not guard you during the day anymore?" She stiffened hearing his voice behind her and she did not turn to look at him. she knew who it was, and did not make to run, nor start a row

"He...has another"....her words were Barely audible. He chuckled. "Let me guess...he won you over, did he not?" Eyeing her lithe body appraisingly. "I do not blame him for doing so. Tell me, did he say he loved you?" He sounded amused at her pain, he knew what had transpired and was tormenting her. "I told you...There is only me. You should never have left, Arya...." She was clutching a small silver pendant, the one Lite had given her. With trembling hands she clutched it tightly and spoke. "You did not care either, why does it suit you now to inquire after my feelings?" She knew he was baiting her, and was trying to stay calm, quiet. His tone was all mock hurt. "My dear, sweet Arya! How can you accuse me so coldly of not caring" did I not clothe and feed you your whole life through' Did I not give you shelter" I think you'll find if you think hard on it, I have done nothing but care for you. And your repay my kindness By running away." He clicked his tongue. "Not very grateful, my dear..."

"You kept me chained and collared". Quietly, anger in her low voice. "You call that caring?" "For your own protection, my dear! And...after all, it is I who has come to you now...when the man you thought loved ;you...the man who.."Smirking. "Deflowered you, has gone. I can tell by the way you hold yourself he has given you cause to mourn....all in a few short weeks...he must be very convincing if he persuaded you to submit to his desires. And what has it gotten you? Nothing but heartache." He knew his words would strike deep in her, like a dagger. She did not speak, did not look up. Her cheeks burned like fire, as feelings of being a fool and angry, and hurt, oh yes hurt, welled silently up inside of her. A great ache within her chest that made it hard to breathe. He bent to whisper in her ear. "It is I who has always been here, always at your heels.

I have watched you in the night in the long hours you thought you were alone. Always a breath behind you, and here now, even as he is not. Come home with me Arya...back where you belong....Your place is with me.? Somehow though he did not make it sound unpleasant, it did not sound like the offer a gentleman would make. She squeezed her eyes closed, still silent. The life of a slave....but there would be no wondering where her next meal would come from, no nights in the cold rain. But she could not bring herself to acquiesce. She still fingered the pendant Lite had given her, tears streaking hot down her cheeks. She was miserable.

She shifted uncomfortably, feeling his gaze on her, she knew he was watching her. She was becoming more sensitive to these things. When there was nothing else to feel, one began to feel things that had no touch, held no weight or substance. Goroth noted her discomfort and took his gaze off of her. Her talents seemed to be increasing faster than he had first guessed they might. He would have to keep her reigned tightly in and under careful control, until she served without question.

"Arya," Softly, "You are with me now. Have I not met your needs since you have come home" Do you not have fine trappings" Clothes" Did this man, Lite, did he give you these things" You have a fine bed, a chamber to call your own. What more do you need?" She shook her head sadly. "It was not things I desired, my lord. I wished only ..."Whispering. "Only his love. I understand now it cannot be. And ....I am content with you." This of course was not true. She stayed yes, her spirit was ailing, and her heart becoming bitter. Anger was in the early stages of life as well, of all her emotions, contentment was not among them. Not like it had been when she'd spent the night with him. She still recalled his embrace, and wished she did not.

She had been happiest when he had whispered her name in the night, held her, made her a woman, and now she'd lost everything. The hood she wore darkened with the moisture of her tears. Hurt and angry tears. Well, never again! Lite had cast her away, she did not need him! She would serve as she always had, her Lord and Master.

Goroth sighed and drained his glass and stood, taking her hand gently and urging her to do the same. "Let us return home, Arya, you seem...tired. I will have the other servants bring you something to eat and you may rest." He would gently encourage her toward the door. Arya did not resist and remained mute, allowing herself to be led away. Goroth had found her, watched, and was mightily displeased as he had found her just barely too late.

Arya was in love. But events soon twisted themselves as they always tended to do, in his favor. The man who had deflowered his precious slave had decided on another mate. He had seized his chance to recapture Arya, and she'd gone quietly. He thought he'd won. But she stopped eating, would not speak. She pined for the mate, the lover, the man she could not have. Goroth had tried to entice her to eat, to sleep, but she'd refused, slowly wasting away. Finally he'd confronted the man he'd confronted once before, after having taken over Arya's body in a mistaken and accidental possession resulting from Arya attempting to suck out and destroy his soul, gone wrong.

