After Wren handed over the 2 copper coins and bags of food to the child, the child had wordlessly thanked her in disbelief, before scurrying away into the crowd. Wren did not criticize the child’s action as she understood the fear of his things being stolen. But nonetheless Wren honestly wished the child the best of luck from the depths of her heart.

Wren leisurely munches finishes the two fruits, before getting up and heading down the cobbled street towards the guard post. Still left with a handful of sweets, Wren makes her way to the already formed queue as she chews on her sweets. Despite the wait the line is neatly formed as the Guards of Olden-Rise were famous for having little patience with impertinent travelers.

The start of the line begins to move as Wren lines up behind a large group of merchants. The well-trained guards with confidently strides past in routine check carrying powerful enchanted weapons. The experienced guards’ eyes study the group for any sign of suspicious behavior. A tall guard with a youthful face and twisting locks of brown hair approaches down the side of the line towards Wren. The young faced guard stops in front of her and pointedly clears his throat as Wren pointedly ignores him back.

Clearing his throat again the youthful faced guard says, “What is a young child like you doing in line? Don't you know a child is not allowed to enter and travel through the mountain pass by themselves?"

Wren’s stomach sinks, but Wren wasn’t one to be easily be shaken by the guards. There were plenty of run in’s the capital and Wren did not necessarily have a good impression of them. Nevertheless, Wren also knew that the guards were quite easy to handle if one knew what buttons to push.

Faking a child’s innocence, Wren’s eyes widen filled with awe. “No, sir, I am just waiting for my guardian. He took off for a bite to eat and is running late no doubt. My uncle enjoys the company of theirs a bit too much for his own good,” Wren cheekily said.

The guard with a youthful face nods in understanding as he had seen similar situations before. The guard firmly says, "Fine then. In that case, please step out of the line and we'll wait here together for your guardian."

Wren grinds her teeth in slight annoyance. This guard is really turning to more trouble than he is worth. It's just her luck. Probably on any other day, she would have been able to safely pass through the toll all by herself if for not this guard's turn to be on duty.

 Putting on a pair of fake cheerfulness, Wren beams in joy at the guards concerned actions for her well-being. "Why thank you sir, for your concern. I happy to know that such fine officers such yourself still exist in the world caring for all of us common folk," Wren said with childlike awe in her voice.

The youthful faced guard, blushes slightly at her innocent praises. Wren cackles darkly in the depths of her heart, before rapidly becoming sullen. With reluctant hesitation on Wren's part, Wren moves to step out of a line when a firm hand clamps itself onto the youthful faced guards’ shoulder.

The guard with the youthful face turns around and doesn't see anyone, but the top of a hood. The youthful faced guard frowns in annoyance and glares down at the owner of the hand. A short man only just over a meter tall with a stout face and a sturdy body greets the guards glare with a friendly smile. Pulling back his hood, the middle-aged man’s face can be seen. A long nose with dirt colored eyes and graying peppered streaked wiry hair.

 Wren sniffs the air in suspicion as the smell of earth and metal wafts into the air. Wren recognizes the scent from some of the girls at the brothel, it was the scent of dwarven folk. But unlike them, he didn’t look much like full-blooded dwarf. No, he was much too tall and too slender to be a full-blooded dwarf.

  Still, Wren didn’t know him nor trust his motives, but more than likely they shared the common goal to cross through the toll. In that case, Wren would accept his aid as the middle-aged tilted his head at her. Picking up her que, Wren smiles happily at him and shakes her finger at him in a lecturing fashion. “There you are uncle! I was getting tired of waiting for you. Were you at the pub again?" Wren asked.

 The middle-aged man sheepishly shrugs and guiltily smiles back. The middle-aged man apologetically turns towards the guard. "I apologize for leaving my newly adopted child. I've always been a bachelor all my life and have never had a desire to find myself a wife to settle down with, but I guess the Gods had other plans for me to my great and utter surprise," he ruefully chuckled out loud. “I still have yet to get use to her and sometimes misplace her.” At his words the guards and the surrounding curious onlookers roar with laughter. After all, they've all committed a similar act before much to grand dismay of their wives and women.

