“It’s a very old story,” Yashul replied, “one detailing the life of the elf craftsman, Chimelim. In the ancient days, he fashioned three tools and endowed them with great power: deep, ancient enchantments beyond any remembered today, except perhaps in the Fae. With these tools, he crafted many magical items, each with its own abilities. For his skills, he gained great respect, but he lost all peace as peoples from every nation sought him, whether to purchase one of his works or to learn his secrets. Long he lived, as is the elven nature, but never did he concede to one request, nor take on a single student. He had realized the power of his craft and regretted what he had made. He would not pass such power to another.”

“Did he destroy them? His works, I mean.”

The lady shook her head. “How could he? What he had made were as children to him. To break them would have crushed his spirit. Instead, he scattered them across both Fae and Mortal Realms, never speaking of them again even as he left this world.”

“It sounds sad,” said Eibhlin.

Yashul’s fingers drifted over the book’s script. “Yes. His name, Chimelim, means ‘to become filled with much knowledge and understanding,’ but at the end of his life, he desired the name Munmelim, ‘one who destroys much knowledge and understanding’. His ambition led to much suffering, but perhaps it might yet bring some good.”

Eibhlin didn’t understand what the lady meant by those last words, but before she could make herself ask for more, Yashul turned to Elkir and spoke to him. He climbed down and ran toward one of the halls.

“Aren’t you going to read more?” asked Eibhlin.

“No, not at the moment. There is work to do,” said Yashul. “And he only asked to read till you were ready. He’s quite excited to search for your key.”

“Are you sure you want to let your children help me? It could be dangerous,” said Eibhlin.

“In what way?” said Yashul. “Is it the danger of falling down stairs? Being swept away by a river? Encountering a wild beast? Human child, there is no more danger in this task than in the movements of daily life.”

“Maybe I might kidnap them,” said Eibhlin.

The lady laughed. “The both of them at once? And for what purpose? No, I should think that too difficult, and even if you should grab one, you would not make it far here in any direction, not without help. Tell me; is your thinking common among humans? It has been so long I cannot remember.”

Blushing, Eibhlin said, “You can’t be too careful.”

“Are you certain?” said the lady. “If, in being careful, you should miss a chance to do good or fail to act when action must be taken, then you have been much too careful. Should you have been too careful, you would not have made it here.”

“But if I’d been more careful, I wouldn’t even need to be here,” cried Eibhlin.

“Child,” said Yashul, softly, “do not mistake carefulness for prudence... nor regret for wisdom.”

Just then, Shira entered from the dining room. “Mother, I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need your assistance. Everything is just so stubborn today.”

“Oh, dear, are they now?” said Yashul, standing.

“Do you need any help?” asked Eibhlin. “I’m pretty good at cooking, or I can at least help prepare ingredients, to repay you for all the help you’re giving me.”

Yashul guided Eibhlin to a seat. “Miss Eibhlin, do not worry over such a small thing. Repay us? There’s no need, though I assure you your kindness is appreciated. Besides, I’m not sure how the tools might respond to a stranger such as yourself. So, please, relax. We shall have your breakfast ready shortly. Now, Elshiran, which ones are causing you trouble?”

“Well, everything, but the worst is the paring knife. It still won’t let me use it.”

Yashul sighed. “I know the old thing is stubborn, but honestly! What am I to do with it?”

*

Eibhlin had assumed, based on their interactions, that Elkir couldn’t understand her language. However, this assumption soon proved an illusion, for upon touching the correct topic, Eibhlin found his language skills far above adequate.

“And then,” exclaimed the child, “Chimelim appeared with his magic claymore forged from a dragon’s tooth, the Chaos Cutter, E’imun, and cut the monster in half! Swish!”

“Amazing. So Chimelim was also a strong warrior?” said Eibhlin.

“One of the greatest!” replied Elkir. “Of any that battled in the Elder Wars, Father says almost no one has as many songs and tales of heroism. He was the greatest elf to ever live.”

“I thought Mother and Father said that titled belongs to Melya, the Wise,” said Shira.

“But all he did was talk,” said Elkir.

“‘Wisdom is greater than might.’ Didn’t Chimelim himself say this?”

“But it’s just talking!”

The siblings continued their debate as the three approached the other homes. As before, Eibhlin’s eyes looked from one roof to the next. The way they stood made her think of mushrooms or wildflower popping up in clumps. From a wooden tower she hadn’t noticed before came a long whistle, followed by flocks of birds darting out from the covered top and breaking apart to go every which-way.

“Maybe the messengers have some information that could help us find the key,” said Shira, half to herself as her eyes followed the birds zipping over the grassland.

Elkir jumped forward. “I could ask. I’m fast.”

Shira nodded. “Okay. If no one knows anything, ask them to send out a sparrow to ask around the settlement. It can’t hurt. Eibhlin and I shall start on the Hall. Meet us there.”

Throwing a clumsy salute, Elkir rushed off. Shira brought Eibhlin back to the building where, just the day before, the human had emerged from the wardrobe. “Father suggested we start here, since this is also where the fairy door is kept,” said Shira.

What had once brought wonder now turned to despair as Eibhlin stared at the immensity of the Hall. “How can we ever search it all?” she said.

“By starting now.”