He knew the man felt guilt. Knew he would do almost anything to assuage it. Goroth made the offer. He would revert Arya to a child-state effectively undoing her deflowering, if Lite would agree to raise her. He made no mention of his plans to claim her again once she was mature enough. He would take her, and then she would be irrevocably bonded to him. He would have back his lost chance to sire a race of vampires able to manipulate shadow and see past the flesh. The deal he offered had seemed reasonable had seemed fair. But in reality this was merely a stepping stone in his own devious plans.

But it had been done. Goroth took Arya into the depths of his castle, through labyrinthine corridors, endlessly winding down into the dark. There was much to be done. After what seemed an eternity they reached a rather small and unimpressive chamber. Dark, and dank, the air was close and smelt of old death. Gently he guided her to the center of the small room, and removed her hood. Arya did not resist, she hardly opened her eyes, she didn't care what happened to her. She swayed slightly as Goroth disrobed her, felt gooseflesh rise as the cool air touched her now bare flesh, still, she did not resist. She never made a sound, she merely stood as though a marionette being held erect by some invisible puppeteer's strings.

Goroth busied himself preparing. Candles were lit, more for light than any real occult purpose. The incense however was for his purposes. A bitter and foul smelling powder lit on a block of charcoal emitted a thick choking smoke that very slowly curled throughout the small room. He selected a jar from a shelf tucked into a corner. The jar itself was unremarkable, a dusty black thing. Turning back to Arya, he approached her, unsealing the jar. The contents were a greasy thick salve of unidentifiable origin. This he began to smear on Arya's entire body. Starting at her forehead, he worked his way down, relishing the feel of her body under his hands. He had to resist the urge to attempt to take her then, for he knew it would cause damage he could never undo.

The salve was worked into her skin thoroughly, face, neck, breasts and down and down. Within thirty minutes she was glistening in the dim flickering candlelight. He replaced the seal on the jar and returned it to its place on the shelf, where he now selected a small vial of oil. This he would work into her hair and the feathers of her wings until they too shone and glistened in the candlelight. Dimly Arya wondered what the purpose of all this attention was. Perhaps, she thought, he was attempting to make her feel better, but she knew in her own heart it would never happen. These thoughts drifted faintly in her mind and she scarcely noticed the sound of Goroth's voice.

Did not pay heed to the light brushes she felt now and again as he touched her, his fingers precise, deft. She was jolted slightly when she felt the knife rend her through the heart, but the shock was brief, and now thinking her end had come, she welcomed her death, embraced it. But it was not the end. Her body had to be separated from her soul, and that meant killing the body, and capturing her essence. The thick smoke from the stinking incense had kept it from escaping the room as it pulled free from her slumping body, A muttered enchantment, and it was sucked into a bottle he'd held ready and quickly sealed with a containment spell.

This was very gently placed on a low alter. His attention was now on the corpse on the floor. He removed the long dagger from her chest, and bent his head to lick the wound, letting his saliva wet the wound and the surrounding area. The tissue began to knit, visibly healing. Soon there was nothing no scar, no mark, no indication of the murder he had just committed. But it wasn't murder. This was the beginning. He cradled Arya's nude, limp form, murmuring softly, occasionally tracing patterns with his fingers over her chakras the patterns the traced glowed faintly blue. Then the change began. The figure of a fully formed woman was no longer. She diminished. Several moments later he held in his arms a dead child of no more than four years.

The body was spindly, no hint of the curves she would later possess. Her wings once great shadowy appendages, were reduced to downy useless things. There were few real feathers on them at all. He gently laid the body down, and rose moving to the low alter, and the bottle containing Arya's soul. The bottle was lifted, and inspected. He could see the tears in the fabric of her being, and these he would knit together using one of the few substances that posed bodily danger to himself. Holy water. He donned thick leather gloves before taking up a pair of tongs to grip the bottle of the dangerous liquid, uncorking it with another pair. Deftly, the bottle containing Arya's soul was opened and the holy water poured in. The effect was instantaneous.

