The Special Friend

      In a far off land, in a far off time; there lived a young girl of insurmountable power. This power, as powers so often are, was latent. The potential was there, dormant and waiting for a spark to bring it forth. So for all intents and purposes, at least as far as the townsfolk were concerned, this was a wholly unremarkable little girl. Not too pretty but far from ugly, not too smart but by no means dimwitted, average and unassuming in every way.
      The girl, who's name was Elsa, had a small dog who was her entire life. The dog, who's name was Tak, also had a very special friend. This friend had to be kept secret from Elsa because he was a being who's existence was very rarely accepted by most rational people.
      We use rational in a very tenuous manner here. For if these so called rational people were to see Tak's friend, they would deny his existence in blatant contradiction to their own observations. They would attempt to explain away his existence and hope that no one noticed how little sense the explanations made. Their downfall is their utter reliance on the faith of skepticism; a faith based entirely on disproving our observations.
      This topic was discussed at length in the five hundred and tenth Hrafn council at Nilenrood and the full proceedings are available for public viewing at the Hall of Records. But our story is not concerned with the idle chatter of statesmen; let it suffice to say that the decision had been reached not to reveal the identities of observable yet unaccepted beings to those men of reason.
      Tak's friend was one of these beings, as was Tak. For Tak, as you may have already guessed, was no ordinary dog. He was what one might refer to as a magical dog. He would never refer to himself in such a manner, but convention places anything outside of the skeptics faith into the category of magical. They equate the term magical with fanciful and, ultimately, impossible. Magic handlers work a lifetime to hone their art and the highly esteemed title of magical is laughed at in the world of the skeptics.
      Now Tak was no harnesser of magic, nor was he someone to be laughed at. His adorable exterior was shell to a fierce devotion and loyalty, both to his mistress and to his task.
      For Tak had been trusted, chosen by the King himself, to guard and guide the girl, Elsa. As we all know, a powerful child rarely arises without some form of prophecy. Luckily for everyone concerned, the prophecy surrounding Elsa had been rather straightforward and posed little difficulty for the royal advisors.
      So Tak had been assigned to the girl, an obvious honor but also a slight burden. Tak had no desire to become a lapdog to a spoiled girl in a land of skepticism. A land where one step out of line could call his entire existence into question. He came from a good family and was well respected in the realm of magic. He was treated as one would treat a dog, but after all, he was a dog. He had no aspirations to be anything but a dog—he scoffed at the fringe groups of rebels, walking on their hindfeet and wearing clothing—but people in the land of skepticism did not always treat dogs as they should be treated.
      So it was with barely repressed trepidation that Tak took his post as Elsa's guardian and constant companion. I had been arranged for one of the King's guards, disguised as a merchant, to bring a basket of puppies to the weekly market in the town where Elsa's family resided. As expected, Elsa's father, a truly kindhearted man, decided to bring his newborn daughter a puppy. And with that, Tak began his life with Elsa.
      It was stated earlier that Elsa was an altogether unremarkable girl. This was a slight exaggeration for there was one area in which Elsa shone; her heart. Even as a baby, Elsa was kind, sweet, quick to love, slow to anger, and always ready to forgive. The wide eyed and curious baby took no time in capturing Tak's heart. He was constantly at her side; Tak would bring her whatever she needed, guide her away from trouble, and it was even with Tak's assistance that baby Elsa learned to walk.
       Elsa's parents quickly discovered that Tak was more reliable and vigilant than any nanny and he was trusted implicitly by them. Neither of them had owned dogs before so they didn't notice the strange lack of necessity for any obedience training. It was accepted that Tak was simply a remarkably clever beast. Elsa's father would often boast of his great judge of canine character, seemingly forgetting that it was the puppy merchant who had selected Tak from the basket. Her mother would often gaze at Tak for a moment as he trotted off to do whatever complex task she had commanded of him. She would shake her head and mutter that it was almost as if he understood every word they spoke to him. But Tak's proudest moment came when Elsa managed to reclaim his name for him.
      Elsa's father had dubbed him Rover when he was first introduced to the family. He was a kindhearted man, but kindhearted does not always mean clever. Within a week, baby Elsa was calling him Tak, a phenomenon written off by her parents as mere baby talk. Elsa was persistent, though; every time she needed Tak, she would yell his name; she would point at him, look up at her parents, giggle, and say, "Tak". Eventually, it was accepted that Rover had been redubbed as Tak, a silly baby noise. It did seem to her parents that the dog was more responsive to his new name but the sentience of dogs seemed as if it would be deemed unreasonable so they quickly put it out of their minds. Tak never discovered how Elsa had managed to attach him to his actual name but he was eternally grateful. The royal advisors were overjoyed by the report and hailed it as an incredibly good omen.  

