"Adara, this is serious, put down the wand."  The witch strained to put every dram of urgency and authority she possessed into her voice, despite the already ridiculous situation.  Her formal robes had been changed to an improbably frilly dress in an eye-watering rainbow of jarring hues, the humble cupboard that normally stored jars of preserves had burst open, innumerable candies and confections spilling onto the floor, and the cottage itself was lurching in a regular rhythm as it soared over the countryside on the beats of immense sparrow's wings.  She could never have imagined a child so young would immediately establish such a powerful rapport with the World-Tree's Splinter, and it augured amazing things for her niece's future...but all that mattered right now was getting the Splinter out of her hands before she did something that might be genuinely irreparable.

"Silly auntie, not done witching yet," exclaimed the four-year-old, laughing delightedly at the juxtaposition of her aunt's most serious face with the wonderful party-dress she'd magicked onto her.  On her tiptoes to lean over the frame, she stared eagerly out the window at the land far below and wondered why her aunt hadn't done this sort of thing long ago instead of being so serious all the time...then answered her own question as in the distance she caught sight of the dark jagged form of the Black Spire, home to all the nasty warlocks that so vexed all the witches and other good people...maybe if they weren't so mean and serious...

Adara stretched her arm out, leveling the large shard of deep brown wood at the narrow slash on the horizon, screwed up her face in concentration, and shouted, unfathomable power flowing into the high chirp of the girl's cheerful invitation.