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I got home and discovered that Mom was out on some errand and Dad was cooking dinner.  Last time that happened Mom was out dealing with some volcano.  I forget sometimes that she has a day job, so to speak.  Dad didn't volunteer, so I didn't ask.  We had a dinner guest.  Well, two guests.  I had Ariel over and, of all things, Dad had Sand over.

I wasn't feeling that well, but kept it to myself.

It was kind of strange to see him at our kitchen table, eating garlic cheese bread and spaghetti.  He smiled at me and offered me a little bit of advice.  "Sometimes, just sometimes, when you are offered a gift, or need to exchange one, you can give the person offering you the gift the same gift in return.  Don't count on it, but remember it as an option, just in case."

He had also brought my dad some black dream sand, the kind that neutralizes lightwalker powers.  I was nervous to see so much in the house.  My dad just laughed, took a hand full and his light consumed it without darkening.  It is a powerful tool, I guess, but not against the level of power my dad has.  Perfect, perhaps, for those renegades on starstrands or lesser types.

Then Sand and my Dad got to talking about the contest of the Bitter King that Ariel's dad had resolved.

The elves and dwarves were close to war, and had resolved on a challenge match between champions.

There was a maze test and neither side was succeeding.  Turns out the Bitter King wanted a war, not to mention he wanted not only a claim on the mountain but to eat the Oread's power.  No winner would suit him just fine.

Ariel's dad offered to resolve the stalemate by beating the challenge, which he did by virtue of his runic connections and the master puzzle ring (to the two he gave us).  As the winner, nominally neither side's champion, he mediated a settlement that was fair and that met each side's essential needs. That resolved the contest, created a winner and broke the Bitter King's plot, leading to all the historic complications.

I thought about that and about Sand's advice.  The next morning I was still feeling a little out of sorts, as if I wasn't quite myself.  Better put, as if I wasn't quite all in myself.  My Dad noticed.  Hmm, he said.  You are starting to grow into your heritage.  Too bad your Mom isn't here, but you might consider visiting the oread of the mountain.  

He had a similar look as when I came home from school and asked him about puberty and he suggested that I talk to my Mom.  Not that my Dad won't talk to me about anything, but sometimes I find that I'm more comfortable having talked with Mom about some things.

So Ariel and I took the bus out to the park and then began to climb up the mountain.

The Oread was glad to see us.  I'm starting to think of her as "The Oread" -- with capital letters.  And she is becoming more and more mature, adult like, if that makes any sense.

Just as we got through hugging each other and making some small talk, we were interrupted.

"I am the true pretender to the throne of the bitter king" an elf announced, dressed all in black with silver runes embroidered on his clothing.

"I demand the crown" he then said.  "You must exchange gifts."

Doh, I thought.  When the Bitter King fell, his crown remained. We were stuck in some pattern.

"To you I give respect, long life, no harm or danger, pleasure and value, plentiful food."  He was a bitter king wannabe, what they call a pretender (a claimant to a throne).  I knew there was something up.

Then it hit me.

"Your gift is too much, since you claim the kingdom as a matter of right, so I give you your gift back, redoubled, along with the crown." The magic seized hold and the next thing I knew he had become a milk cow, with a crown on its head.

Guess a magically protected milk cow fits the promises of his gift.  Nasty trap that.  But, the pattern we established allowed me, by exerting my will, to always be allowed to return a gift as a part of a gift giving exchange.  That could come in useful some time.

These things often come in threes.

The next one, another pretender, attempted to embrace the spirit of the wendigo, a maneating , poison breathing, chaos creature of madness and cold.  Ariel wasn't amused, but she took care of the challenge so quickly I wasn't sure it had happened.  Guess she doesn't care for maneaters, and chaos, poison cold critters have met their match when they come up against her.

You could tell.  The first pretender had embraced the treachery of the Bitter King Ariel had slain. The second embraced both poison and chaos, a direction the last Bitter King had taken even if most elves would not have followed that path.

The third pretender was tougher.  He combined the spirits of the air with confusion, but the rings led us through his patterns and we beat him, taking the spirits away from him (and each of us ending up with a sylph of the south wind to bear us up in flight as we needed her).

Then we hit the last one.

He came to the edge of the meadow.

You could tell he was different. Not as fancy in his dress, not as garbed in power, but he seemed wiser and perhaps even a touch humble (for an elf).  He asked for the crown, and was open in stating that unless we wanted to triumph in the final challenge and take the post ourselves, our best interests lay in giving it to him.  We didn't want the thing -- or the job of Bitter King -- and were more than willing to send the crown (and the cow it was on) to him if he would release captives, a traditional exchange.  Turns out he had captives of the earth, elemental gnomes that the last Bitter King had taken from the dwarves.  He released them in a slow flurry, without surprising anyone.  Most merged with the peace of the place and the Oread, though Ariel and I both ended with one.

He was a different pretender to the bitter king, one suited for conflict of all kinds, and discretion over valor. Since he ended up with the crown, he moved past the pretender stage, and I suspect he will be the next Bitter King.  The right kind for this age where war is unlikely and treason is not as potent as negotiation.  Should be interesting to see how the elves do with a Bitter King that is not tainted by chaos, corrupted by confusion or given to excesses of brute force.  I think he will rule his portion wisely and was glad to give him the crown and a gift of power (d2 points of POW sacraficed in the transaction) for good will and luck.

Before he left he smiled, saying that true war was coming for the elves and that while the others would have been fine for peace, they needed him for war.  He threw Ariel a key and said "a favor for a favor, my good wishes as well" and then he was gone.

Results of challenges.

Each of the girls now has a small sylph (but 3+1d6 to SIZ, STR and POW), of the south wind -- will not attack others, but has a healing 8 spell and can use its magic points to heal and to carry (each magic point spent increases STR by 2 until the sylph is dismissed).

Each has a medium gnome.

Each sacrificed d2+1 points of POW (not potential, just current), roughly the amount gained from the recent challenges in exchange for making the exchanges stick and finishing the quest.  In addition, for one point of will, each can force a gift giving challenge to take the pattern of the other giver receives back whatever gift they would give.

And Ariel has a magic key ... (hmm, next story coming on <g>).