Of Course you do.

You arrive safely back at the caravans camping ground just before midday, Cynane giving you a quick wave before heading back into the city. As you wander between the tents you pass familiar merchants carrying wares for their stalls and visiting with each other. You respond to several cheery greetings and make your way to the tent in the center. You take a moment to admire the hand made banner hanging above the tent reading "De Gauss Family Caravan" and step inside.

Behind a wide table covered in records of payments and inventory logs sits a strong but rotund man focusing intently on a small silver ornament in his hands. You greet him, "Good morning Dad." When he doesn't acknowledge your presence you set your book on the table and rap your knuckles against it. "Knock knock, anybody home?" Startled, your father jumps a bit in his chair and looks up at you, breaking into an enormous smile.

"Oh, sweetie, we weren't expecting you back so quickly." He puts the ornament back down on the table and gestures to it. "Look at what your sister found in the bazaar, demon made, I think 2nd era." He looks fondly to the sculpture, which depicts an elven figure holding a staff. "It cost her a pretty silver but I'm sure we can find a good buyer." Your father looks over to the tome you deposited on the table. "You got yourself a new book? Must have done well on your sale, eh?" He looks up at you expectantly. You can't help but grin, "Actually, you wont believe what happened, I-"

"Hold on now!" Your mother interrupts you as she enters the tent. "I know you weren't going to start your story without me." She deposits a platter with a pile of sandwiches on the table and sits down after grabbing one. "Okay, now you can start." You recall the mornings events excitedly, and when you reach the point where you received payment your father stands up and walks around to slap you on the back. "My girl, that's incredible! I'm so proud of you!" He embraces you in a bear hug, lifting you off the ground while your mother stares wide-eyed at the coin purse you've produced. "You're going to make the rest of us look bad." She laughs, "If you ever leave the caravan I'm afraid your father and I will die of starvation we've gotten used to eating so well."

Your father grunts dismissively at that. "What other life could possibly suit our little girl as well as the caravan? She was practically made to be a merchant!" You look between your parents nervously and clear your throat, "Actually... a bit more happened while I was out." Your parents look at you blankly, and you launch into an explanation of the offer Amelia made to you in her office, and how she had praised both your ability and intuition. By the time you finish your retelling your father has sat down looking like he's halfway to fainting and your mother walks around the table to put a hand on his shoulder.

"Y-you're going to turn the offer down, right sweetie?" Your father asks quietly.

You speak plainly. "I told her I'd take a few days to think it over, and I meant it." You try to catch your fathers sight, "It's a great opportunity, she's even offering citizenship for the entire family if we wanted it, but I didn't make any promises." You move closer, "I have too many people who are important to me here to make this an easy decision." You hold your arms open, offering an embrace, "trust me to make the right choice?"

Teary-eyed, your father stands and hugs you tight, your mother joining the embrace a moment later. "We know you'll make us proud whatever you decide sweetie, you always do, it's just hard to believe you've grown so much that you leaving is even a possibility." She says, stroking your hair with one hand. "Speaking of which, Gen?" She looks down to your now gently sobbing father.

"Wha? Oh. Oh, yes." Your father extracts himself and goes digging around in a wooden chest in the corner, using the opportunity to discreetly wipe his eyes with his sleeve. When he turns around, the portly merchant is holding a small parcel. Your father does his best to put on a big smile and offers the box to you, "Happy birthday Whitney." You accept your gift and open it to reveal a simple dagger with a green lacquered scabbard.

"It's enchanted," Your mother tells you, "It'll never rust, never become tainted, and will only cut things you want it to cut." She takes your hand, "We wanted to get you something practical you'd always be able to find a use for." You unsheathe the blade, revealing grey steel engraved with your name. You give both of your parents another hug. "Thank you."

"Yeah well, you don't deserve it after making your mother cry," Your father looks away indignantly while your mother snorts. "Go on, go have some fun tonight, we'll hold down the fort." You nod, gather up your stuff and leave your parents tent, the afternoon light bearing down on you.

When you get to your tent you put your new book on your nightstand and decide to change clothes to something more suitable for hitting up the town. You've just tossed your vest onto the bed when someone calls out to you.

"Whitney?"