“I hereby initiate Elven Oath 13, Section A: Should an Elven child be in need of a home, I will take them in no matter the cost. I will raise them as I would my own, love them as I would my own, and protect them as I would my own.”
     Catalina transferred the bundled infant to Anwel, causing him to blink in surprise. He gazed down at the baby in his arms, noting its simple black hair and human ears.
     “Pardon me? Elven child?”
     Catalina unraveled the glamour hiding her true features, and realization swept over him as he realized she was a fellow Elf. She looked like a goddess. With amber colored skin, shoulder-length, silky brown-pink hair, and opal-colored eyes. Encircled around her head was a simple bronze headpiece and, dangling from the front of it, was an opal jewel.
     Based on that alone, he not only knew that she was a healer, but a midwife as well. At once, he bowed his head at her in a sign of respect, which she dismissed with a wave of her hand, ushering him to straighten.
     “My apologies, miss. I did not realize you were a High Elf.”
     “That is of no consequence now. You are aware of the Oaths, correct?” Catalina demanded; her brows narrowed in concern. Was I wrong in choosing this Half Elf to take in the princess? I've spent the last two days watching him, assessing his abilities and intelligence. Despite his wife being put on bedrest by her midwives, he spent the last two days working and helping others. This morning, I witnessed him say goodbye to his wife and still child as he laid them to rest.
     Anwel swallowed as memories from his childhood came flooding back to him. Even though they lived on the human side of the Border, and he was a mere Half Elf, his father dedicated hours to teaching him the Elven Oaths, emphasizing their significance.
     “Yes,” he answered after a brief pause. “It’s just been... a long time since I’ve read them, ma’am.”
     “Good. Her name is Lyrael Weyfiel, and I am under strict Oath, as you are now.” Catalina responded and glanced out the window covered with handsewn curtains, her eyes scanning the tree line for anything suspicious.
     Anwel’s head snapped up in shock. “Did you just say Weyfiel? As in Quee—”
     She cut him off abruptly, nodding her head. “Yes, Queen Saelihn Weyfiel.”
     “Wait, why? Why is she here?”
     “This is Princess Lyrael, the heir of Queen Saelihn. She is to be protected at all costs. Do you understand?” Her hard eyes drilled into him, and he swallowed the lump that appeared in his throat, nodding. “I’m sure you have not heard, as you are on the wrong side of the Border, but there was a prophecy spoken by an apprentice Oracle. It stated, 'The rabbit will save us from the snake.' We believe her to be the rabbit, and she has... unprecedented magic potential.”
     Catalina’s eyes swept around the small cabin as Anwel gazed down at the child in his arms. Magic? I don't feel a lick of magic coming from her.
     “We have suppressed her magic in order to hide her from enemies who wish her harm.” She explained, as if she read his thoughts. “As you can tell, we glamoured her features, so she blends in with the humans on this side of the Border. Do not, and I mean, do not let her cross before her twenty-first birthday.”
     Anwel frowned, dread settling in his stomach. “Why?”
     Her answer was simple. “Crossing before will cause the magic holding the rest of her powers to crumble, overwhelming her. Her body will go into shock since it is not accustomed to bearing that much power, and she will not survive its release.”
     “Take this, give it to her on her sixteenth birthday.”
     She deposited a golden locket into his outstretched hand, and he flipped it over, finding a white rabbit with small golden jewels for eyes on the front.
     Then, just as fast as she appeared, Catalina left, unraveling the magic that kept the princess asleep. He looked down at the child in his arms, and as the front door clicked shut, Lyrael’s blue eyes opened, and she let out an ear-piercing wail.
     Anwel smiled and brushed his thumb across her soft cheek. “I think I will name you after my late wife and child, who bore the name before you. Hello, little Elysande.”
     And then, he got to work.

⋆˙⟡ ☾ 𖤓 ☽ ⟡˙⋆

     Some years passed. At first, the people within their village had wondered what happened to Anwel’s wife, but once word had traveled that she hadn’t survived labor, people stopped asking. As the years passed, Lyrael grew, and so did her magic prowess, which seemed to double in strength with every year that flew by.
     When she reached her tenth birthday, Anwel had to pull out the books his father used to learn magic when he was a child. He began teaching Lyrael what he could from these books, despite being a Low Elf with limited magic knowledge and power.
     Anwel ran his weathered fingers over the spine of the last book from his father’s collection, missing him dearly. His father had passed away when he was a teen, in the woods behind their cottage. It had been unexpected. He hadn’t been sick, and the village doctor didn’t know what happened or why he had passed so suddenly. Anwel had been the one to find him, frozen beneath a large swath of birch trees.
     Lyrael, who waltzed into their cottage with a large pouch of money, greeted him. “Hi, Papa. Are you back from hunting already?”
     Anwel looked up from the book in his hands and nodded. “I couldn’t find much to sell, just a few small animals that Ievis doesn’t buy. I just put them in the shed out back to smoke for food.”
     “Papa, what’s this?”
     He looked up, his eyes falling on the small black box in her hand. “That, my dear...” he said, his smile widening, “is your birthday present.”
     Her eyes, a deep blue, widened, and she looked back at the box. “Really? You didn’t have to get me anything, Papa. You should return it, we could use the money.”
     “Just open it, child.” He insisted with a smile, motioning toward it with a tilt of his head. He could already picture the smile that would spread across her face when she saw it. She hesitated, and he laughed. “The jeweler owed me a favor, sweetheart. It costed me very little.”
     That was a lie. It didn’t cost him anything, and he hadn’t gotten it from a jeweler, but she didn’t need to know that.
     He watched her open it, a gasp slipping from her. Her eyes snapped up to his and then back down to the box. It was a golden locket with a white rabbit on the front, with tiny golden jewels for eyes.
     “A locket? Papa, you shouldn’t have...it’s beautiful.”
     Anwel stood and moved toward her, pointing to it. “Open the locket. There’s a surprise inside.”
     Lyrael’s grin widened as she gingerly removed it from the box and clicked the small button on the side. The locket sprung open and inside of it, on the right face of the locket, was a tiny picture. It was the picture that they had taken at the festival some months back. They were standing side by side, his hand on her shoulder, both wearing wide, cheerful smiles.
     There had been a peculiar man who had a booth, raving about these ‘pictures’. Anwel didn’t quite understand how they worked, even though the man had excitedly explained it. Both he and Lyrael were in such awe at the pictures the man had shown them as an example, that he had to have one taken of them. And when Lyrael wandered away to look at something else, he’d asked the man if there was any way it could be small enough to go in a locket.
     Anwel gently took the locket from her hands and unclasped it. She set the empty box down and lifted her wavy black hair, allowing him to clasp it around her neck. Once he secured it, she dropped her hair and thumbed the locket gently, glancing up at him.
     “Thank you, Papa. I love it, it’s beautiful.”
     He kissed the top of her head and aimed for the fireplace, which had a simmering pot of soup hanging over it. “Anything for you, my little rabbit.”