Family

[Celandine]

By the light of dawn on the fourth day following Celandine Van Der Aart made her farewells. Her father and his lover and his horse stood at the gate, wishing her all that was fondness, giving smiles where they could. Vaeron had wrapped a small pack for her, saying that everything she would need was inside. Soft blankets for a bed. A hunting knife. Trail rations. Tinder and flint for starting a fire. The basic necessities that a starting adventurer would need.

"I've got my needles," Celandine said quietly, fingering the nobbly ends of the knitting needles poking from her satchel.

"But you cannot use knitting needles in a fight," Philomel said softly, Aderyn feeding as the mighty faun cradled him in one arm. She seemed to be adapting very well to this second chance at motherhood.

"They are my kind of weapon, mother," Celandine replied, looking at her directly in the eyes. "Words and knowledge and my skill."

"But darling, you have the ability to fight," Philomel stressed, having ensured the young protoge had had every opportunity to learn how to fight with a blade.

"Yes I can," Celandine shrugged. "But you agreed. This is my journey. My life. I'm setting out on my own."

The middle aged faun looked down at her heiress, of whom she had so many hopes and with whom she had made so many mistakes. Many of those she was trying to rectify with her second child.

Softly, Philomel sighed, but then nodded.

"I did agree. Just be careful."

"I will," said Celandine, and she meant it.