"Let me handle this unless you think we're about to get murderized," Vuxten whispered.

"right" 471 grated.

Vuxten walked forward slowly, holding onto all three items tightly. 471 held tight to his shoulder, wrapped in his arctic warfare parka.

The elf just watched with amused curiosity from where he was standing at the top of the steps, hands folded at his belt buckle, completely relaxed as the snow blew around him.

Each step Vuxten took there was a tap on a drum from a different drummer. A single tap for each step.

He was shivering slightly when he reached the bottom of the steps. When he began climbing them, one step at a time, all of the drummers gave their drums a single tap at the same time.

It was only six steps, but it felt like a lifetime. The cold stabbed at his lungs, made his muzzle ache, made his teeth hurt with each inhale. The wind cut right through his ACU. His ears felt like blocks of ice and the cybernetic implants of his eyes and eyesockets began to hurt. By the third step his knee ached like dull fire.

Finally he was at the top and all the drummers tapped rapidly for a few seconds then stopped.

Vuxten moved forward again, stopping in front of the elf, who merely raised one eyebrow.

"Greetings," Vuxten said, trying not to shiver in the cold.

"Greetings to you," the elf said mildly. "You look slightly discomforted," the elf made a motion at the double doors leading into the building. "Shall we go inside, out of the wind?"

"I would like that," Vuxten said, careful to use archaic phrasing and tones.

The elf led the way, holding open the door for Vuxten.

The door shutting and cutting off the wind made him feel immediately warmer.

"I thank you for your hospitality," Vuxten said, standing in the hallway and rubbing his arms.

The building was only a year old, but still had murals on the walls, trophies in the cases from intraservice sports games, pictures on the walls of the various chains of command.

The elf nodded regally. "I am impressed by your courteous temperament," the elf said. He motioned for Vuxten to follow as he moved down the hallway.

The ice crunched under the elf's shoes and Vuxten's paws as they walked down the hallway.

"I was made to believe, by reputation and action, that you were more full of wrath than genteelness," the elf said. He gave a chuckle. "Like many things at our mother's bosom, what others may say and what is first witnessed under stressors and our own biases is far different than the reality."

"I was advised by one native to this place that wrath alone could not carry me. I was warned that should I fail, my people will be gentled, worse than gentled, by our uncaring mother," Vuxten said.

The elf paused. "What makes you think our mother doesn't care?"

"Well... uh..." Vuxten tried.

The elf chuckled. "Did she not provide great bounty? Wondrous vistas even the most primitive can find and appreciate? Did she not cradle each of you before gathering you to her bosom?" the elf smiled. "Her many unruly children do not like her hands upon them, guiding them, inflicting her will upon them, so she has decided that those who wish to be treated as adults shall have the freedom, and the restrictions and hazards, of being an adult."

The elf opened the door to one of the offices. "We are as much a part of her as she is of us," the elf said. "But she is young, and it is the nature of the young to be whimsical, cruel, and at times, unthinking. She is called malevolent and cruel, but instead, she is aloof and watches."

Vuxten went into the office and saw it was Colonel Brett's office.

"She is not like us. She is vast, different, not alive as we know it because we cannot fathom her," the elf said. It moved in and leaned against the edge of Brett's desk.

"Why tell me all this? While I appreciate the knowledge and crave, no, hunger for more, surely this was not all about discussing the nature of the universe with me," Vuxten said. He moved over to the pot of caff and checked it.

Frozen.

"Let me take care of that, young one," the elf said. He gave a motion and a hot cup of steaming caff appeared.

Vuxten wasn't surprised, when he picked it up and sipped at it, that it was his favorite type mixed the way he liked it.

"I thank you for this consideration," Vuxten said carefully. He was familiar with elves, both from the assault on the mountain complex and working with the elves afterwards.

The elf nodded, waiting patiently for Vuxten to have a few more sips. He felt much warmer after only a few sips, breathing a sigh of relief that plumed out in front of him.

"Why me?" he asked.

"Asked with such humility and modesty," the elf smiled. He reached out and tapped one finger on the top of the desk, sending little chips of frost skittering across the frozen surface. "What those of us outside of space and time see and what you see are much different," the elf looked up. "You feel the fear, the anxiety, the mouth drying terror. See the repercussions, smell the dead and dying."

He gave an odd twitch of his wrist that Vuxten knew elves used to signify amusement. "We, outside of it al, see it much differently."

He scraped his nail in a slow, swirling pattern on the desk.

Vuxten reached into his pocket and pulled out the pink golf ball.

For a second he could smell the inside of the massive autonomous mining machine, roast turkey, and almost hear Casey telling the joke.