The youthful faced guard claps a hand around the middle-aged man's back in an apologetic fashion. "My deepest apologizes sir. Feel free to be on your way. Although please try not to misplace your child so often,” the guard mischievously said back.

The youthful faced guard nods and says, "A good day to you. sir. May you be blessed with luck and health on your travels." The youthful faced guard turns around and walks down the line to harass some other poor unfortunate traveler who managed to attract his attention.

The middle-aged man steps into line next to Wren still acting in his respective role. In reply, Wren reaches for his calloused hand and takes it into her own. The middle-aged man stiffens at her actions, but slowly curls his hand around hers. To pass the time, Wren cheerfully babbles childish nonsense to him as the middle-aged man in a familiar convincing fashion chats back at her until they are both at the booth. The middle-aged man pays their passage by placing a silver coin in the toll box at the guard's post as a burly guard asks them, "State your purpose and destination."

 They both reply at the same time, "We're going to the north for business." They both hide their surprise and suspicion at each other’s response as they continue to smile pleasantly at the guards. Neither of them trusted each other further than an inch.

The guard smiles at their response and says, "Travel as swiftly as you can as night has begun to fall early in the mountains. You'll want to reach the first guard post by nightfall lest be caught out in the open at night."  They both nod in gratitude and play their parts as they march out of Olden-Rise. This continues for some time until they make their way to the fork in the pass. The merchants and rest of the travelers head right for the south, while they take the left fork for the north.

After a bend in the road, the middle-aged man says, “I saved you and you saved me, kid, so now we're even. Don't expect me to take care of you. We'll walk to the first post together and then go our separate ways."

Wren nods her head in complete agreement and replies, "That's exactly what I was going to say. Let's introduce ourselves to be polite. My name is Wren. And my only question is why did you help me?"

The middle-aged man gruffly says, "My name is Aram. As for the answer to your question, because I saw what you did for that kid. I figured you would willingly cooperate with me for you own benefit, since I sensed you're the same as me in that regard."

 Wren nods slowly at his words in understanding. After all dwarves are highly sought slaves for their excellent craftsman skills. It would make sense that he would hide himself among the humans and distrust all others.

 Wren continues to ponder and wonders, what Aram's other half might be? She'd been sniffing him the entire trip and could not smell human on him but still smelled a familiar scent that she couldn’t quite place. But most interesting of all, Wren’s skin had a bit of tingles as they walked. Though she wasn’t afraid, Wren got the feeling he was quite powerful and most definitely stronger than her. If so, it maybe wouldn’t be a bad idea to learn a thing or two from him.

The two remain silent on the trail each lost in their own thought until something flies rapidly toward them. Wren without hesitation casts an icicle into the air with a blood drop at the end. The frozen ice traverses through the air towards the flying reptile like creature.

Aram ignores Wren’s actions as such a weak ice spell would do very little to harm the monster. Strange glowing magic begins to concentrate around his fists as he readies himself for the creature’s attack. But before the creature can attack, the smell of blood magic permeates the air. Aram grits his teeth in anger. If a blood elf had shown up, then it would be close! Unfortunately, he wouldn’t be able to help the child in the slightest from the creatures' attack as defeating the blood elf was the number one priority.

The icicles slam into the reptilian monster and explode. The creature crashes into the ground in a heap as the blood floats out of its body and is absorbed into Wren’s hand. Aram whirls to face the blood-elf but is shocked to find the child using blood magic.

Finished, Wren glares back and says, “What?” Not seeing Aram respond, Wren says, “Now we’re even. Now let’s get going before any more of those things show up.” Wren doesn’t wait for a reply before marching down the road.

Aram is still in shock as he dumbly follows still trying to regain his bearings. After some time, Wren breaks the awkward silence and says, “I have some blood-elf in me.”