A Growing Concern

      As soon as Elsa began to speak, Tak became her confidant. She was constantly talking to him as other girls might do with human friends. There were not many children her own age and the boys and girls at the school seemed dull and boring when compared to Tak. She was not antisocial; she got along at school just fine, it was just that she preferred the company of her ever-present friend.

      Tak would walk her to school every day—her parents had no concept of canine flight risk—go about his official duties while she was in school, and be waiting to walk her home when class was dismissed. She never wondered or worried about what Tak went about while she was in school, she was convinced that he was more intelligent and competent than most people she knew.

       And Tak was ever mindful of Elsa, even when going about his official duties; he had carefully selected a grove close to the school to meet his friend. In one instance, a bully much older than Elsa had started to push her around in the schoolyard. Tak was there in an instant, dragging the overgrown brute off of his Elsa. The boy's parents had started to raise a fuss but quickly dropped the matter when the boy persisted that the dog had spoken to him, warning him that the girl was under his protection. His further claim, that a little man had been in a tree, laughing at him, was even more concerning. The family had attempted to cover it up, but the rumors spread. They had professed that he was a wholly reasonable boy, momentarily confused by the trauma of the vicious attack by Tak, but their pleas were ignored. The boy was relocated to a state run school for the unreasonable and the scandalized family soon moved away. The boy was a notorious bully an everyone agreed that Tak was a hero--he was even allowed scraps from the table for a week—but the reminder of how unreasonable thoughts can sneak into even the most wholesome town hung like a shadow for months after the incident.

       The fight with the bully and the resulting chaos had launched Elsa's parents into a new campaign to push Elsa into making new friends, human friends. She was told that Tak was the best dog friend a girl could have but it wasn't healthy for her to spend all of her time with a dog. And more seriously, her constant chatter to Tak was unsightly, especially after what had happened to the boy--his name had long since ceased to be spoken.

      And so, the socialization of Elsa had begun. More tea parties were thrown at Elsa's house, with invitations specifically urging the guests to bring their children. Play dates were not so casually arranged by her father with his customers at the mill. Her mother began bringing her to ladies' meetings, sparking a trend amongst the other women who began bringing their daughters, and eventually creating the Junior Ladies' League. Her parents became overly active in school events, befriending the other parents and adding to the seemingly unending barrage of arranged friendships.

      Now this posed several problems for Elsa, several problems on several different levels. A girl used to the companionship of an uncannily amiable, loyal, and intelligent dog was completely overwhelmed by the parade of strange children. She was not overly gifted in natural intellect but spending so much time with Tak—who was exceptionally intelligent amongst both humans and magical beasts—had placed her miles ahead of other children her age, both mentally and emotionally. The area in which she was lacking was the realm of social skills.

      She was not hopeless or even noticeably unskilled in the art of socialization as many children are--children with human friends, I might add. She had perfect manners, impressing even the most posh members of the ladies' council. She was liked by her schoolmates, welcome in the schoolyard games, and selflessly helpful in the classroom. Before her parents' campaign, she had occasionally visited classmates' houses to help with homework or tutor a study group--always with Tak waiting, unobtrusive yet aware, outside of the house.

      No, her problem was not finding friends, it was finding the desire for friends. Obviously, Tak was far superior to any human friend she would find in the town but she was a kind and loving soul, so that didn't hold her back. She simply found their company boring, no matter how hard she tried to enjoy herself. She would lose touch unless they reached out to her or her parents set up a play date. It was not out of malice, she genuinely liked them as people, it was pure apathy.

      The other children didn't give Elsa much inspiration to keep in touch, though. They would not even consider playing any of the games that she and Tak had made up, instead insisting that she join in on their state-standard games; designed to promote strong morals and healthy rationality. Elsa, being so good natured, went along with these games without complaint; perfectly feigning enjoyment. The real issue was the other children's refusal to accept Tak as a playmate.

      The most vocal members of the playgroups—leader was an unreasonable and archaic term, best avoided—informed Elsa that Tak did not belong in a group of children. Their fathers had hunting dogs who were caged when not hunting; their mothers had small decorative dogs, worn like jewelry and confined to the sitting room; even the farmers on the outskirts of town had herding dogs, guiding sheep and cattle; but no one had a friend dog, it simply wasn't done.

      Elsa didn't know how to respond to this, she had no experience arguing with people and had rarely ever been angry. Tak continued to accompany her, on this she would not compromise, but as time progressed, Tak was spending more and more time keeping watch while remaining out of sight. Elsa had tried joking with the others, claiming that Tak was her herding dog but the vocal elite merely scoffed at her, professing that pretending to be a sheep was childish and irrational. A few children had tried to play with Tak before or after the games, having never encountered a friend dog, but mob mentality soon forced them to abandon these pursuits or face ostracization from the group. 

