IM VERY HYPER OVER THE CHANGELING ELF THING.... do you have any headcanons my dearest friend
where the hell did the elf condition Come From. magic in the trees? some lonely forest god wishing for disciples who lived long enough to see the pattern in threats to the forest and could therefore protect it?? just a freak accident in the evolutional history of faerun??? we have no fuckin idea. im banking on the lonely god giving a blessing to the land, or maybe the elemental plane of magic just crosses into forests more easily. the changelings just have to stay there long enough.
babies cannot be taken, this is a myth perpetuated by anxious young mothers hovering over their cribs and wearing iron pendants. the child can only be taken when they can want to be taken. until they can walk down the forest roads on their own legs. thats a very important part of elfhood- a connection, physical first and spiritual second, to the earth. there has to be the childs free will involved.
of course, this puts lonely children at a far greater risk.
they can only be taken in periods of transition, when the veil is thin in their minds and their bodies. for example, the transition from baby to child is the most common time for a changeling to be taken to the woods, though there have been cases of children becoming teenagers and teenagers becoming adults, but those are incredibly sparse and fraught with doubt. it is unknown whether these older changelings survive the change, or whether or not it is too late to plant the magic inside them.
changing is painful. there are older elves who look after the children, croon them to sleep, stroke their poor heads, press cool kisses to their aching joints. this is painful, and i am so sorry, little one, the caretakers say, apology light in their voices, light like grey mornings and dew on grass, but it must be done. i love you.
elves treasure their children so very much. they dress them in fine silver leaves light as a whisper, comb spells into their hair, stitch protective sigils into their cloaks. they have great games of tag lasting for weeks on end, falling down into a pile to learn how to meditate rather than sleep, learn the thrill of the hunt in a way that only a people with the forest on their side can. they never go without a kiss goodnight.
changelings forget about their original homes very quickly. their original names and their parents and siblings and friends fade as they walk into the trees, the memory of their smiles and voices fading soon after. they cant imagine being called anything else than the name their caretaker gave them, until it is time for them to go back into the wide world and find a name for themself.