The water hissed and steamed, vaporizing. The bottle was re-sealed and he allowed the stuff to do its work. Moments later he inspected the swirling misting soul, observing its new wholeness. Now, for the tricky part. He had to do this precisely, or the body on the floor would remain just that and his effort would have been a waste. He mumbled under his breath, and opened the bottle, drawing out the newly healed essence, which now floated formlessly before him. The containment spell was still operating, and the thick smoke in the room kept it subdued. Drawing on the most ancient lore he knew he unwound her essence, plucking out the memories, selecting what would remain, what would be destroyed.

He vanquished her memories of himself, Of Lite, of ever having been an adult, or having a failed unconsummated marriage. He took everything from her, and left nothing but the mind of a child. Sweat beaded on his brow, the removal of memories was a difficult task, and once he'd plucked them from her soul, he cast them into the bowl where smoldered the incense. There was a bit of a flash and the smell would have made a mortal vomit. Goroth payed it no mind. Carefully he lifted his hands to "cup" the now much reduced formless mass floating before him, and ushered it to the lifeless child's body in the floor. This was the test. The mist slowly settled over the body, enveloping it before sinking in. He waited. After several long moments, the child took a choking breath, and another. She would live. He lifted her from the floor, she did not rouse to wakefulness and this was just as well. He took the sleeping child from the chamber, leaving the candles to burn themselves out. He carried her to his personal chamber, cleaned her, and dressed her in a small plain black frock. He lay her on his own bed, and let her sleep. When she finally roused, sometime later, he gently took the bewildered child to her new guardian.

He had accomplished his goal; he'd unraveled her, reverted her to a child, effectively undoing her deflowering. And when the time was ripe, he would return. For now, the child was left in the charge Of Lite and his Chosen, a female name Lydia. Arya now a bright eyed child of four and a half, had no memory of anything, and was confused upon being given away by a stranger to a stranger. She quickly warmed to her new parents though as they lavished her with affection and made her feel warm and safe and loved. She would never know her "Father" was the very reason she was now a child. She would not know of anything other than the here and now. She was loved, what else mattered" She adored her new mother and father beyond words and happily trailed wherever they might lead. And so, her life began anew"

. She was watching the huge cat with wide eyes, curiously. His Tail froze until just the tips twitched. Like lightning he sprang, gaining speed with two bounds and pounced, his huge paw pinning something to the ground with a dull Thud and a whistle like squeal. She gasped in shock. He was gonna eat the bunny?"" Quickly his face went to the fur and bit, breaking the jackrabbit's back. He then lay down and began eating bunny. Tears welled up and the child burst out sobbing. "You killed it!" She was no longer hungry for the nice lunch her mother had packed, and she threw up her breakfast at the sight of blood, sickened. He Cleaned himself, licking away all the blood before returning to her.

"Of course I killed it, I couldn't eat it alive." She was horrified and still crying. "What did it do to you? Why'd you have to do that?" "To eat. That is the way of nature, everything eats something else? "But...but you could have had peanut butter and jelly!" She was still sniffling. He saw she did not understand and patiently explained. "When my body died worms ate it and the crows, that is the cycle of life. Rabbits eat the farmers goods, if they did not get eaten they would become so many rabbits that the farmers could not grow anything then what would you eat' Your daddy says, Not all that is soft is safe." She looked at her untouched pb&j. "Did my mommy kill my sandwich' Are you going to kill me too?" She looked scared. "I don't want to be lunch!"

"Child you are safe with me as if you were in your daddy's arms" She gave him an incredulous look. "Promise?" "Yes, I promise, and you can ride me!" That dried her tears right up. "Really?" But you're so tall.....How do I get up" He Lay down in front of her. "You will need to bring your basket and blanket" She nodded happily. "Okay!"She gathered up the blanket and made sure daddy's clothes were still in the basket before tucking the blanket in too. "Uhm..." She wasn't sure how to mount, so she very carefully leaned over his back bringing her short little leg up and was soon awkwardly perched on his back with the basket, but not confident enough to sit upright, she was fairly laying on his back. He rose slowly keeping himself under her "Squeeze with your legs to hold onto me "She did her best to do as directed, feeling the play of muscles as he moved. "You're strong like daddy!" She was awestruck. Playfully he wove a little back and forth making sure she stayed atop him.

