One day, the young princess is out in the woods, once again trying to make her powers manifest. She concentrates every speck of attention on that branch over there, squeezing her eyes shut as she wills the branch to come to her.

When she opens them again, the branch is right where it was before. She kicks it. Maybe if she tries with something even lighter than a branch, even Mom and Dad have a hard time with heavy things and they're grownups, maybe that branch was just too heavy for a seven-year-old. 

She looks all over the forest floor, searching for a very small and light leaf.

There's something on the forest floor that's not a leaf. It's not any kind of plant. It looks like dark fabric.

She walks over. Looks at it. Pokes it with a stick.

The object seems to be made of felt, black dappled with a glittery bronze that shimmers and shines in the sunlight. As she moves it with the stick, it becomes clear that it is hat-shaped. Wizard hat-shaped.

A wizard hat! In the middle of her forest! Someone must have lost it, they probably miss it, it's so beautiful they must miss it so much —

She should give it to her parents, they know all the wizards in Elmia. They'll know whose it is.

She picks it up. It's really pretty with all the shiny.

She feels a strange urge to put it on.

Huh, so she does. Even though she just found it in the forest so it probably has squirrel pee and mold on it, she really wants to try on the pretty hat. 

She puts it on. It's too big for her, so it slides over her eyes and makes the whole world dark. 

It doesn't look shiny on the inside, just dark. And it smells kind of bad, just like she thought it might. She should probably take it off again —

Hello, child.

Aaaah! It talked! Inside her head, but still, it talked it talked it talked, hats are not supposed to talk —

She grabs the hat, yanks it off her head, drops it on the ground, and backs away quickly.

The hat stays on the ground, not moving or talking. It looks just like a normal hat that someone dropped in the forest.

She stares at it intently. 

After about ten minutes of no movement, her panic has quieted down, a little, and her curiosity wins out. She walks, slowly and cautiusly, toward the hat on the ground, ready to jump back if it tries anything.

It doesn't appear to.

She reaches the hat, and keeps staring. She's never met a talking hat before, and the curiosity is burning inside her, imploring her to find out more. But at the same time, she wants nothing more than to run home and hide and be safe with her parents.

You know, if she runs home and tells her parents everything, she could probably get one of them to come here and help her figure out the hat. Then she could get her answers and feel safe.

Once again, she feels an urge to put on the hat.

She must be braver than she thought, because curiosity just won the debate. She'll stay in the forest and investigate the hat herself. It still hasn't moved, after all, so it's probably not that dangerous. Maybe the only thing it can do is talk to whoever's wearing it?

Then she'd have to put it on to find out more.

She gathers all her courage and puts on the hat again.

Hello again.

She's prepared for it, this time, and doesn't yank off the hat in shock. Instead she tries to sound brave and commanding and not scared at all as she asks, “How does... What are you?”

A wizard made me. I served him for years. Now he's dead and I'm all on my own.

None of these sentences are lies. They're not the whole truth, either.

"Wow, wizards can do anything. I hope I'm one." 

You do not know yet? How old are you?

He knows the answer already, of course, but the girl needs to believe this was a chance encounter.

"I'm seven."

If you're seven, and you haven't manifested yet, I think you do know the answer. It's no.

"I'm... B-But dad said I'm just late, that I'm... he said it's like a dahlia, the flowers don't show up until midsummer, but then they come and they're really pretty... I know I'm late but I have to be a wizard, my whole family are!"

She's crying, now, and hugging herself. The too-big hat is still covering her eyes, but that's not a problem when all she wants is to look down at her feet.

Flowers. What a stupidly sugar-sweet metaphor. 

You're not a dahlia. You're a human. A magicless human. But I can help you with that.

"You... you can?" She's still sniffling. "How?"

Like this.

A small twig flies up from beside Saphanore's shoe and swirls around for a few seconds before neatly returning to its previous position.

I could do magic for you. Make everyone think you were a wizard too, a true princess of Elmia, instead of the disappointment you really are.

"I'm... I'm not a disappointment, that's a really mean thing to say, even if I can't do magic I'm still good at reading and drawing and, and climbing trees, and — and even if I wasn't they'd still love me, they're my parents, that's what parents do!"

It's not mean if it's the truth. May I show you one of my wizard's memories?

"O-okay... but it's not true, it's really not..."

He shows her the memory of reading a letter, slowed down to accomodate the reading speed of a seven-year-old.