Noticing a lack of response on his part, Wren continues. "If you try to blackmail me, I promise I will make you regret it. I know you’re a dwarf because you smell like metal and earth. And secondly, the magic that you just used changed your scent to that of a fairy. Most dwarfs are not very good at magic, yet you are which proves the fact that you have fairy blood. So, if you try to blackmail me, I will blackmail you back and expose your hidden secret."

Not seeing a response, Wren tries a different tactic, “

With a heavy sigh, Wren tries another tactic as she curiously says, "So, how did that happen? You know your birth? I mean, a dwarf and a fairy, a rather rare, odd combination, don't you think?"

Sighing at Wren’s persistence, Aram finally turns and answers the child’s question. "I will answer your question in due time," Aram tiredly said.

Wren grins at her success and hums to herself to pass the time. Wren blindly reaches into her bag and pulls out a small pouch filled with dried fruit. Wren chews on the snack and waits as cool breeze ruffles their cloaks announcing winter is coming.

Aram politely coughs  and says, “I was just rather surprised that you have blood elf in you that's all. For one, you do indeed look like an elf, but you don't bear any likeness or any other resemblance to the Blood Elves. The Blood Elves tend to have golden hair, eyes, and skin. There most certainly are variations, but you don't meet any of those."

Wren mutters under her breath, "Because I'm a Frost Ogre." Whether Aram heard her or not, he did not comment on her words as Aram continues to be lost in his own thoughts.

After a long pause, Aram to continues, "Blood Elves rarely ever breed with other races other than the elven races. As far as I know, half-blood elves are either die in birth or perish as children.”

“Yes, I already know that,” Wren drily said.

Aram blinks in surprise and says, “How much do you know?

“All of it,” Wren snickered back. “I know all about the uncontrollable bloodlust and that is the reason that blood elves don’t have children with others.”

Aram chokes and says, “Then you must know you are the first half-blood elf in history to not go mad!”

“No, I’m only a quarter blood-elf. Besides I’m not the first, father was,” Wren distantly said. Wren gently smiles with pride at her father’s achievements. He surely was without peer.

Aram recognizes the familiar expression and does not ask anything more the subject. Glancing upward, Aram says, “We better speed up, the sun is staring to wane.”  

They instantly press forward each lost in their own thoughts. As the sun begins to wan a cold chilly wind begins to pick up causing their cloaks to flap nosily in the breeze. Night falls quickly in the mountains as it rapidly begins to darken. As it grows dark in the distance the faint glow of lanterns can be made. Pressing into the chilly wind, they keep their heads down and press forward.

A half of a candle mark later a well wrapped up guard at the gate glares down at two weary travelers. Aram yells up at the guard, "We came from Olden-Rise, this is the first post isn't it?"

The guard grunts and signals to the other guard to open the gate. The small fort gate opens with a groan and opens just a crack to allow the travelers to creek through, before shutting with a loud snap. A guard on the ground points them towards the only inn as they make their way towards it. Aram opens the thick wooden door to find weary guards sitting at the table eating with the innkeeper at the bar. Closing the door behind them, Aram walks towards the innkeeper and says, “We need a bedroom with two beds and two delivered meals if possible?”

The thin innkeeper grunts, "That will be fine, sir. Your room will be two doors to your left."

Aram wordlessly thanks the innkeeper and tromps up the wooden stairs as Wren darts up ahead and slams the door open to their bedroom. Wren automatically picks the bed nearest to the window, before methodically removing her bags and neatly hanging her cloak on the bedpost. Carefully removing her boots, Wren eagerly throws herself onto the bed to rest. Wren’s stomach growls at not having been fed lunch and grumbles about having daily regular meals.

Aram gingerly closes the door behind him and begins to unpack as well. Perhaps bothered by the silence, Aram says, "Why did you help the child?"

 Wren raises her head and stares in confusion at him. Turning on her side, Wren says, “We share the same fate, the loss of our parents. And as such, we no longer have anyone to defend us in this world and must do our best to survive by our own efforts. I think that the least I could do is offer a helping hand to aid someone that shares the same fate."