"Oh , oh you are so heavy..." Then, he ran forward gaining speed slowly so she stayed on. She Squealed in delight. "Oh!" Clinging to his back she fluttered her wings in the rush of air, feeling it blow through her hair. Since he was built for bursts it was not a long ride but a fast one "Doesn't the wind in your face feel good" She was giggling wildly. "Yes!" squealing in delight. "You run fast!" He trotted around the glen taking her close to the water then back to the grassy plain. "Where to then, ShaeCub?" "Uhm anywhere as long as daddy says it's ok. Do you have a name" I remember you said you are the Other, but what is your name?" "I do not have need of a name, daddy calls me the Other as does the Pretty one if you see him stay far away" "Pretty one" Who's that?" "He looks like me but he is black and silky and shiny he is not nice."

"If he's not nice why did daddy let him in too??"He did not let him in. That one daddy will have to explain when you are older" This was digested a moment. "Oh. Okay..can I ask another question?" "Of course Shaecub" She was eagerly trying to find out anything she can, and giggled at the name he called her by. " Shaecub ...I like that' She began petting him from her perch. "Uhm' Trying her best not to quaver. "When you...killed the bunny...did it hurt it??"I do not know. I try to kill quickly to avoid a loss but I would think that makes less pain." She nodded to herself. "Oh. But you don't try to make it hurt more, right??"No, what would be the point of that?" "Well, what was the point of the hunter doing that to you?" Her logic beginning to work itself out. He trotted along taking her back toward town and turning along the side path to their cottage.

"He made you hurt, right?" She asked."He wanted to kill me, to keep me from eating the deer he wanted to eat." "Yes, but he did not do it fast like you killed the bunny. So..." Drawing conclusions."Even though you still killed the bunny, you were.." For lack of a better word. " Nicer" He stopped at their door. "Shaecub leave the blanket and basket here. I do not understand, dead is dead " She slid down off his back so she could set it down nicely where it wouldn't get messed up or tipped over. She turned around and realized she couldn't get back up while he was standing up. "But making it hurt more is mean. Mommy says it's not nice to hurt something. Now I understand sometimes making it dead has to be done, but I don't think you have to make it hurt more." Having a pretty good grasp for being four. He lay down next to the porch so she could climb on, Which she carefully did. He stood. "Yes hurting it would be pointless" "So the hunter was not good at it, because he made it hurt, right?"

"He accomplished his goal. He killed me.?"Yes, but he did it badly. Mommy and daddy say if you are going to do something do it right. Making something hurt for no good reason is not right." "Yes your mommy and daddy care very much about the world around them.?"My mommy and daddy are very nice! I want to be like them when I grow up!?"I am sure you shall be Shaecub, the apple does not fall far from the tree." She leaned forward so she could hug the big cat's back, she was really fond of him already. "I like you, even if you eat bunnies." This was stated simply and to the point in her childlike manner."I like you too Shaecub" He trotted back off the trail to the town. Where are we going" Asked with that bubbling curiosity. "I think the Inn, your daddy would be angry if I did not replace your lunch" "Okay' He carried her toward the inn, and trotted in, with Arya still on his back. "Hold tight Shaecub" She squeezed her legs so as not to fall off, and leaned forward a little to hold tight to his shoulders. "Okay." He Pounced from the floor to a stool to atop the bar. She shrieked with laughter. " Whee!!? Her mother poked her head out of the kitchen door, hearing a familiar whoop of glee. She was still giggling as she saw her mother.

A lesson in Crystal smithing

Arya had opened a shadow portal to look through to the inn, and saw Veronica, the woman who got married and had her baby cousins in her tummy. Unable to resist temptation she stepped through the portal, taking Zephyr with her. She had brought her crystal butterfly as well, she had been entranced by it. Magpie was there as well and had kindly helped her up on a barstool and given her toast and juice. She piped up to Veronica."

Milady Veronica" Will you teach me how to make pretty things like you can?""I actually have some work here, do you want to try?" Veronica looked at her. "Yes please!" Clapping her hands in childish glee. She took a drink of the juice Magpie had given her and Zephyr was looking at the last little bit of her juice really hard and she absently let him have it. Why don't we move to the hearth?"She asked,looking at Arya. "Yes, milady!" She hopped down, wings fluttering hard as though she were trying to slow her fall, but she landed with a solid thump anyway. She looked briefly disappointed but brightened up quickly. "Will you teach me how to make things move, now?" Heading toward the hearth a bit ahead of her. Veronica nodded and smiled watching her ."do you like unicorns" "Uniwhats?" "Mythical magical creatures, like a horse with a single horn on its head" She said, still smiling at her. "That sounds pretty!" Veronica nodded. "It is, and this one has wings like yours" Kneeling by the hearth. "Really' Can it fly' I can't, Daddy says I have to wait for my big-girl feathers to come in, but it's kinda itchy"

