Two children sat together 'neath the winding roots of their village's Mother Tree where the mana was rich. Humbeline had finished today's studies and wanted to show their new trick to the younger Tiphaine. Among the knotted roots with the sounds of the forest and rusting leaves up above, the children could pretend to conspire in secret from the adults gathering nearby for an afternoon prayer.
Tiphaine watched their friend with delight. It was normal among Elves to weave magic; indeed it was usually taken for granted in daily life. However young Tiph wouldn't be able to hear their own Whisper for a few more seasons and found magic fascinating. Only Humbeline who aspired to be a master magister would indulge Tiph's curiosity during practice sessions. Having a captive audience made it feel more like a game than work.
Today something was different than usual. Humbel would sometimes practice with wizard's circles but this one was strangely angular and polygonal instead of the gentle, looping rings commonly used in the village. Tiphaine asked, "What kinna funny circle is that?"
"This, my friend," they replied with an overly dramatic flourish at odds with the drooping yellow flowers entwined in their braided hair, "is a circle of the old Stone-Men!" The silence hung heavy save for a few of the adults holding back polite laughter. Tiph stared in wide-eyed awe. They'd never even seen a real dwarf before; none had traveled to this region in decades at least. Humbeline drew immense satisfaction from having such a rapt audience and would go on in later years to garner a reputation for showmanship.
"We've been studying them even though teacher thinks they're boring," the young spellweaver continued, kneeling back down to finish the circle. "But they're not boring, not at all! The Dwarfs practically invented magic and they don't even have Whispers!" Such a notion was hard to fathom for Humbeline who couldn't dream of being unable to hear the Whispers after the last few years. On the other side of things, Tiphaine, not yet the age to hear one, found the idea quite marvelous indeed.
It took several minutes to complete the circle and the end result was rather complex. The sharp angles and straight lines contained within seemed out of place on the forest floor and Tiph suddenly had an epiphany as for why Elvish circles involved softer, organic curves. Something about this one seemed like-
"It's just maths, really," Humbel interjected, finishing the thought. "That's how they tapped into the Lines. It's real precise, though. That means I can do this!" They had placed a small seed in the center of the circle and came to position their fingertips on the outer ring. A gentle light seeped along the lines, filling in the circle before flowing into the seed.
The anticipation was palpable for the few breathless seconds before the seed sprouted. Tiphaine would remember the following moments for the rest of their life: a seedling sprouted before their eyes and grew, rising like a snake reaching for the sun, until a shiny red bulb appeared. There was a pause and the bulb burst open into a ring of brilliant, fiery petals. Tiph gasped, or would have had they not been holding their breath, to realize that the petals weren't like fire; the blossom was a wreath of living flame that burned steadily without consuming the plant itself for nearly a full minute. By this time even a few of the adults had time to admire young Humbeline's handiwork. Few of them had ever even attempted such a complex spell and the proud young weaver basked in the attention.
Many years later, the great wizard Tiphaine would recall that time gazing at the fire blossom as the moment they decided they would seek out the Dwarves.
Alfar village, early Third Era
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