Aram is quiet in understanding as he understands far too well. His own mother forced herself to live among strangers to save him only to die for protecting him. And afterwards, he too was forced to live alone and survive with his own two hands.

Wren interrupts Aram’s thoughts by saying, “So, what’s your story?”

Aram glances up and says, “Given my dwarven heritage, I am a craftsman.”

“No, I mean, how’d a fairy and dwarf, you know meet?” Wren persistently asked in curiosity.

Aram sighs in embarrassment and says, “It’s a long story.”

Wren eagerly comes to rest on her elbows as her eyes gleam. Gazing with eyes full of interest, Wren says, “We’ve got all night.”

Seeing Wren’s persistent eyes, Aram has distinct impression the girl won’t give up. Sighing, Aram leans back to rest on his bed and says, “Many years ago, my mother, Olwen set out to fulfill her apprenticeship as a journeyman by finding rare materials in the Tessa Mountain Range. My mother’s journey was fraught with many dangers, but each time she successfully triumphed. However, that all changed when Olwen came across a pack of black wolves. Beseeched on all sides, Olwen fled through the night to only slip and fall into a ravine. Injured, Olwen was unable to escape and called out in hopes a stranger would come to her aid. Indeed, a stranger did come to her aid, a young male fairy by the name of Aran found her. Aran carried Olwen way to his nearby magically crafted cottage.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Wren’s eyes sparkle at the romantic story and clutches her pillow to her chest in excitement. Just because she didn’t always act like a girl, didn’t mean she wasn’t a girl at heart!

“You see Aran was a young fairy lord in search of an adventure. Once healed of her injury, Olwen would have set out, but the first snows of winter struck early. Unable to traverse the mountains in such perilous weather conditions, Aran kindly allowed Olwen to stay for the winter. Naturally being young as winter passed by one thing led to another and the two fell in love.

With spring coming, my mother, Olwen realized that they could not be together. Oh, Olwen loved Aran with all her heart, but she knew she would never be accepted by Aran’s kin. But most of all, fairies are unable to live underground. Olwen knew Aran would force himself for love, but she couldn’t bear to see her lover suffer for her sake. Her decision was only reaffirmed upon finding herself with child.

With spring upon them, Olwen left one warm spring night in the dead of night. My mother, Olwen only left a letter saying, how much she loved him and no other explanation. The only memento she took with her was his golden engraved ring a gift to her. The journey took several weeks back to the dwarven kingdom. Upon her return, my grandparents were shocked but pleased to find that Olwen was caring an unborn child. My mother never told anyone who my father was not until circumstances forced her too. But before than at my birth my mother named me, Aram in remembrance of my father. My grandparents loved me with all their might despite my unknown father, while my mother never wed nor loved another man again.

As a child I was much thinner and taller in comparison to a regular dwarf. But that didn't matter, for I was a happy child who had many friends. However, as I grew older, I began to become ill more and more often. My mother with a sick heart knew that it was my fairy heritage that was awakening. Unable to bear my suffering, Olwen finally confessed who my father was. With tears in her eyes, my mother explained that I needed training for my fairy heritage lest I become a threat to others and myself. Furthermore, that I could possibly die should I remain underground for much longer. And so, the decision was made, we would part for the surface. With a tearful goodbye, we said goodbye to friends and family before setting off for the hidden fairy kingdom. Our journey was fraught with danger, but mother skillfully kept us safe.

Finally, after many weeks we arrived at the fairy kingdom’s door. Olwen shouted at the guards to let us pass as she explained that I was half-fairy in need of training. The guards naturally mocked my mother’s words for what fairy could ever love a dwarf? It was not until Olwen revealed my father’s ring did they allow us to enter the fairy kingdom.

