At the farmhouse everything seemed completely ordinary. It was strange to think that less than an hour ago she'd been a dragon, or something like it, and before that she'd been attacked, but now she was here, smelling the scent of lunch cooking. It was cheese pasta, one of her favorites and one they seldom had.

She stepped in the door, almost expecting everyone to notice something different about her, but her mother smiled and greeted her the same as always. "You look happy, did you enjoy yourself?"

She considered the question for a moment. "Yes," she said, deciding that the wonder of flight definitely outweighed the bad things. For a moment she almost said more, but she just couldn't picture it. "Hi mom, I'm a dragon and I killed somebody." How was she supposed to say that? She couldn't. Just then the door swung open, bumping her where she still stood just inside, and her brother Dentol came in, carrying a pitcher of milk from the well-house outside where it had been cooling since milking time that morning. A few drops sloshed over the edge as he tried to maneuver around the unexpected obstacle of his sister.

"Out of the way, sis, or you won't be drinking anything but water with your lunch."

"I'm moving! I'm moving!" she replied, and as the ordinary, if not quite everyday, activities of her family closed in around her she was able to put the rest of the day's events out of her mind and simply enjoy her birthday.

Her mother called out "Lunch is ready!" and there were footsteps from all over the house. Soon the whole family was seated in the kitchen. Serali ate slowly, savoring every bite. She watched with amusement as her brothers shoveled in food as if there was no tomorrow. They were both scrawny little things, but they could eat twice what she could three times as fast. Terla, the older of Serali's two sisters only picked at it. She didn't like cheesed pasta, but Serali had little sympathy, recalling a certain day some months ago when, for Terla's sake, she had been forced to eat a plate full of steamed crook-neck squash, one of her least favorite foods. As the last scraps were finished Serali sat back with a replete sigh.

The dishes were cleared away and the family moved to the sitting room at the front of the house for the best part of the day, the present giving. With giggles and whispers, her two sisters dashed upstairs, followed by the whole rest of the family. Serali sat in a chair in the room and waited for them to return. When everyone was gathered, the gift giving began, starting with the youngest and going to the oldest.

First little Carita, who was only four, stepped forward, hands behind her back. She was giggling helplessly as she pulled out a small object. Serali took it from her and examined it. It was a water-smoothed rock, deep red with black streaks. Just large enough to fit in the palm on her hand, it had a small hollow on one side.

"Thank you, Carita," she said, not certain exactly what to do with the rock.

"It's a luck stone," Carita volunteered in a piping voice. "You rub it when you're sad and it makes you feel happy."

Serali ran her thumb over the cool smoothness of it and smiled. "Thank you Carita." She slipped the rock into her pocket.

Next came Terla. She was six and had recently begun a project that involved much consultation with Mama and much secrecy. Serali had managed to catch a glimpse of the work though and she had a good idea of what her gift would be. Sure enough, she was presented with a small cloth bracelet, stitched somewhat clumsily with a dragon in yellow thread.

"To match your other one," explained Terla.

Serali glanced at the glittering golden bracelet that encircled her wrist. She seldom paid it any attention since it had been there her entire life. Her parents had told her how her birth father had put it on her wrist just minuets after she was born. To compare that exquisite work with this little bit of cloth was laughable, but Terla had put her all into that little scrap so Serali smiled and asked Terla to help her put it on.

Her brothers were next. Ohlito swaggered up and pulled a paper packet from his pocket. The swagger was instantly explained by its contents. Rock sweet!

"Where did you get the money for rock sweet, you rascal?" asked Serali, delighted.

"Hauled wood for Breck for a week and got enough for two," he grinned and pulled out a second pouch. Swaggering even more, he proceeded to dispense small portions to everyone else, saving the lion's share for himself.

Serali laughed at his antics and was still chuckling a bit when Dentol approached her. He had his hand in his pocket and when he pulled it out and opened it, Serali could see a small, coppery object laying on his palm. "Oh my. . ." she gasped involuntarily. "Dentol, I can't!"

"Oh yes you can, sis, because I just got a new one from Breck last week." He grinned then. "Ohlito is not the only one who had been hauling wood."

Dentol had a fascination with knives. He had been continually getting into trouble with them as a very young child and finally Falio gave up on keeping him away from sharp edges and decided to teach him how to use them safely. Since then, he had acquired a growing collection, receiving at least one every name-day and earning others from various people over the years. One that he had gotten several years ago lay now in his hand. It was a folding knife, with a copper handle worked in a pattern of hawks in flight. Serali had admired it openly when she had first seen it and apparently Dentol had remembered.

"It's not really that good of a blade," he explained. "Can't ever hold a point so if you use it much you'll have to sharpen it all the time, but it's good and sharp right now, and I figure you won't use it much."

"Thank you, Dentol, this is wonderful." She took the knife from him and put it in her pocket where it clicked against Carita's rock.

Lastly there was the present from her parents. With smile on their faces, they produced a leather covered object of unusual shape. Serali gasped in surprise. A lute case! She took the case form them eagerly and opened it. Inside was nestled a small, simple lute. Picking it up with trembling fingers, she cradled it gently. Placing her fingers with the utmost care, she strummed a chord. It needed tuning, but the tone was lovely, sweet and pure. With care she adjusted the strings, turning the pegs by minuscule increments until the notes rang true. She had a fascination with music possibly even greater than her brother's fascination with sharp objects. Ever since a strolling minstrel had come through town last year she had longed for a lute like his, but there was only one such instrument in town and the owner, a sweet old lady, would not part with it. Serali had managed to coax a few lessons out of her, but these only increased her longing.

"How in the world did you get it?" she asked.

Her mother smiled, "When Getrel went to the capital last month we asked him to get it for us. We knew we would have no peace from you till you had one."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" And with that, the celebration was over, and Serali dashed upstairs to try out the instrument.