He rocked it back and forth in his hand as the elf began to speak. It sparkled slightly and Vuxten could feel the tingle of subtle phasic work.

"We test heroes. Those who know it or not. Since time immemorial we have tested heroes," the elf said softly. "Before the Lanaktallan, before the Mantid, before the Atrekna even knew of this universe, we tested heroes."

"Who made you?" Vuxten asked softly, tossing up the golf ball, giving it a little spin so that it sparkled, and catching it again.

The elf shrugged. "It does not matter. Eventually, they failed their own test and vanished," he gave a soft, wry chuckle. "The Law of Unintended Consequences AKA the Consequences of My Own Actions AKA Who would have thought my fighting dog would attack me?"

Vuxten nodded. He'd seen it happen more than a few times, sometimes with lethal results. Vuxten put the golf ball down on the table he leaned against, put his open palm on it, and slowly rolled it back and forth.

The elf kept moving his finger in the frost as he kept talking. "Eventually, we encountered the Terrans. They were primitive. Advancing too rapidly, too quickly, rude in form, thought, and manners," the elf looked up and gave a wide smile. "They passed the tests. Each time, they passed, the flourished, and they did something we did not expect."

Vuxten just nodded, still rolling the golf ball, feeling it tingle under his hand as the magic inside of it went about its delicate work.

"Instead of only a few knowing of the tests, they traveled and spoke of our tests as if they were wonders, as if they were something to look forward to," the elf said. His voice filled with wonder. "They celebrated our tests, added it to their own myriad of celebrations."

"Humans love their celebrations, even love celebrating others traditional celebrations," Vuxten nodded.

The elf flushed slightly.

"We found ourselves crafting tests. Not just ones that determined if the species we were testing would endure or fade away, but ones to test individuals, to watch them rise to the challenge," the elf laughed. "Those were heady days. The Terrans, they were so willing to embrace our challenges that they even devised challenges for us to pose to them. They wrote tales, sung songs, made movies and serialized shows about the challenges."

"I've seen some of them," Vuxten said as he rolled the ball in a circle on the frozen tabletop.

"But as we tested them, challenged them, they changed us," the elf patted his own leg even as he kept scraping at the desk. "We took on new forms, we developed new powers, and much much more."

The elf shook his head. "We became both more and less than we had been before encountering that primitive species."

"Do you resent it?" Vuxten asked.

The elf shook his head. "Nay. In her infinite wisdom and endless amusement, she had tested us as we tested others. Whether we failed or we succeeded, it is not for one such as I to question," he smiled, a bright thing. "We have changed, though. We are able to craft much more tests than sitting a being down and screaming at them to write poetry or perform a play," his smile became wider. "Our tests became more complex, more subtle, more interactive, over time."

Vuxten nodded. He could feel the phasic power in the pink golf ball was fading. He lifted it from the table and put it in his pocket, pulling out the snow globe.

"Do you mind?" He asked, winding the snow globe and tilting his muzzle toward the empty caff cup.

"Not at all," the elf smiled.

Vuxten set the snow globe down, picking up the warm cup and blowing on it. "Thank you, elder one."

"Of course," the elf said. The elf cocked his head, listening to the soft song of the broodcarriers. "For that alone, we were tempted to exclude the broodmommies from any testing results, but, well, we are all constrained in one way or another."

"Every Telkan has his favorite song," Vuxten said. "Mine was always There is always someone who loves you that sometimes I still think about, like when I was in the hospital."

The elf nodded. "The loss of your friend Casey wounded you deeply. Some wondered if you still had the strength to carry on through these tests."

Vuxten didn't protest, he just nodded.

"But I, and those like me, felt that now was the perfect time to test your people through you. Testing at optimal says nothing, but testing when stress factors are at their maximum tells you more about the subject than any carefully designed lab test under lab conditions," the elf smiled.

The elf stopped carving in the ice on the top of the desk and folded his hands at his belt. "Surely you are wracking your brain to try to figure out a way to defeat me," he said.

Vuxten looked at the snow globe, around Colonel Brett's office, then out the windows at the frozen landscape before looking at the elf.

"Never give up," Vuxten said.

The elf nodded, his smile getting wide.

"But know when to quit," Vuxten said.

The elf went still.

"Or, to put it in the words of the Terran war philosopher and chef Sunny Zoo 'to win without fighting is best'," Vuxten said. He looked the elf in the eyes. "I have fought next to elves. I know better than to try to fight an elven warrior, especially an elder or ancient one, on their own home field, where they have all the advantages."

The elf opened his mouth to speak.