"No, it acts like a horse with wings, but because of the weight in the crystal it can't fly" "Oh, okay. How do we make it?" Veronica rolled out a small pouch and tools."With this, see, I started already" She lifted the head and torso looking at her. "Now try and find a front leg" Arya looked at the pieces before her very carefully, then looked at the torso and after a moment picked up the right foreleg. " This one?" Veronica nodded "Well done!"Smiling at her."And these are laserdrivers" She picked one up."They use lazers to attach things or remove things" "What is a laser?" Zephyr climbed into her lap to get a better look as well, singing a few notes up to her before returning his attention to the lesson. "Intense heat "Smiling at Arya lifting one."And this one, I made special, for a little friend of mine" Arya stretched a wing out so she could pick at one of the feather sheathes, it was itchy. Looking closer. "Neat!" Veronica chuckled."Itchy wing?" "Yes, Milady..Daddy says I'm not to scratch but picking the outside part off is okay.

"Then maybe, I should let you do the work and I instruct, to....distract you? "I don't know, mommy says I'm not to touch hot things. I'm not even allowed in the kitchen when she cooks" Veronica smiled again. "This one is special, you can touch the handle but not the blade ok?" "Okay' nodding. "I'll be very, very careful." Veronica chuckled."This is a cold blade anyway" "Oh! Okay!" The rather pensive expression melted, and Zephyr chirruped at her questioningly. "No, I don't think you can hold it, it looks big for you? Answering the little pollinator dragon. "So you ready?" "Yes, Milady." "Good girl" She moved closer to the tyke."Now you take the leg and the body fixing it together" Arya was still holding the leg, and she picked up the body and carefully fitted them together, Zephyr gave her a funny look and she corrected herself, she'd had it on the wrong side at first, but now it looked right. "Like this?" Veronica nodded. "Perfect, now, take your tool and press in the button, but only when its next to the joint" Arya looked a little hesitant, but picked up the tool and very, very carefully brought it to the joint, and pressed the button, not exactly sure what to expect. Veronica was watching her and holding her hand, guiding her."There you go, perfect" The child Beamed.

"Now it has a leg!" Zephyr chirruped softly at her in approval as well. Veronica nodded. Think you can attach the other three?" "I can try.?"I'm right here, okay, go ahead" Very carefully, with Zephyr's help she picked up another leg placed it and attached it, twice more, though the third leg he nudged a little so it was perfect before she affixed it to the body. She carefully set down the tool and held up the horse. "Is this right?" Veronica hugged her, chuckling "Sweetling, you are a rare gift, you got that perfect!" Arya looked delighted. "Well, I had help from you and Zephyr.?"You did the last one as a team, I did nothing. Now, the wings"Arya chirped and warbled happily. " I like this, it's fun! Okay where do they go' It's not shaped like me.." Zephyr chirruped and spread his wings and she looked, nodding in understanding. "He says like where his are, is he right?"Veronica nodded, tapping zephyr on the snout.

"He is correct, okay, go ahead" Arya picked her tool back up and took a good long look at Zephyr's wings before placing and attaching first one, then the other. As a reward, she got a little dragon kiss on the cheek. She held it aloft. "Does that look good?" Veronica smiled and touched the horn and it came to life in her hand rearing up flapping its wings letting off some musical notes. "It's perfect" Arya was absolutely enraptured. "Oh! How do you make it move?" "The horn." "Neat!" Arya concentrated and cupped her hands 'round the figurine's shadow and carefully let it go, but held the shadow still, thus creating the illusion it was flying, though it was not. She giggled. Veronica chuckled. "Sweetie, you just made your own unicorn" Looking at her-"I am soooo proud of you!" Arya cradled it in her hands again. "I can keep it?" Awed. Veronica smiled and nodding playing with her hair. "Yeah, and you can keep the tool?"Really' Oh thank you so much! I'm going to give this to Daddy, he will like it!" She hopped up and scurried through a shadow to seek out her father, calling back. "Thank you!" With that she was gone.