To Gwen, the memory was still fresh even after so many years. It was a happy one she could never forget. It was her oldest memory.
---
Gwen was four, maybe five, and played “Runecarver” with some chalk and stones. No other kids were around to play with her, but that was fine. Runecarvers almost always worked alone; she just wanted to play with the chalk. She concentrated on drawing shapes and symbols until she made a square that she was happy with.
“Now! Make this Stone Move!” She pressed her hands into the chalk square playfully, expecting nothing to happen, and for the first time, they glowed. Her hands on the square felt odd, and as she looked, the stone and her hand darkened. She moved her hand out, and the darkness stayed put for a moment before fading again.
She pressed her hands into it again and yelled. “DARKEN!” again, her hand darkened in the square. She looked at her hands; they felt way too warm in the light, but she didn’t care. She stood up and ran inside, past the kitchen, down the hall, and into the room at the far end.
Without knocking, she entered the room to hear her mother’s immediate rebuke. “Gwenifreya. I told you not to enter here without knocking.” But Gwen didn’t care. She was ecstatic, bouncing from foot to foot.
“But! BUT! But mommy! You have to see what I can do! Come on!” Gwen ignores her mother’s sounds of disappointment, but her mother can’t ignore her daughter’s yelling and tugging.
“What can you do now?” Her mother’s voice was strained and highly bothered, but she did not want to be angry.
“I made my hands darker!” Gwen said it as though it were the most important thing. Her mother, trying her hardest to contain her annoyance, turned her head in confusion. Gwen continued, bouncing on her toes and flailing her arms about. “I was playing Runecarver and drawing shapes, and I drew a really good square. I put my hand on it, and it started glowing. THEN IT MADE MY HAND DARK!”
Her mother’s face went from distantly annoyed to shocked and interested in a split second. “You Did WHAT!? Show me!” She was also yelling with joy now.
They rushed out of the house to the chunk of smooth stone she was playing on and showed her the symbols. “Watch!” Gwen pressed her hand into the square. It glowed, then darkened.
Immediately her mother grabbed her up and hugged her. “You can use magic! I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!”
---
Though the memory was so far away in both time and space, it immediately came back to her. The Parcel in her hand and the note with it brought the memory back. The note was messy, barely legible, but immediately recognizable as her distant mother’s erratic handwriting.
Dear Gwen,
Thank you for your letter, and Happy Birthday. I’m sorry I couldn’t write back earlier. I was in Sorin for a while. While I was there, I tried out their famous pear pies, and they were delicious. When you return, I’ll be sure to take you back and share one with you. I also sent some things for your birthday since it was so close. Hopefully, this will make it to you in time for your seventeenth birthday. I hope you enjoy them. I was originally saving them for your tenth birthday, but I couldn't give them to you then. First is a pen for you, included in a box for other tools you’ll collect. Second, are all of my notebooks. I wanted to teach you these personally, but you and your father left too soon. I think you’re old enough to start now even without me. Lastly, the second layer of cloth is a Silk Rune Cloth. It wasn’t easy to get such a large piece, so don’t mess it up. Remember to wash it nicely and not be too rough with it. It’s resistant to damage, not invulnerable. I hope you’ll be able to get through the books soon and be able to show me how far you’ve come when you come back.
With love, Mom.
She pulled off the twine and rough canvas to see the Hexagonal Rune Cloth. It was bone white and glossy smooth. Perfect for drawing runes on; very sturdy, easy to use and reuse, and quite large at almost ten feet to a side. It must have been quite expensive to get this.
Wrapped in the silk were a small wooden box and three books. The books were unmarked and bound in Black, Grey, or White leather but recognizable as her mother’s. She didn’t need to open them to notice her mother’s handiwork. The runes embossed around the edges of the cover were clear and smooth. That was just like her mother, barely able to write her name, yet able to make world-class runes in or on anything. She had to laugh at it. She peeked into one of them and saw they were all about Runes. The only unfortunate thing about them was that her mother wrote them. At least the challenge of deciphering them would force her to take her time and digest what she was reading.
In the wooden box was only one tool, a small metal rod the size and shape of a thick pen. At one end was a smooth glassy tip she knew to be Mana Crystal. At the other was a drawstring with a metallic coin shaped like a flower. Hidden in its details were angle tick marks and a small spell rune on the other side. The pen also had a sturdy clip with 'Gwenifreya Lleanne,' her full name, engraved on it in the flowing cursive of Lhaebhin-Sah, The Language of the Lhae and her mother's native language, and flowers engraved on the body.
She laughs at that. It was just the kind of thing her mother would give her, and it was just what she would have asked for. It was a good birthday. “Gwen! Hurry up! You need to head out for that delivery! If you don’t go soon, you’ll be late!” She heard her father’s deep tenor call out to her from inside.
Gwen puts her gifts down on her bed and shouts back. “Sorry! I’m coming!” She would have to read them later, she had work to do, and neither her father nor the shop owner suffered slackers.
She slipped on her shoes, grabbed her coat and scarf, then ran out and down the stairs. The delivery was on the counter near her father. She rushed to grab it, but her father called her only a step after picking it up. “Ah-ah-ah. Don’t go rushing out too quickly.”
She skidded to a halt and turned around to face him. “Sorry, I’m off.” They kissed each other on the cheek, and she started again.
She was out of the door and heard him call out. “Good luck! And stay warm!”
Einfaust was busy as usual in the late South Winter morning. The dusting of snow the city received had melted weeks ago, but the pervasive chill had yet to leave. Her coat and scarf were cozy and well made, guarding her against it nicely as she quickly walked down the rough paved roads.
Her delivery was of custom-made jewelry for some wealthy guild leader or something. She didn’t care, but she knew where to go and that if she was quick, she could get a nice tip.
While she ran, a noise rang out in the city. Everyone paused and listened to it for a moment. It was odd, not the typical clock bell, but a warning bell. She almost didn’t recognize it but didn’t stop.