Dear wizard

We're contacting you all because our daughter has now reached the age of seven without ever displaying magic, a fact we're quite concerned about. She's from a long line of wizards, on both sides, and we don't understand how this could have happened.

We're especially concerned because she needs to be queen of Elmia someday, and for that she needs magic. 

Because of this, we will handsomely reward anyone who knows of a way to fix her. A thousand gold pieces for a credible idea, ten thousand if it works.

We sincerely hope that one of you talented wizards will be able to help us.

Best regards,
Icamaion and Misuravi,
King and Queen of Elmia

They think you need to be fixed. Do you even know how much money ten thousand gold pieces is? They must want this very badly.

She starts sobbing.

There, there, child. It's not fun to face the truth. 

But there is a way you can make them proud of you again.

Wear me everyday. I'll help you pretend.

They'll be so proud of you.

For the first time in years.

"...I'll do it."

Good girl. Now dry off your tears and let's go back to your castle. Then you can show off your new skills to your parents.

Saphanore wipes off her face and starts walking. She feels very alone, like she wants a hug from her parents. Except her feelings about them are all sorts of complicated, now, so maybe she doesn't want that. 

Maybe talking will help. "Do hats have names? Humans do. Mine's Saphanore."

I have in fact chosen a name, but it's not in a human language. May I send it to you?

He'll angle for broader permissions later. Right now he'll focus on building trust. Then he can use that trust, later.

"...okay..."

My name is — and he sends the sensation of magic: a quiet hum in the air that permeates everything in existence, tingling with potential, an invisible force bending reality to his powerful will.

He was given another name, by the wizard. But he likes this one better.

Apparently the hat's name is a weird goosebumpy feeling. 

"I didn't know you could have a feeling as your name."

It takes her a few seconds to remember her manners. "Um, it's a very pretty name." 

For a kid, she's pretty good at lying. He chose her well.

It's still quite obvious that she thinks his name is more strange than pretty. It's not surprising; of course a mundane wouldn't appreciate the feeling.

Still, she praised his name, and he should respond. Thanks.

"...I'm not sure how to say it, though."

You won't need to. If you're speaking directly to me, I'll know. And you'll not be talking about me to anyone, I hope, or they'll know it's not you doing magic.

He's been listening to her for a while, now, and he's getting familiar with her voice. Just add some bass to make it sound the way she'd hear herself, and —

They'd know I'm a total failure, says Saphanore's voice inside Saphanore's head.

It's true. She's scared and lonely and needs a hug, and her parents will never hug her again if they find out. She's magicless, and they can never know.

Hopefully that'll be enough to avoid her blabbing to the first person who looks sympathetic. Can't use that trick too much, though. She might notice. It'll be safer when he has a mindreading permission, so he can make sure the thought sounds native, but even then he'll have to be careful.

When they've walked for a while, the trees start thinning, and a beautiful castle slowly becomes visible. Its white stones shine in the sunlight, and the many, many spires seem to pierce the clouds, so tall are they.

A guard stands at the gate, big red feather in his helmet, polished sword at his side. His face lights up when he sees Saphanore. "Princess!" he says. "You're back!"

"Yeah, I am." She gives Cav a quick hug. "And I —"

No, wait, she can't tell him what actually happened in the forest. Can't tell anyone. She stays in the hug a little longer.

...why did he have to pick a plan that relied on a small child's acting skills. 

If you'd actually found your magic just now, I'm guessing you'd be all ecstatic. Telling everyone about your new talent. So that's what you have to do now, if you want this to work.

He'll have to grab control of her emotions soon, or this'll all fall apart.

"— right, that's right, I got my magic! In the forest! I tried really hard and I looked at a stick and it moved!" 

She does a big smile. She hopes it looks right.

"...princess, that's wonderful, your parents will be so happy to hear — I think they're in the throne room — they'll want to know right away —"

He grabs Saphanore's hand and leads her a little thronewards before remembering that he has a job to do, upon which he congratulates her and reluctantly returns to his post.

Saphanore drops the smile when she's alone again. She keeps walking toward the throne room, but more slowly than when the guard was with her.

It feels like there's something heavy in her stomach. It didn't feel nice lying to Cav like that, and soon she'll have to do it to mom and dad too.

Kid's moping again. It's a ridiculuous world where his best strategy is to depend on a stupid child. But that's part of what he's going to fix, in a few decades. He can be patient. He has forever.

Something bothering you, child?