We taken inside and told to wait in a guards’ tower awaiting further instructions. To our amazement, the Fairy King came in person. The Fairy King indeed confirmed my parentage as my father being Aran, the son of the fairy Duke of Loren. For indeed, Aran had returned heartbroken many years ago to only beg for the whereabouts of the dwarven kingdom. Naturally, the Loren Family was opposed and did not allow him to venture out into the wilderness. Saddened by grief and heartbreak, Aran wasted away with sickness and perished.

Not willing for Aran’s love child’s talent to be wasted, the Fairy King acknowledged my and mother’s existence as part of the Loren household. The Fairy King personally escorted us back to the Loren Family manor and fostered unto them. The Loren Family naturally were reluctant to accept us but had no choice as the Fairy King had decreed it be so.

Despite my dwarven heritage, I was quite a talented mage and accepted into the fairy academy. Nevertheless, not excluding the Loren Family many viewed me as a flightless abomination. With the Loren family turning a blind eye, the noble children of the academy sought to bully me and excluded me from all social activities.

Still I was happy for I had my mother, Olwen. My mother, Olwen was quite popular in the city for her excellent dwarven craftsmanship. With her head held high, Olwen continued to pass down the dwarven craftsmanship down to me. We spent many happy hours together in the forge crafting-,” Aram said with a distant smile.

Wren clutches her pillow tightly already knowing what was coming. Burying most of her face, Wren’s eyes peek over the edge as she continues to listen.

 “However, that all changed the day a great horde of lion beasts broke through the gates. Being the valiant woman that she was, Olwen put on her armor and went to battle. Mother was beyond brave and if not for her, the city would have been possibly destroyed. And yet, Olwen would die from her wounds in the middle of the city alone.

The Fairy Kingdom rewarded mother post-martyrdom by granting me a minor title and land of my own. I did not care for the King’s gifts for what I truly desired could not be granted. But there was a small tender mercy that did give me some measure of relief. Out of guilt or perhaps a firm word from the Fairy King, but my Loren grandparents buried my mother next to the grave of my father.

After that there was nothing keeping me in the fairy kingdom. I threw myself into graduating as fast as possible, before leaving the kingdom forever. And since, then I’ve never gone back,” Aram said with a faint smile.

“With joy I returned back to Hallstatt to be greeted by friends and family. But I did not see my beloved grandparents faces among the happy throng. With sadness one of my cousins explained that my grandparents had passed away some time ago. However, my family was quite happy to have me back as my aunts and uncles gladly offered up their places for me to stay at. But I politely declined as living with them would not be the same.

Either way, I was forced to leave due to my fairy nature as I became violently ill after living two months underground. Instead I choose to live nearby above ground and regular travel back and forth. The only real reason I was passing by Olden-Rise was because I had finished trading with another dwarven kingdom and was returning home,” Aram explained.

 Wren eyes gleam with a twinkle at the excellent news. Not only was Aram not a pervert ghost, but an educated craftsman with many connections! With winter coming, it would be the perfect time to find a teacher. It was though the heavens had finally sent something good her way!

Wren grins in a predator fashion at Aram as Aram can't help but shiver at her gaze. “What on earth could the child possibly want?” Aram uneasily wondered as cold sweat crawls down his back.

Wren cunningly says, “Do you have a student?”

 “No, why?” Aram suspiciously asked.

Wren innocently rises to her feet and bows. "Aram, this child places herself into your care and looks forward to being under your care. Please teach me wisely, teacher. I look forward to our time being spent together,” Wren sincerely said.

 Aram stares wordlessly at Wren. Did she clearly not hear, what he previously said? Besides he lives alone and has no prior knowledge of teaching others!

Trying to get her to change her mind, Aram hastily says, " I am a hard and ruthless teacher. I will make you work hard every day to the bone that I’m sure you will come to regret becoming my pupil."

Wren interjects, “For one, you’re not a perverted ghost.” Aram chokes at that comment in bewilderment.

  "Besides, I doubt you will chop off my limbs for training purposes,” Wren matter-of-factly stated.