      Eventually, Tak would remain completely hidden while Elsa played with the other children. A few of them may have suspected his presence but without seeing or hearing him, they had no grounds to challenge Elsa. Darting eyes and investigations of broken sticks, however, made it clear to Elsa that Tak was to remain an unwelcome presence amongst her peers. She took to sneaking out into the forest to play with Tak. Sometimes, they would venture out at night and occasionally, she would even feign injury or illness in order to leave the playgroup early and sneak away with Tak.

      Despite how strenuous these difficulties might sound, they were not the worst of Elsa's problems. Her biggest hurdle to clear during the friendship campaign was her own mind; specifically, how her mind perceived Tak. As a child, she imagined that Tak could understand her every word, she somehow sensed that he was more than just an ordinary dog.

      The state had decreed that these illogical fantasies were acceptable, though not desired, in children. The proper course in dealing with this behavior was to gently discourage these flights of fancy and establish a firm base in rationality at an early age; punishment should not be introduced unless the thoughts persist beyond the age of six. Elsa's problem was that she was now twelve and the thoughts continued to persist.

      She never spoke of these thoughts to anyone but Tak, she was terrified of what the consequences might be. And she tried her best to put an end to them. But she couldn't explain away what she had observed. Tak would respond to her slightest move, he would show signs of comprehension when she spoke to him. She would mention a desire to investigate a new path through the forest one day, only to find Tak veering towards it the next day, with no sign from her. She would ask him his opinion on what outfit to wear and even the most skeptical person would be forced to admit that Tak would make clear and comprehensible suggestions. Once she could have sworn she heard him laugh while doing her homework and turned to witness what seemed to be him reading over her shoulder. When she answered homework problems incorrectly, he would carelessly walk on the pages with wrong answers, allowing her to catch her mistakes while recopying them.

      She began to test him, hoping to reaffirm her beliefs. But it almost appeared as if Tak was aware of her tests and willfully failing them. She couldn't imagine why Tak would do this. But instead of feeling angry or betrayed, she became more resolute that Tak was more than he seemed.

      Elsa's one sided and constant conversations with Tak had continued, although not so publicly anymore. In addition to her usual chatter, she began to confide in him that she knew he was more than just a regular terrier. She would tell him that she was absolutely certain that he understood every word she spoke ti him. And she would beg him to respond, or at least to give her some sign that she was right about him. Amidst sincere promises to never reveal his secret, she would shout for him to watch out for the snake or some other silly nonsense, hoping to gauge his reaction. Whenever she did this, he would trot up to her, tongue out and face carefully composed in an uncharacteristically witless manner; he would then usually lick her hand and bark. During her intervention talks, he would wander off, chasing a rabbit or something else that normal dogs do but Tak had never before done.  

Tak

      Tak was heartbroken, he couldn't stand to see Elsa in such distress. He longed to admit everything to her; to take her through the veil and present her to the King, his mistress, his friend, his Elsa.

      Being rejected by her classmates had been a non-issue for him; he knew it was inevitable and he was honestly surprised that it had taken so long. His handling of the situation with the bully had been an obvious catalyst but there was no way he would have been able to stand by and watch that swine beat on her. At least the state hadn't taken too great of an interest in it; that would have been the last thing he needed. Robin had agreed that everything had been handled properly, apparently the King had even approved. But what had Robin been thinking? Sitting in the tree and laughing, Tak was sure that that little detail had not been present in Robin's report to the King.
      That was what he needed, a talk with Robin. He needed to talk to someone and despite his little pranks, Tak couldn't help but like Robin.
      After dropping Elsa off at school, and painfully dodging her attempts to de-cloak him, Tak made his way to the forest. He and Robin had moved their rendezvous to a clearing deeper in the forest after the incident with the bully. Robin had placed some sort of Wood-Sprite alarm system around the school that Tak didn't even want to understand.
      Robin appeared to be in a very deep conversation with a daffodil when Tak entered the clearing.
      "It must be nice being able to speak to your wards." Tak was pleased to see Robin jump a little before regaining his composure,
      "I have just been listening to the most disturbing report." The small man danced over to Tak, his coloring ever so slightly shifting to reflect his surroundings, "Apparently, a great beast of diminutive morphology has been making water on these poor flowers." Tak laughed, Robin's humor was just what he needed to break his mood. But before he could continue the banter, Robin looked at his face, sighed, and became serious. "Still having lady problems, pup?"
      "Don't call me pup, Puck."
      "Don't call me Puck, pup."
      "You're a faerie, I'll call you what I want."
      "I am a Wood-Sprite, no, I am the Wood-Sprite. And you, my friend, are a dog."
      "I'm Elsa's dog."
      "And I am the link across the veil for both of you. So let's try this again; still having lady problems, oh mighty lapdog to the savior of all that is mythically pristine?" Tak's smile at the exchange quickly vanished. He sighed,
      "It's just so hard, it's driving her mad; knowing the truth but being forced to second guess herself and denying her intuition."
      "You can't tell her." Tak glared at Robin,
      "Obviously, I can't tell her. But it's becoming more difficult. She's much smarter than we anticipated; she has started to test me. And the dimwitted dog approach is not working; if anything, it's simply reaffirming her suspicions."
      "Well perhaps if you weren't so eager so show off your dazzling intellect, we might not be in this mess. Hoping you're shining wit might fall within a regal glance..." Robin trailed off. He and Tak both knew that this wasn't true. "I'm sorry, Tak, I know you needed your wits to perform your task. This was inevitable; we all just hoped she would be ready before it happened."
      "It's true," Tak sighed again, almost a whimper, "if only she was able to lie, we could keep her safe and sane until the time comes." Robin shook his head,
      "Without her innocence, her purity, she wouldn't be who she is. You know that, Tak." Tak nodded and began to respond, but before he could open his mouth, there was a crashing in the bushes followed by a voice, a young girl's voice,
      "I knew it!!!"  