"But, most of all, you are right," Vuxten said. He tapped the snow globe. "My people had been riven, trampled, beaten down. We are just now learning to stand on our feet. We need legends of our own, separate from the Terrans. We need our own tests," he tapped his own chest. "And our own people to go through them."

Vuxten touched the snow globe again.

"No matter what transpires here, elf lord," Vuxten said. He paused for just a second, long enough for the elf to open his mouth to speak, before speaking again. "Promise me that you will test my people as you tested the Terrans. In little ways. In podling fantasies and broodcarrier dreams. That you show them the greatness that exists in our small people."

The elf stared for a long moment, then slowly nodded.

The snow globe wound down and went silent.

"A bargain sealed and done," the elf said. "Now comes your final test, Warfather."

Vuxten picked up the snow globe and put it in his pocket.

All that remained was the slim wrapped package.

He pulled the small package out and looked at it.

There was a tag, written in his own script.

"To Brennie; From Vux"

He opened the box, peering inside, then closed it, nodding to himself.

"Are you ready?" the elf lord asked.

Vuxten nodded. "I am, oh wise one."

The elf moved forward, to the door, and waved at Vuxten. "Follow."

Vuxten followed the elf into his own office, unsurprised that the elf could open the door that had been completely frozen over.

Colonel Brett was still frozen in place, one hand against his datalink, one bladearm covering his face.

Vuxten walked around and sat on his frozen chair behind his desk as the elf sat near Colonel Brett.

"Your final test is at hand," the elf said.

"I understand," Vuxten said.

The elf looked at 471. "Even in your silence, you have, as you always have, supported your friend and companion, Inertia."

"thank. you." 471 grated out.

"It is time," the elf said, standing up. He walked up to the desk. "The package. Give it to me."

Vuxten thought about it. He nodded and pushed it across the desk to the elf, who picked it up.

"I entrust this to thee, ancient one," Vuxten said, returning to the archaic phrasing.

The elf picked it up and held it tight. He looked at Vuxten.

And vanished.

Vuxten sat silent for a long second.

"did win?" 471 said.

"I think so, buddy," Vuxten said.

The ice suddenly melted, steaming away.

Vuxten found himself, dripping wet, standing in the Day Room.

Everyone turned and stared at him.

The Colonel moved forward.

"There you are, Major. I was wondering if you were lollygagging and we had to wait for the next commercial break for you to get back," the big Treana'ad said.

"I had to take the long way," Vuxten said.

The Colonel laughed and moved to the door, waving at Vuxten to follow him.

Vuxten ignored everyone staring at him, the Tri-Vee in the middle of the Day Room, which was playing a BobCo commercial, completely forgotten.

When they got into Vuxten's office, Vuxten moved over to one of the shelves, taking out the snow globe and standing on his tiptoes to put it on the shelf. Vuxten paused a moment to let 471 jump down onto his own desk. 471 yawned and stretched, sitting on the small chair on the top of his desk. Vuxten picked up a small caff cup that had the 1st Telkan Marine Division logo on it, set it on a shelf, and put the pink golf ball in it so that the majority of the sphere was outside the rim of the cup.

"Much better, Major," the Colonel said, sitting down. "A splash of holiday cheer and a memento."

Vuxten just nodded as he sat down. He was sore all over.

"Did you understand the last test?" the Colonel asked.

Vuxten shook his head. "Let me guess, you aren't going to tell me, because that would spoil it."

The Colonel laughed. "No, Major," he looked intently at Vuxten. "It was the simplest one. The one involving the coin that is easy to spend, easy to lose, but difficult to gain," he said.

"The test, Major, was one of trust."

-----

Brentili'ik walked next to the bomb squad technician back into her bedroom. The officers were clearing out. Two pushed her bed back where it belonged.

"It's your husband's hand writing. We've verified there are no biologicals, nanites, chemicals, or explosives attached to it. We're unsure of the metal, but we are as positive as we can be that it's safe. We're considering taking it in to the lab and going over it again," one of her agents from the Telkan Intelligence Service said.

Brentili'ik moved up and looked at the slightly rumpled box.

She had the feeling of being watched as she slowly reached out and lifted the top off of the box.

Inside was a thin necklace chain of glittering silvery metal that gleamed with red and green and gold highlights as the light caught it and made it shimmer. The pendant that hung from it was of a gem she recognized.

Elven star diamond.

Carved inside to look like a cold weather bundled up podling on ice skates made entirely of frost.

"Thank you," she said. "You're excused."

She ignored the protests, lifting it up and putting it around her neck.

She touched the pendant, staring out the window.

I love you too.