Aram stares at Wren in horror and stutteringly says, "Of course not! What kind of deranged lunatic would commit such foul actions?" Aram shivered in horror at such vile actions.

 “A perverted ghost,” Wren solemnly replied causing Aram to choke again.

" I greatly look forward to your guidance,” Wren added and deeply bows again to him.

Aram is quiet and unable to think of a come back as Wren scrambles for her bag. Before Aram can react, Wren returns with a money bag and places it on the bed before him. Wren apologetically bows and says, “I apologize for my lack of manners, Master. I had forgotten that there is a fee that must be paid for an apprenticeship. Please accept these humble offering as payment for my education and apprenticeship. Please guide me wisely teacher."

Aram mutely stares at the child. Nothing he says seems to get through to her! But worst of all, he had the strange certainty that persuasion would fail in regard to her.

Exasperated and against his better judgment, Aram says, "I will accept you as my apprentice, if you answer some questions for me. First, why do you want to be trained by me? And secondly explain what your goal is? For I will not create a monster, who only seeks destruction."

Wren smiles at her master's wise words. This is just a test for master to see her worthiness to be taught under him. In that case she happily accepts the challenge.

 Wren honestly answers, "I need to be educated and trained in magic. You are clearly capable of both and best of all you aren't a perverted ghost.”

Aram’s brows furrow at the perverted ghost comment.  “Did she really meet a perverted ghost?” Aram couldn’t help but wonder with a bit of horror and intrigue.

 “As for the second question, I wish to create a nation, where ogres and all manner of creatures can live in peace just like in the beginning. And it certainly helps that you have many powerful connections which I am need of to establish a successful trade. With my goal of having you accept the position as head of trade and craftsman,” Wren sincerely said.

Aram opens and closes his mouth at Wren’s ambitions. Choking, Aram asks, “Wait, why a nation for ogres?" He curiously asked.

Wren raises an eyebrow and proudly says, "Because I'm an Ogre, of course. I'm the proud clan head of the Frost Clan."

Aram opens and closes his mouth trying to wrap his mind around the concept. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but your appearance is that of an elf,” Aram warily said.

 Wren nods her head and sternly says, "Yes, I do look like an elf. However, Master even in jest if you ever call me an elf, I will break your nose. I am an ogre."

Aram mutely nods at the scary look on Wren’s face, since the child does not appear to be joking. Curious now about the strange circumstances, Aram decides that perhaps now, would not be the best time to inquire about that bit of history. Despite himself, Aram found himself convinced due to the child’s tenacity.

In reluctant acceptance, Aram says, "Fine, I'll be your Master." Wren eagerly claps her hands as Aram instantly adds, “But I expect you to follow my orders without question.”

Wren happily grins to herself. She knew she could convince her master to accept her. After all, how could he possibly turn away the Frost Clan head?

A soft knock on the door is heard as the inn keeper holds their dinner in hand. Aram quickly puts away the money pouch into his travel bag, before rising to open the door. The innkeeper hands Aram two trays brimming with food, before retreating and softly closing the door shut.

Aram wordlessly hands the plate to Wren, who snatches it right out of his hands as she ravenously begins to eat the food. Within a few moments the plate is wiped clean as Aram dumbly stares at the child. Just what on Athlora is this child?

Wren happily places her tray outside the door, before removing her boots and climbing into bed. Tucked into bed, Wren snuggles into the warm soft bed and sleepily yawns. "Good night Master, I’ll see you in the morning,” Wren said and closes her eyes fast asleep.

Aram just continues to wordlessly study his new pupil, still not having touched a single bite of his food. “Just what on Athlora did I get myself into?” Aram wondered to himself. Heaving a sigh, he places the uneaten plate of food at the door, before retreating to his bed to sleep. Sleep has a long time coming, but finally the exhaustion wins, and he sleeps in a fitful sleep.

