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Portrait of an unseemly elfShe could only ever remember being called Dinensil, a name her childhood carershad given her. This suited her better than the name her mother had chosen whichhad fallen out of mind even in the long memories of the fair folk. In the commontongue Dinensel meant 'silent star' for she could be as quiet and unnoticed as astar in daylight or its shadow upon the ground at night, and as inconstant.She was of average height for an elf, but short for the royal family to which shebelonged. Her hair was black as the midnight tide and its long lengths werebraided in a coil close to her head when she was outdoors. Her skin was as pale asthe summer moon in stark contrast and uncommonly dark eyes reflected the colour ofher hair in their bottomless depths. She was no great beauty yet still quitecomely until compared with her sisters. At a family gathering, she would be theone with the torn gown and loose strands of snagged hair pulled from its crowningarrangement, or the smear marks on face or bare arm. Amongst humans, she wouldhave been called a tomboy; amongst her family they knew not what to make of her.She was a lesser princess of the direct royal line, considered lesser by virtue ofmore than just the order of her birth. She appeared to be not as intelligent asher sisters and had not the disposition towards long hours and days of study. Itwas a miracle that her tutors could get her to learn her letters. Her heart wasnot still and she raged against the virtual confinement of the long lessons. Sheyearned to run through the woods and compete at targets with her brothers and malecousins. Though they tried long and hard, eventually all became certain that shewould never take the wizardly arts of her sisters and for this she was consideredto be lacking an essential component of being an elf princess. That she excelledand sometimes surpassed her brothers with the bow was seen as yet another markagainst her status. Many believed that for a female to actually take up a weaponwas only a fanciful daydream from the epic poetry of elder days.Yet still she persisted and drew the admiration first of her archery instructorbefore her sword master reckognised her rare talents. Her training focussed herabilities through her dexterity rather than mere strength.These became her favourite times and she would spend many long hours leading intodays at practice. At other times she was snubbed by jealous males who sneered atthe way she had outstripped them in her training. At home she was shamed by hersisters who jeered at her inability to master the traditional arts. Whenever shespent time near other people she felt the bitter barbs of rejection and helplessvictimisation.As she neared her elven majority, an incident changed her future. A reckless youngswordsman had taken teasing a younger lass to cruel lengths. Dinensil and herclassmates tried to intervene but their efforts were spurned. The girl lookedpleadingly to her as the youth tried to drag her away. Dinensil's reactions wereswifter than her comrades and she had engaged the attacker with her rapier beforethe others could draw their swords. The unexpected combat was quick and decisive.The attacker left hurriedly with precious blood flowing copiously from a deep gashto his sword arm.Although her actions were defended by witnesses, yet still it brought scandal uponthe royal family name and barbed taunts followed when she moved amongst thecommunity. It was not long before she had had enough and in the flighty mannerthat was often ascribed to her, she left without word to anyone. Only her bowmaster and mentor may have had some inkling beyond the others had he ever beenasked. None went after her and, to salve their conscience if ever they thought ofit, the community came to agree that it was for the best and maybe she would learn
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