The little elf sat down on a spool of thread on the shelf, scanning the room for an item that would serve his purpose. His eyes came to rest on a small jacket draped over the back of a chair. It was patched in half a dozen places and fashioned for a young human boy. The elf smiled. There was so much potential with this one.

Pulling out a needle, some scissors, and a small ream of cloth, the elf soon had an elf-sized replica of the little human's jacket. The replica was perfect--he could read in each weave the events of the owner's life, from the simple details of what he ate each day to more intricate things, like nearly drowning last summer in the old pond.

The boy was currently eating breakfast with his family. The elf knew he would have to work fast if he wanted to be done before the boy came for his jacket.

The elf held out his arm, palm up, the signal he had taught to all his pets throughout the years. The spider rushed to its master, clambering onto the elf's balding head. It scampered in a quick circle, excited to begin. The elf took his needle in one hand and made another signal with the other, and the spider began threading down silk. The elf caught the silk, threading it through the needle, and began sewing the new thread into his replica of the boy's jacket, whispering to himself as he did so. The silk would glow faintly as it touched its new home, before fading into the jacket.

The elf was done just in time--he could hear the boy banging up the steps. He had just enough time to hide behind a medicine bottle on the shelf before the boy entered the room, rushing for his jacket. As the boy threw the jacket on, the new weaves the elf had made glittered ever so slightly. It had worked.

The child now had a new fate.

When the boy's family came into a fortune only a year later, no one suspected that a little elf had anything to do with it. They also didn't suspect the elf when that little boy died in a freak accident a short time later.