As Stela lay fast asleep on the wagon, the bracelet on her wrist flickered again, emitting a pale green light. However, neither Martha nor Martin noticed the light. In fact, it was as if the light was invisible to them!

The wagon drove past the town gate of Greenbay and stopped in front of a small inn. Bella was unfastened from the wagon and the luggage unloaded. A young boy, aged about 12 years, came up and led Bella towards the stables.

Stella woke up to see a small wooden sign which read "Faryard Inn". Martin lifted her up and held her in his arms as she blinked a few times to get accustomed to the dim light.

The inn was a small white single storied wooden house with cottage windows. Vines made their way up the wooden walls of the inn, with its dead leaves and stems littering the ground. Inside, Stela could see a small bar with wooden stools and tables. A drunk crowd seemed to be having a gala time inside...

Her father carried her in and took her to the counter. Martha followed suit, as another young boy aged about 14 years tagged along carrying Stela's trunk.

"Martin Elsher.", her father said, handing over a few papers to the receptionist.

"Room for three eh?", the receptionist answered, looking up and analyzing the trio. Confirming that there were indeed three people, he made a few notes in a ledger and took out a key from a drawer.

"Take them to Room No. 4.", he said, handing the keys to the eager 14 year old.

"That's my son, Thatcher.", he said, "Call for him if you need any assistance."

Thatcher grinned at the new guests. He was a tall, lanky brown haired boy with freckles. "Nice to meet you.", he said. Then, lifting the trunk with one hand he led the family to a staircase, a little way past the counter.

The old staircase creaked as the four of them walked up in silence, the red carpet was worn out and torn in places.

"This is one of the oldest Inns in Greenbay.", Thatcher spoke proudly, breaking the silence.

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"It's very nice.", Martha replied politely.

"You must be here to get your little girl admitted to Sherol.", the young boy continued, enthusiastically. "I studied there too.", he said cheerfully, "Though I dropped out after the third year." he added, a little wistfully.

Stela listened to the young boy talk on, she found him minutely entertaining.

"Well, here's the room.", Thatcher said, stopping in front of a door. Unlocking it, he walked in and placed the trunk in a corner. Then turning to face Martha and Martin he made a small bow. "If there's anything you need, do call me.", he said.

He pointed at what looked like a narrow cylinder with an opening at the mouth, on a table. Beside it was a small bowl with white pebbles. Picking up a pebble, he inserted into the mouth. There were a few seconds of silence before Stela heard a little clang. "Just put a little stone in here when you need me.", he concluded, smiling, before turning and walking out of the room.

Martha waited for Thatcher to leave the room before taking her handkerchief and placing it at the mouth of the cylinder. "Nifty feature, but I don't want our conversations to echo below.", she added.

Stela wriggled off her father's arms and ran around the small room. In the center of the room there was a large mattress on the ground with two worn down pillows and a blanket folded and placed on top of it. A small table with two candles and the cylinder was next to the bed. A single window with the view of the gravel street below was opposite to the door.

Stela had stayed in such humble places in her past life when she was an orphan, but it had been some time since she had experienced it. Even their small cottage in White Bridge was well furnished and equipped despite its rural and remote location. Stela ran towards her mother and hugged her leg. Her parents must've used a significant portion of their savings to send her to school.

The family of three sat around the small table and shared the remaining food they had packed and brought from home. It was only a cup of cold milk and some bread, but Stela ate it with gusto.

That night as Stela slept, she dreamt of a beautiful phoenix, with bright red flames. It cried out to her in agony and circled around her before disintegrating into ashes. Stela felt a sharp pain as the magnificent creature died. Then, a little while later, a small phoenix rose up from the ashes of the large phoenix. It encircled her before letting out a shriek and turning into ashes as well. This cycle of events kept repeating. It seemed like each time the phoenix died, its anger and hurt increased and its flames became hotter. Finally the feathers of the phoenix turned white and blue. This time the phoenix no longer encircled her but flew up onto the branch of a large tree. Stela felt its gaze pierce into her as she looked it. It no longer seemed lost and hurt, but rather indignant and proud.

In the real world, the bracelet on Stela's arm no longer flickered with a green light but turned an icy blue.

****