Elsa

      Elsa was nervous, she had never so flagrantly disobeyed the rules like this before. The schoolmaster didn't put up any fuss when she asked to be excused. She had always been a perfect student and he had no reason to suspect her of lying. No, it wasn't a lie, she repeated the justification to herself; it was true, she had been feeling miserable lately, and when she had seen Tak walking into the forest through the window, she knew that it was absolutely imperative that she leave.

      The path Tak had taken was unfamiliar to Elsa but she knew his tracks well enough to follow him without too much difficulty. The path was strange, unlike any of the others in the forest; the trees seemed to lean in on all sides of her and she had the strange feeling that they were whispering to each other, whispering about her.

      Where did these ridiculous ideas come from? Her parents had been lenient in comparison to the rest of the townsfolk, but they never encouraged such reckless thoughts. It had to be something to do with Tak; all the more reason to continue along the path, perhaps she would finally find some answers.

      She slowed down when she heard voices. A break in the bushes allowed her to see into a clearing. There he was, Tak, sitting in the middle of the clearing, and someone was talking to him. She couldn't fully see the man but something was off about him, and where was the second voice coming from? There was no one else visible. And then it happened; she didn't know why she was so surprised, she had been expecting this for her entire life. But it was still a shock, Tak was speaking! She horizontally fell through the bushes, shouting incomprehensibly the entire time.

An Unexpected Guest

      "Puck! I thought you had your tree network watching her!" Tak's sweet demeanor gave way to a snarling beast as he glared at Robin. The Wood-Sprite took a step back, visibly shaken.
      "I told you not to use that name!" Tak took a deep breath, attempting to calm himself,
      "Robin, this is no time to squabble about titles. Elsa is here and the gods only know how long she has been listening. But more importantly, she slipped past your perimeter unnoticed; what else might find its way in?"
      "She was unreported, not unnoticed." Puck said, still rather defensive. When Tak continued to stare at him, unblinking, he decided to explain further. "The network was set up to guard her against danger, not monitor her. Trees don't think in the same ways that you do; they noticed her movements, they even discussed it, but they never thought to report it to me because she was in no immediate danger."
      Elsa had been standing in place the entire time, staring at Tak, in obvious shock. She started stumbling in his direction, breaking into a frantic run. As she hobbled towards him, she began speaking rapidly; words tumbling out of her mouth and over each other,
      "I wasn't here long, I couldn't hear anything. How can trees watch me? What else would want to come through the perimeter? Why am I in dange--" She stopped short, noticing Robin for the first time. She dove next to Tak, hugging him tightly about the neck, "Tak, what is that thing? I don't understand what's happening to me. But I knew it! I knew you were different, I knew you could understand me. Why did you lie to me? Why didn't you tell me? Oh, Tak, I'm scared."
      "I know, my dear, and I am so sorry. But I'm here now, I'll always be here for you."
      After a few minutes of Elsa desperately attempting to soak up all of Tak's conversational ability, Robin walked up to them and cleared his throat, "It seems as if introductions and possible explanations may be in order while we decide how to proceed from here." Elsa started and clutched Tak in an even tighter embrace,
      "What is that thing?" She cried, hiding her face in the little dog's fur, "What does it want?"
      "This being," Tak began to respond, "is one of my oldest and most trusted friends. He is the only reason I was able to take care of you for all of these years. Robin is the life line for both of us; if you trust me, you inherently trust him as well." Elsa's expression went from self-preservation to self-reproachment as she rose to her feet, brushed the wrinkles from her dress, and performed a perfect curtsy in front of Robin,
      "My dear sir, you must think me wholly without manners. I beg your forgiveness for my thoughtless and crass words; everything is just coming as quite a shock to me." Robin, already beaming from Tak's words, let into a small dance, ending in an elaborate bow.
      "Think nothing of it, ma cher, you are truly handling this all with remarkable composure." He raised her proffered hand to his lips and smiled, "And may I just add, it is simply incredible to be meeting you in person." The odd little sprite's exuberance was contagious, and he and Elsa were soon chatting, arm in arm, as old friends.

