Daughter Mine

"Let me tell you a story, daughter mine."

The firelight flickered against the rough stone walls in the humble candlelight of late evening. A light grey mare beckoned her daughter, a sturdy little dappled filly, forward with a gentle shake of her mane, and the unsteady youngster slid to rest against her broad side, nickering curiously. 

"There has always been magic in the world," she began, voice gently reverent. "It's been a tool of our kind for many, many generations. Even though it's a rare gift, it's a special one." She gazed out the window at the night sky, tracing the budding constellations with her eyes. "Three forces shaped the world -- always in balance, for a triangle makes the sturdiest shape, you see. One was called Destiny. Those with grand ambitions or impossible goals often chased Destiny's calls, but would soon discover a fickle master. For you never quite know if you'll get exactly what you strive for... Destiny might have other plans for you, something a little bit different, something you weren't expecting, and perhaps not be what you intended at all."

She nudged her foal, who appeared to be nodding off. The young thing startled awake, and gave her mother's side an absentminded lick. The mare chuckled fondly. "The second, Fortune, is the most wry - and the most dangerous. Those who seek their fortune often seek a way around the hard work in the world, as well, and receive their dues at a terrible cost. You must avoid Fortune, my dear, and come upon everything you have honestly." She blinked slowly. "But the last... The last of the three is called Grace. She is very wise, and offers blessings only to those who work hard to earn them, or reach out in a time of great need. Those who reach out to Grace are the blessed, and will share in the blessings of the merciful." The mare's voice trailed off as the noticed her little filly, nearly asleep with her head on her forelegs.

"Promise me, darling, that if you ever do reach out to the powers of the world, that you reach for Grace. She is the one who will see into your heart, see your intentions, and gift you with something you can use to help others. Selflessness is of Grace, Glade. Don't forget..."

- - - - -

The memory faded as Glade blinked into the fading sunlight, a tear in her eye. She slowly lifted the last stone in her teeth - preferring to use physical labor for her task than her magical abilities, should Grace deem it a shortcut to her dedication - and carefully placed it atop the little shrine. It stood at the edge of a beautiful sea cliff, the sun's dying light glinting off the waves below. She carefully unrolled the parchment she'd brought with her, and placed it, along with the spare ink well, under the center stone.

There... a new Shrine. It was humble, rough hewn from ocean-smoothed stones, but her mother always did say that the effort was worth more than the showmanship, and that Grace, of the three, valued humility and honesty over grand gestures. She'd placed it atop the ridge of this particular sea cliff so that people would have to make the arduous climb to reach the shrine, and would be rewarded with the view at the top. The symbolism felt... appropriate, to Glade.

She stepped back and bowed her head respectfully. "Give me the strength to help others. I want to be a force of good the world, and leave the people of Ivras better off than before I'd encountered them. Please... grant me this wish."