 Elsewhere that night in the town of Olden-Rise at a table in a corner of the pub Crow's Feet sit three men. The three men drink a mug of hot cider as they sit in silence. The first to break the silence is Fergus, the vendor. “Noel, that kid ya sent to me, sure is something else. She apologized to me for judging me and even said, if in the future I would be willing to come work for her! Can you believe the guts on that girl?" Fergus said with a chuckle.

 Noel, the aged merchant replies, "That she is. I'm not sure who she is, but I can only hope that we’ll see her again."

Tallen, the baker curiously asks, "Who are you talking about? Are you talking about the girl, who was with you this morning, Noel?"

Fergus grins and says, "Ya that would be kid. A toast to wishing the kid the best of luck." The men clank their mugs together and take a swig, before talking until late that night. After all, who knows perhaps they will meet again.

Early the next morning in the chilly morning, Wren and Aram set off. Aram led her down the path for a bit, before heading off down a small, hidden trail. As time passed, Wren became hungry as they continued without stopping to eat. Wren only managed to eat a dried piece of meat, before being unable to as the difficulty of the trail increased as they crossed through 5 gullies, 2 ravines, and 1 ominous pit with no ending in sight.

After the entire day’s travel with the sun in front of them beginning to set, they finally emerged into a valley. There below in the middle of a lower valley was a well-made cottage made out of wood and stone. Wren sneezes as they descend below at the flowers strong scent. Wren never did like the scent of flowers as it reminded her of the scent the Ladies of the house wore. Sad to say, but Wren never much liked flowers since then.

Trotting over the plain of grass and flowers, Wren spots a large well-tended garden on both sides of the cottage with an orchard filled with fruit trees. Wren licks her lips at the sight of the fresh fruit and just can’t wait to pluck a fruit for herself.

Seeing Aram’s gait slow given their proximity, Wren curiously asks, “Given how fast you travel, how come you spent more than a day in Olden-Rise?”

A tinge of rouge climbs into Arams cheeks as he embarrassingly rubs his face with his hand. “Humans have tasty food that the dwarves don't always have,” Aram embarrassingly mumbled. “Besides human villages have lots of sweets and treats.”

Wren smiles in approval of Aram’s words for only a lover of food and the true understanding that food is life would say such thing! “Excellent decision, Master! For food is life and without it we die!” Wren confidently declared.

Aram laughs out loud despite himself. It would appear that in that regard they are certainly very similar at that. Perhaps, having her as his apprentice wouldn't be such a terrible thing after all.

Having arrived at the blue painted front door, Aram mutters something inaudible under his breath. The door swings wide open on its open as Wren peeks into the home. The house is filled with well-crafted wooden furniture, fluffy pillows, a large fireplace and more importantly a large bookcase full of countless books.

Aram keeps his smile to himself at her expression as he leads her inside. Without being told what to do, Wren carefully hangs her cloak and travel bags on the hooks next to the door. While Wren eyes the wooden table before her, Aram enters the open kitchen. Opening intricately carved cupboards, Aram returns with loaves of dwarven bread, fruits, and a tiny bowl with sweets.

Placing them onto the table, Aram is unable to stop himself from grinning and says, “Sit down and eat up.” Wren leaps into a chair and practically engulfs the slightly hard bread. Not slowing down, Wren gobbles up a ripe pink fruit, before eating one more loaf of bread, and six more pink fruits, before slowing down to savor the sweets.

Wren quite enjoyed the dwarven bread, but it was a bit dry. The fruit was quite fresh and crisp, probably from the garden. And the sweets are rather milky, most likely a dwarven sweet. But what Wren couldn’t figure out, if cows and goats live on the surface, then where do the dwarves get their milk from?

 Aram eyes Wren in astonishment as he slowly eats. “Just where is she putting all that food at?” Aram wondered as he eyed Wren’s still flat stomach. Should he be worried that she would literally eat him out of his house?

 Wren chews on some sweets as she eyes her master’s home. From the corner of the wall a beautiful mechanical clock ticks away as she eyes the device in fascination. Wren had seen a mechanical clock once before, but it was tiny comparison to this one.