The Niceties of Morality

      After much deliberation, bickering, and woefully insufficient explanations, it was decided that Elsa would meet with Tak and Robin on a daily basis.
      Elsa and Tak walked in relative silence after parting with Robin. Elsa noticed Tak watching her with a concerned look,
      "What's wrong, my dear? You look as if you could just burst with worry." Tak looked at her for a long time, mentally composing and rejecting responses until he eventually stopped along the edge of the path.
      "Elsa, my love, you know that you are very important. No, don't start with girlish modesty; this is not your doing, it was in play long before your birth." Elsa blushed and tutted at this. "I wish I could properly explain why, but it is a terribly long story and our top priority at the moment is ensuring your safety. And that's where the problem lies. That which makes you so important also makes you sweet and kindhearted. You never argued with the other children because you were unable to; there is not a pugnacious bone in your body. And you also lack the ability to lie." Elsa hung her head and her face turned red with guilt,
      "But Tak, I can lie, I just lied to the headmaster today. Oh, I must not be the one you want; please tell me you don't have to leave me now." She sniffed, moments away from breaking into a sob. Tak raised his dog equivalent to eyebrows,
      "Think, Elsa. What exactly did you say to the headmaster?" She scrunched up her face in concentration, the momentary distraction halting the coming tears.
      "I saw you going into the forest, and I just knew that I had to follow. I tried not to, I really did, but I couldn't pay attention, I couldn't even concentrate on what I was doing. Eventually, I approached the headmaster and told him that I felt horrible. He asked me if I felt I needed to leave and I said yes."
      "But you did feel the need to leave." Elsa blinked, surprised by the interruption. "And you had been feeling awful for quite some time."
      "It's no good, Tak," Elsa exclaimed, seeing what he was getting at, "I tried to tell myself that it wasn't really lying. But it was still dishonest and that's just as bad as lying." Tak seemed to grow more excited as she grew even more morose.
      "But don't you see, my dear? It wasn't lying, it was misdirection. The important fact is your motivation; why did you decide to deceive the headmaster?" Elsa's face returned to its scrunched up position of concentration.
      "I suppose I just didn't want to explain the entire situation to him."
      "Come now, child, you're not thinking." Tak interjected. "Why didn't you want to explain things to him?" Elsa's face seemed to scrunch beyond the bounds of elasticity,
      "Well I remember worrying that the whole situation seemed so fanciful and dangerous. I was a little worried that he would report me, but then I started thinking about how much trouble he might get into by simply listening to me."
      "Exactly!" Tak erupted, "You're intentions were as pure as they come. You deceived him in order to protect him. This is exactly what needs to happen!"
      "Oh, Tak, my darling; I've become confused again."
      "Don't worry, little one, I'll help you. You are now privy to a very dangerous secret; Robin and I can protect you, but you are the only one who we can protect. You must keep this secret from everyone, for their own safety. You won't be able to lie but you must protect them through misdirection and omission. Do you think you can do that? Robin and I will help you as much as we can." Elsa sniffed, put on a brave face, and nodded.

