The process of selecting a mother and father for the man’ai was one part volunteer and one part ritual. Parenting the unusual elf child was considered a great honor, volunteers were usually many and if the two could not be selected that way then the matter was taken up with the gods. 
A fire would be lit then a basin of water was poured over leaving the names in the coals. Of course sometimes there was a bit difficulty in reading said names, but more often than not it served it’s purpose.
Children were very rarely born to the elves. Most of them had lived for thousands of years and showed no sign of aging or dying, children simply weren’t necessary for their way of life. The man’ai were quite different in many ways. 
The first was obvious when Illion was born, when his mother gave birth the entire room was surprised to see a kicking and screaming baby boy, when nearly every other time the man’ai had been girls. Still he was welcomed lovingly.
Or as lovingly as possible. Since on their hundredth birthday they’d be sacrificed for the better of the village. Yes at times the parents would be distressed but it was always expected of them, therefor they were treated well, especially throughout the pregnancy. 
Jenelai had been chosen this time, and two men had been chosen as a selection between said two had never been distinguished. They may never know which man fathered the child. 
Illion was the type of child that spent more time in the dirt than out of it. He spent his childhood making mud pies, drawing in the dust, and climbing trees only to fall out giggling (even if he injured himself doing so). Jenelai would always scold him at first, but it wouldn’t take her long to give in and hug him before dragging him inside to patch up his scrapes and cuts. 
She adored her son, which would make the sacrifice difficult for her when it came. At night when Illion slept she would sneak out and over to the village head, crying that she didn’t want to give up her son. She was assured that it was for the best and it was too late to do anything about it. She cried a while and the returned home before her son could wake.
Illion remained clueless as to why his mother wept, if he were aware of it at all. When he had been small he would hug his mothers legs and tell her “there, there”, like she always did to him. Even as he grew up he would still try to comfort her, though he knew not why she was upset. 
His fate was kept secret from him, he’d hadn’t even been properly explained to why he was different, even though he knew he was.
“Hey, wait for me”! Illion panted as he ran up the side of the waterfall, but his words seemed to be lost in the rush of water.
The older (yet perhaps more immature) elf looked behind himself and grinned at Illion. Ausa was the next youngest, right after Illion, yet was much, much older, but he was still willing to play and mess around with the young elf so the two were often seen together getting into trouble. 
The two climbed the steep hill that overlooked the waterfall. It was one of the few places in the village that wasn’t completely hidden by trees. The hill was wet and slippery, threatening to send anyone attempting to climb it sliding back down and covered in mud. Illion knew he was going to hear about it later but didn’t care. 
Once they reached the top they could nearly see over the trees. Illion loved it there. He knew he shouldn’t, but he so wanted to leave the confines of the woods and see what was beyond, even if he were to run into a human.
If anything could be said about the relationship between the elves and the humans is that the elves loathed them. They avoided them like the plague, which was why they lived their solitary lives in the woods, far from human’s reach. Illion didn’t share this hate, even though he’d been told time and time again. 
“Manr en aekar.” Everyone said. They were crude, violent, and inferior. Though despite that, Illion didn’t care, at times he wasn’t even sure they told the truth, but since he’d never actually met a human he had no leg to stand on.
“I’ll never get tired of this.” He said to Ausa.
“That’s because you haven’t seen it eight-thousand times.”
“No one’s making you come up here, you know.” 
“Yeah but if I didn’t you might trip and break your neck, how would that feel?”
“Hey, I’m not that clumsy.”
Ausa laughed and gave Illion a nudge, making the younger elf step back to keep himself from falling.
“Watch it! It’s slippery.” Illion returned the push while smiling. Truth be told he really didn’t care if he got muddy. 
“What, you’re not afraid of a little med are you?” Ausa winked and gave him another little push. 
The two laughed as they took turns pushing each other until Illion actually did begin to slip, but by the time he could say anything Ausa was giving him a harder push and he’s completely lost his balance.
Illion tried to grab onto Ausa or something solid but failed to do either and went tumbling down the steep side. Despite his best efforts he did not land stable, instead he landed on his ankle. It made a little popping sound and although he wanted to scream Illion only took in a sharp breath. He didn’t dare touch it or move lest he hurt it any more.
“You alright down there?” Ausa called down. 
“No...” Illion cringed at the slightest movement and made a pained groan. “...My ankle!”
The other elf carefully climbed down then jumped at the half way point. There was something none of the other elves could relate to, and that was the man’ai’s penchant for injury. They were simply easier to hurt. 
“It looks fine.” Ausa tried to get him to shrug it off.
“Well it doesn’t feel fine. I just wanna go back home.” Illion complained.
“Want me to carry you?” Ausa teased.
“No! Just help me up.”
He tried not to put any undue pressure on the ankle, but simply standing upright killed anyway.
“See, it’s not so bad.”
Illion glared at his friend and said “Just let me lean on you.”
“Alright, alright.” 
Illion slipped his arm over Ausa’s shoulders. “You know I’m gonna blame this on you.” He said.
“Right, right after your mom finished scolding you for following me.”
Ausa was known for being reckless, with himself and others. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, he just didn’t realize others weren’t as tough as him. But despite that he let Illion use him as a crutch and the two slowly made their way back to the village and Illion’s home. 
Carefully Illion was sat down on a chair outside, too afraid to track mud inside. 
Jenelai came out a minute later and sighed heavily. “I don’t know how you haven’t learned not to follow him everywhere he goes.” She said referring to Ausa. 
She clicked her tongue in disapproval but picked up a rag and grabbed a small pouch from a cupboard inside. By then the ankle looked swollen and bruised, but she didn’t seemed worried. Despite Illion complaining and saying “ouch” in more than one language his mother gently wiped off the mud and washed the ankle before pouring a sparkling clear substance over it. Within seconds the swelling and pain went down until both were gone. If there was one thing to be said about elven medicine is was that it was very effective.  
“How do you manage to do this to yourself all the time?”
“Well Ausa and I were climbing and it was muddy...”
“Next time think before you climb something muddy.” She kissed his forehead and shook her own, knowing those words would go in one ear and right out the other.