The cobbled streets of Álfhaimer twist and wind around tiny shops offering storms in a teacup, or ground Wulong horn. The sky overhead should be bright and blue, a triumphant backdrop to set the scene. It isn't. It's overcast, and damp, and the shoppers hurry down the street with the nervous alacrity of people who are not entirely sure whether they need an umbrella or not.

Her mother points out the shop, and lets her lead the way through the plain glass door.

"Be with you in just a moment!" a voice calls from the recesses of the shop.

Seidhi peers at the various arcane devices stacked precariously around the shop's front. A stuffed lemur leans dangerously, seeming as though it might start an avalanche if she so much as breathes on it.

"Oh, þóra! It's been too long. Is this your daughter?" Penelope asks, popping into view behind the counter.

"The very same," þóra affirms. "It's her birthday today," she continues.

Seidhi ducks her head nervously, and then catches herself and straightens.

"Say no more," Penelope exclaims. "I know exactly what you're here for! I got the most darling little enchanted tea set in just yesterday ..." she explains. Seidhi blinks at her in astonishment.

"Hah! Oh, you should have seen your face. No, I know you're here for an awakening. Since you're already in on the masquerade, that'll be ₭750."

þóra winces, but passes over a small bag of kisses.

Penelope leans forward, and taps Seidhi on the head.

And her world expands.

There are shapes, here, and colors. Paths, leading away in every direction. It should be dizzying, but it's not. She understands every choice presented to her, and she's planned for them, and the only question is how far can she go.

She can feel the well of power within her, motes of light dwelling in a space within her soul. The space is big, bigger than she had dared to hope, but it's not enough. She can feel the walls crushing her, holding her back.

She throws caution to the wind and pushes with all her might. Everything pauses for a moment, as though drawing her attention to what the consequences will be. No more milk, the shapes whisper. No more smells, the colors warn. You'll need the sun like water, the paths tell her. She doesn't care.

She's never wanted anything as much as she's wanted this thing, this chance to put her boldest plan into motion. She pushes, straining, and her walls give way.

She is startled by the sudden release, pausing to watch the motes swirl around their new expanse. It's not actually much bigger -- maybe a third larger than it was originally -- but she feels instinctively that this is enough, that this is a big as she can go.

I'm going to be a witch and save everyone, she tells herself inanely.

One of the paths gently intrudes on her attention. An offer of assistance, of solidarity, of belonging.

Who are you? she asks. The answer she receives is running streams and gleaming steel. An army marches under a unified banner, light streaming past them into dark places.

She takes a deep breath, for all that there is no air in this place.

Thank you for the offer, she says, but I think I have to do this alone.

For a moment it feels like a mistake, but she has a plan, and her power cap is large enough that she won't need help. She can do this, and she will.

Academic, she tells the shapes. And as they reconfigure and tile themselves in patterns across her vision, she pours her precious starting motes into schools of magic. And the colors pour back, filling her mind with spells and secrets.

Consortation 1, and Conjuration, so she'll never be without the ability to buy raw materials in a serious pinch.

Alchemy 4, so that she can turn those materials into magic to make herself better.

Witchery 5, drinking deep of the gift her ancestor left her. Now she will never be without a home, without a place to go.

Waterworking 3, because it's her birthright, and the magic will support her other gifts.

Familiarity 4, so she will have a loyal companion and a sharper mind.

Portals 5, her waterworking and familiarity propping up her audacious reach for the farthest shores of knowledge. She will be able to step between planes and between places, to go where she needs to go.

The more idiosyncratic options crowd her now. She looses her need to sleep and gains the ability to see beyond. She claims the ice-shaping that is her people's heritage, and with it a twist in fate that will make her divinations more potent, once she knows how to cast them at all. She reaches for invisible servants, to make her work faster, and takes the third nipple that comes with them with dignity.

Finally, one mote remains. It swirls aimlessly inside her soul, trailing sparks of color that flare and dampen according to their whims.

Gently, tenderly, she pours it into Hexes, because she will need to know it eventually, and so she may as well start now.

She closes her eyes, taking a moment to simply be still. With an effort of will, she releases her grip on this place and it relaxes it's grip on her in turn.

When she opens her eyes, the shop is just as she left it.

"That was fast -- normally people aren't nearly so decisive," Penelope comments.

Seidhi smiles. "I had a plan," she explains, patting her pocket. "Thank you, Penelope."

"Oh, it's no trouble at all, and less still since I'm being paid. It was good to see you again, þóra. Your daughter looks like she wants to get home and play around with her new powers, but I hope you'll drop by again soon so we can have a proper catch-up."

Seidhi's mother agrees, and they exchange a last few pleasantries before they duck out of the shop and head out for the portal garden.

Seidhi is itching to use her magic. Seeing the portal garden that connects Álfhaimer to the various other Alliance worlds makes her fingers tingle and her blood race. I could do that, she thinks.

Her mother graciously agreed to schedule her birthday party on another day, so as soon as they arrive home Seidhi exclaims "Thanksmomloveyoubye," and disappears to her room because now she has magic.