The Companions

      And so Elsa's new life had begun. She would breakfast with her parents—who were incredibly relieved at both her newfound vigor and the cessation of her chatter to Tak—, go off to school, and briefly play with her friends. Walking home was what she looked forward to every day. As soon as they were alone on the path, Elsa and Tak would run and play. They had agreed never to speak to each other outside of the clearing but they didn't need speech for their games. After tiring themselves out, they would meet Robin in the clearing.
      These were wonderful days, she had never felt so alive. She was even able to bond with some of the other schoolchildren. Four of the others—those who had initially been curious about Tak—took to walking home with Elsa and Tak. Elsa's revelation in regards to Tak and Robin had left her palpably more confident. She seemed to radiate an air of effortless self-direction towards which her newfound friends eagerly flocked.
      "You're a natural leader," Robin would mock her jovially, "those four would follow you through the veil itself if you asked it of them."
      "Robin does have a point," the ever serious Tak would add, "you have the ability to bend others to your will, you must be very careful never to employ it without careful thought."
      Sober thoughts aside, the newly formed companions grew ever closer. Inevitably, they abandoned the stifling playtime with the rest of the schoolchildren. Gill and Brin, twins with seemingly unending energy, would run through the trails with Tak, playing hide and seem or tag. Lucas would sit under a tree and strum his lute as Elsa and Dor would discuss subjects never taught in school.
      Elsa and Dors' debates would range through uncountable subjects in mere minutes. An attempt to uncover the mathematical theorem behind The Peoples' Electoral Consensus would lead to the incredibly dangerous subject of the ethics of The Grand Enlightenment.
      "They do teach us that the nobles exploited the people but it is so hard to understand when all of our history begins with The Great Enlightenment." Remarked Dor, a well behaved and mindful girl who's growing intellect was just beginning to cause problems in a school where mediocrity was the set goal.
      All five of them—even Gill and Brin when you held them still for a moment—displayed troubling intellectual prowess. Elsa's drastic change from a mediocre girl into a beautiful genius was the subject of many discussions between Tak and Robin.
      "They also teach us that geography ends at the river;" exploded the beautiful little genius, "according to them, the ground below our feet doesn't even exist!" A warning glance from Tak, who had emerged from the forest with the twins, silenced her outburst.
      "I'm an evil nobleman, devouring logic and sowing the seeds of fancy throughout the land!" Gill shouted to Brin, "You and Tak have to silence my lies and restore order to The People!" And with that, he was gone. Brin, not to be out-sprinted by her brother, quickly gave chase. With one final warning glance in Elsa's direction, Tak followed the twins into the forest.
      "You know, my family does still have a few history books predating the revolution." Lucas remarked as he set his lute aside and stretched languidly. "My family, being nobles, obviously opposed the revolution, but it does make for some interesting reading."
      This was a common occurrence in their discussions; Lucas would interject during a heated moment, always with a neutrally worded observation from a previously overlooked vantage point. His opinion was always highly valued amongst the group; after all, it was from his family library that they gained their illicit extra-curricular material. His family was of old and noble blood. Whispers stated that every male member of the family above the age of twelve had been put to death, their wealth had been reallocated, and they had been banished to the very edge of The State.
      His references to his noble blood were never resented by his friends. He always treated them with the utmost respect, not once lording over them.
      "Oh, you must bring them one of these days!" Elsa swooned, knowing she would catch grief from Tak and Robin but lost in her own excitement.
      "As you wish." Lucas smiled at her. He could refuse her nothing, for he was madly in love with her. He never let it show; not fully understanding what passed between couples in love, he had a vague notion that it possessed the capability to disrupt a group's harmony. Every melody played on his lute was of his own composition, composed for Elsa. Lyrics in his head silently wooed her as he played. Even the phrase, "as you wish", was from a love story—long banned by The State—that his mother had read to him as a young boy. He only said it to Elsa, safe in the knowledge that she would have never heard it.
      And thus life progressed for the five companions; nothing could disrupt their carefree adventures...until the man from The Peoples' Council arrived.