Aram smiles at Wren’s inquisitive expression and rises to his feet. Wren quickly does the same and grabs her things from the hanging hooks. Aram leads Wren through the hallway passing two bedrooms on each side before stopping at the third door on her right. “This will be your room from now on,” Aram said.

Wren steps inside to see a row of hanging hooks conveniently placed next to the door. On the south wall is a large wooden closet with smaller dressers on either side. In front of the enchanted glass window facing into the east is a small writing desk with a matching chair. But best of all there is a bed that looks as soft as a feather at the north wall with a small door next to it leading to the washing/facilities room.

Wren abruptly turns around and hugs her master in thanks. Aram freezes in surprise but slowly relaxes unable to recall the last time he was hugged. Aram gently pats Wren on her head and realizes that soon Wren will match his height. Coughing Aram pulls back as Wren bows and says, "Thank you for your wonderful hospitality, Master. And if you excuse me, I shall retire early to rest.”

 Aram eyes glimmer with a grin as he solemnly replies back, “"Go straight to bed for tomorrow we will start bright and early."

Wren nods in reply as Aram closes the door to her room and heads back to his own room. Aram hated to admit it, but Wren was quite stubborn. Despite their hard pace and tiring journey not once did she complain. If anything else, it showed that Wren had an incredible endurance. or

Having put her things away, Wren curls up on the bed and closes her eyes. For tomorrow, a new life would start before her. She mustn’t let his opponent go to waste, Wren thought lastly to herself before falling sound asleep.

 In her dreams, Wren finds herself in a large valley filled with swaying green grass in the breeze. Further ahead, Zarris rests with his back against a tree trunk with his eyes closed as he enjoys the soft whispering of the wind. Wren quietly approaches and takes a seat next to her father as they enjoy the silence. After some time, Zarris opens his eyes and softly begins to sing the beautiful, but forlorn lullaby of the Frost clan.

“I've been wandering through a moonless land

where skies are dark and full of rain;

Here I stand- aimlessly,

With horizons, faraway.

Memories seep- from my bones

that I dearly-- hold,

fade away, so easily,

vanishing forevermore.

Night is falling-

Starlight,

doesn't reach-

onto this endless road,

infinite, tears stream evermore.

Time slips by,

the wind blows-

Suddenly,

you are there-

Arms, open- wide, greet me,

an eternal warmth, rains,

over me-

to these memories I will hold,

nevermore letting go.

Once more,

Time flows,

-Ends the day,

Time has come, to bid farewell,

Why, must it, be-

this way-

I promise

I won't,

forget-.

This is, not goodbye,

I know, I'll see you again-

sunlit horizons,

never- far,

let us, meet- again,

under bright-

blue skies-

nevermore to part,

we will be,

together again.”

Wren intently listens to her father sing the bitter sweet melody. Zarris finishes singing and gently pulls Wren into his arms. Placing a gentle kiss onto Wren’s forehead, Zarris says, “Little one, you are now more than strong enough to be on your own and I am so very proud of you.”

 Zarris tightly holds Wren one last time, before placing one final kiss on her forehead. Soundlessly rising to his feet, Zarris raises his eyes to gaze into the distance. “Oh, my little one, how I wish I could remain here beside you, but we all have tasks to fulfill including you,” Zarris bittersweetly said. “But when the time comes, I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

 In understanding, Wren leaps to her feet and hugs her father with all her might. With moisture in his eyes Zarris bitterly returns the hug, before prying her arms from around him. With a firm gait, Zarris turns away and walks up the hill. The wind flutters gently through her hair as Wren watches her father's figure disappear over the horizon for the last time.

The sun rays burn brightly into Wren’s eyes as she blinks tears out of her eyes. Blinking rapidly Wren is startled at her foreign surroundings until she recalls the events of yesterday. Wren smiles serenely as she stretches, before climbing out of bed and reading herself for the day. Dressed and ready, Wren opens her bedroom door and steps into the hallway that brimmed with possibilities. Only time would tell what the future might bring.