Mr. Toohey

      It began on a Saturday. Elsa came home to find her parents in an uncharacteristically somber mood. Her father calmly asked her to join himself and her mother in the sitting room. He was not cross and he was not quite sad; if Elsa had to describe his mood, she would have said that he looked resigned. But that was just silly; this was her father, ever jolly and loved by all.
      There was a stranger sitting by the fire when Elsa entered. He did not rise, he did not smile, he did not even incline his head in greeting; he merely leveled a challenging gaze in her direction. What disturbed Elsa more than the man's crassitudes was the fact that he was sitting in her father's chair.
      The tall, wingback, paisley chair was her father's one indulgence, his only outward sign of pride. He doted on that chair, carefully arranging it in perfect relation to the fire. When Elsa was younger, she would curl up in his lap as he sat in the chair, Tak at his feet, reading to her. To see the rude man sitting in her father's chair, displaying such biting arrogance was nearly unbearable for her. She returned his challenging gaze with the iciest stare her sweet eyes could muster.
      "Elsa, this is Mr. Toohey, he has been sent by The Peoples' Council to meet with you." Her father said humbly as he took a seat beside her mother on the sofa.
      The man stared at her for another moment before breaking the silence, "Come here, girl, let me take a look at you." Elsa walked stiffly across the sitting room, longing to disobey but fearful of what retributions would be taken out on her family if she did. Mr. Toohey looked her up and down with a lecherous eye. "You're far too pretty for a girl your age. Does it cause problems amongst your schoolmates?"
      "Problems, sir?" Elsa replied through clenched teeth.
      "With the other girls. Do they not resent your obscene beauty?" Elsa was so surprised by this that she momentarily dropped her icy guard,
      "No, sir, I've never been called beautiful before. I've always considered myself rather ordinary. My friend, Dor, is far prettier than I." Mr. Toohey frowned at her,
      "So you have your own group of beautiful friends, have you?" Does that not strike you as elitist?" Elsa's shock continued, threatening to erupt into outrage.
      "Never, sir; our group is based upon similar interests and friendship, not ascetics."
      "So you admit to having a private club, excluding the other children." Before Elsa could protest, he continued, ignoring her open mouth, "Tell me, girl, do the other members of your club speak in the same pretentious manner?"
      "Pretentious manner?" Elsa squeaked in outrage.
      "Your vocabulary and sentence structure are above the acceptable level for your age group, where exactly did you learn to speak so?"
      "I have read every book in the school library and I listen to adults when they speak." Elsa neatly sidestepped the question. Mr. Toohey hurumphed in disapproval and muttered something about placing limits at the library.
      "What about boys, are you flaunting yourself in front of them? I hear that you spend considerable time with the Yggson boy." Her father leapt up from the sofa, red-faced.
      "Mr. Toohey! I must protest, she is twelve years old." Mr. Toohey turned on him with a look which commanded instant obeisance.
      "I am perfectly aware of the girl's age. What confuses me is where someone with such a sordid family history finds the audacity to speak to a member of The Peoples' Council with such insubordination!" Elsa's father sat back down, shocked and chastised. Elsa looked at her father in terror. He was one of the most respected members of the community; no one had ever dared to speak to him in such tones. Her curious mind also couldn't help but wonder what sordid family history she might have.
      That curiosity was quickly put to rest wit Mr. Toohey's next sentence. "Now, where is this dog that is causing such a fuss?" Elsa froze. Her immediate fear had been that Mr. Toohey had come for Tak, but his pugnacious manner had distracted her. Unfortunately, this distraction had left her unprepared for the question. In a flustered panic, she froze, jumped, smiled, and proceeded to give the most wretched impression of nonchalance ever performed.
      "Dog? What dog?" Elsa hiccoughed out several octaves higher than necessary. Mr. Toohey eyed her suspiciously; tactless though he might be, he was no fool.
      "Don't be daft, girl." Elsa hoped his impatience might have helped him overlook her pathetic display. "Show me the dog with which you are said to spend all of your time. The dog with which you have been seen speaking. The dog which has caused you and your little friends to segregate yourselves from the rest of your peers!" His lengthy explosion had given Elsa enough time to calm and compose herself. She allowed a dimwitted façade to enter into her expressions and voice.
      "Who? Tak? I'd be happy to bring him in, Mr. Toohey; but I don't think he's done all those things. He's just a regular dog." If Mr. Toohey noted the dramatic shift from precocious young lady to ditzy little girl, he showed no outward sign. Perhaps, thought Elsa, his presupposition about how young girls should act had caused him to accept this shift as natural.
      "I am still quite anxious to meet him." Mr. Toohey replied, unconsciously softening his tone in response to her demure manner.
      "Sure, no problem." Elsa batted her eyelashes just enough to look sweet without seeming inappropriate. "I'll go fetch him for you."
      "Not so fast, little lady." Mr. Toohey's momentary tolerance seemed to evaporate as soon as he glanced away from Elsa. "I will retrieve him myself. You stay right here where there is no chance of you slipping away." Elsa blinked with very convincing bemusement.
      "Of course, Mr. Toohey, whatever you think is best. Tak should be in the entrance hall, probably curled up on the rug." Mr. Toohey took a cruel looking chain from his bag and walked out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind himself.

Just a Regular Dog

      Tak stood motionless at the door, carefully listening to the entire conversation. He groaned inwardly when Elsa was caught off guard, but brightened when she recovered so gracefully. "That's my girl!" He muttered under his breath, beaming.
      He started to move back from the door when Elsa volunteered to retrieve him, but stopped in order to hear her final exchange with Mr. Toohey. The grumpy statesmen's lethargic—and no doubt showy—exit from the sitting room gave Tak enough time to scurry back from the door. He carefully avoided the rug, instead choosing to hop onto the bench next to the door and feign sleep.
      Mr. Toohey walked out of the room, chain held at the ready. He looked at the rug briefly, before spotting Tak on the bench. Tak, hearing the man's approach, opened his eyes and looked at Mr. Toohey with a dull and bemused gaze. He gave a brief growl and yip before softly wagging his tail, almost apologetically. All in all, it was a rather perfect rendition of what any normal dog might do in a similar situation.
      Mr. Toohey glared at Tak. "You're small." He stated dumbly. Tak yawned and stretched in response. "Not so tough when you're faced with adults, are you?" Tak found it amusing that Mr. Toohey's desire to bully overrode his 'rational' objection to speaking to dogs. He hopped off the bench, walked over to the door, looked back at Mr. Toohey, wagged his tail, and gave a little whine. "No, you're not going anywhere." Mr. Toohey held the chain at arms lengthy and awkwardly walked towards Tak.
      Tak backed up and raised his hackles, growling ever so slightly. This, Tak supposed, was a fairly common response from a canine perspective. Mr. Toohey wrestled the chain around Tak's neck; Tak whimpered, rolled over, and licked Mr. Toohey's hand. "I don't understand what all the excitement is about," Mr. Toohey muttered, "it's just a boring dog." He tugged on the chain and Tak, appearing reluctant, followed him into the sitting room.

Befuddlement

      Elsa did her best to contain her excitement as Mr. Toohey reentered with Tak in tow. She gazed at him fondly as one might regard a favorite toy. She was very careful to maintain her flighty young girl façade. "Well there he is, the silly little beast." She controlled her anger as she glanced at the chain. Mr. Toohey noted the glance and leveled a challenging gaze at her in response. "Oh, I do hope he wasn't any trouble for you, Mr. Toohey; he's normally such a docile creature."
      When his eyes once more met Elsa's, it was Mr. Toohey who became the docile creature. "Not at all, child; I merely prefer to practice extra caution when dealing with potentially wild animals."
      Elsa flashed a dazzling smile at the repugnant man, "How very clever of you. I imagine you have had to deal with some real monstrosities in your time with The Council."
      Mr. Toohey beamed under the girl's apparent adoration. Tak disguised a derisive snort as a playful yip. Mr. Toohey frowned at the interruption, yanked the chain, and shouted. "Quiet, you! Stay still until you're called upon!" Tak settled down and the man turned back to Elsa; shamelessly attempting to impress her. "You see, children and beasts are easy to manage once you let them know who is boss."
      "How very impressive." She replied, fooling no one but Mr. Toohey. "But tel me, Mr. Toohey; did you really come all this way just to see little old Tak? Of course, I love him more than my most favorite doll. But I simply cannot understand how he would be of interest to anyone else; especially someone as busy and important as yourself."
      Mr. Toohey tried to return to his harsh demeanor, but he was verily glowing from the little girl's words. "Well, child, we have received some rather serious complaints from several members of the community. They believe that the dog is dangerous and that your obsession with him is disruptive to the community at large." This last part was said almost apologetically. Elsa simply gazed innocently back at him in response. He stumbled, suddenly self conscious and guilty. After clearing his throat and seeing that Elsa would offer no verbal response, he continued awkwardly. "We have the incident of the dog attacking the young boy several years ago."
      Elsa's father stood up, red-faced. "That boy was attacking my little girl; Tak was merely defending her."
      "Hold your tongue, Freykin!" Mr. Toohey erupted, his pugnacity released from the serenity of Elsa's gaze. "The animal should have been put down after such a mauling. One more outburst from you and I'll have you put down as well!"
      Elsa's father stood glued to the spot. He seemed ready to launch into a counter assault. Luckily for those of us with tender hearts, the ensuing argument was undermined by Elsa's quick interruption.
      "As I'm sure you have already noted," with a glance, Mr. Toohey was back under her spell. "the boy in question was proved to be a wholly unreasonable individual. Any testimony from him would be tainted by his delusional fantasies."
      If Mr. Toohey noticed Elsa's sudden switch back to precocious young lady, he gave no outward sign. Tak did, however, notice the change. He gave Elsa a surreptitious warning glance which she ignored. She turned her head away from Tak and leveled one of Mr. Toohey's own challenging gazes in his direction.
      He fidgeted nervously, uncomfortably aware that somehow the tides had been turned. After trying and failing to break eye contact with Elsa, Mr. Toohey cleared his throat and continued. "Quite right, my girl, that incident had been ruled to be the fault of the boy. I am merely moving in the order of incidents involving the dog."
      "Of course, Mr. Toohey," Elsa's rebuttal snapped out just as the word 'dog' was fading off of Mr. Toohey's breath. "but obviously, we can't rely on the testimony of the unreasonable. It would seem that this event should be purged entirely from the official records." She spoke to him as an adult would a small child, raising one eyebrow quizzically.
      Mr. Toohey flushed. He stammered for a moment before agreeing with her and vowing to destroy all mention of the incident in the records.
      Several other incidents were mentioned and just as effectively debunked by Elsa's perfectly sound reasoning. Eventually, Mr. Toohey stood in a bemused daze and made his exit. He thanked them for their time, and promised to call on them the next day after speaking to The Council. He even placed Tak's chain into Elsa's hands before showing himself out.
      Elsa waited until she heard the latch click behind Mr. Toohey before flinging the chain into the fire. "Hateful, evil man!" She exploded, "If he harmed so much as one hair on Tak's head..."
      "Elsa!" Her father interrupted, "there is no time for that. You know he will return once he clears his head. And odds are, he won't be alone. Quickly now, the back door!"
      Elsa hesitated for a moment, "But, father, you don't know what's happening." It came out as a whimper.
      "Of course I do, my darling girl,  and I am so sorry. I hoped you would be spared all of this trouble, now go!" With that, she hugged her mother and father, and made for the back door, glancing back once to see her parents calmly sitting beside the fire, a perfect image of love and family.