Mira and Lior stood at the entrance to their grandmother’s home, a small, charming modest house tucked away in a quiet corner of the town, surrounded by beautiful flowers. The long, tiring journey from their village had taken its toll, but the sight of the warm, inviting house in front of them lifted their spirits. The house, nestled against the backdrop of tall tree, seemed to be a world apart from the bustling streets they had just passed through.

Lior reached out to knock on the door, but before his hand even touched the wood, it swung open. Standing there was a older woman with striking white hair, her bright blue eyes shining with warmth and kindness. This was Mira’s grandmother, though Mira had never met her before.

"Come in, come in!" The older woman called out, her voice soft and welcoming, filled with an energy that suggested she had been expecting them. "I’ve been waiting for you both."

Grateful for the invitation, they stepped inside, and the contrast between the cold evening air and the cozy warmth of the cottage was immediate. The room smelled of roasting meat and fragrant herbs, and Mira couldn’t help but breathe in deeply, feeling her fatigue begin to lift. Her grandmother motioned for them to sit by the fire, her movements full of grace as she offered them a place to rest.

"You must be exhausted," she said, her eyes twinkling with understanding. "Go ahead and freshen up. I’ll get something ready for you."

Mira, still feeling the weight of the journey, glanced around the small home. The cottage felt like a snapshot of comfort—its earthy, warm tones making it feel lived-in and welcoming. The wooden furniture, though simple, was well-kept, and the walls were decorated with hanging herbs and dried flowers. It was the kind of home that immediately made you feel like you were meant to be there, embraced by the care of the person who lived in it.

Lior handed over the bundle of meat and fur he had recovered from the wolf encounter, his pride evident in his voice. "We got this from the forest. Thought you might want it."

Their grandmother took the bundle from him, her eyes lighting up as she assessed the catch. "Well done, Lior. You’re becoming quite the hunter," she said, her voice filled with approval. Then, turning to Mira with a soft smile, she added, "And you, dear, are you hungry? I could use some help in the kitchen."

Mira, eager to help and feeling the pull of the smells in the air, nodded quickly. "I’d be glad to help."

As she moved toward the hearth, Mira cast a brief glance at her grandmother. The older woman was striking, her white hair neatly pinned back in a simple yet elegant style. Her bright blue eyes, so similar to Mira’s own, sparkled with an intensity that belied her age. There was something timeless about her presence, a kind of quiet strength that filled the room, making it impossible not to feel her commanding influence. Despite the years, her aura radiated a beauty and grace that seemed to grow more potent as time went on.

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Her grandmother moved effortlessly around the kitchen, preparing a meal with ease. It was clear that she had spent years honing her skills. The room quickly filled with the mouth-watering scent of whatever she was cooking, a mixture of roasted meats, hearty stews, and fragrant herbs. Soon, the table was filled with enough food to feed an army. The sight of the spread made Mira’s stomach growl, and her grandmother settled in beside them, eager to share her stories.

As they dug into the meal, their grandmother began recounting stories about their father, Richard.

"Ah, your father," she said with a wistful smile, her gaze faraway. "He was always getting into trouble, always trying to prove himself. He never feared anything, not even the wolves. His heart was as wild as the forest he loved so much."

Lior let out a soft chuckle, his fondness for the tales clear. "He taught me well," he said, his voice laced with pride.

Their grandmother shook her head gently, her lips curving into a smile. "Yes, well, he had his faults. But that’s what made him so... fearless."

As they finished their meal, Lior set down his empty plate and stood. "I’ll be leaving in the morning," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "Got work waiting for me back home."

Mira shot him a concerned glance. "Take care on your way back. The wolves are still roaming the woods."

Lior flashed a confident grin. "I can handle myself. I’m a woodsman soldier, after all. The only reason those wolves got the better of me was because you were with me."

Mira rolled her eyes, unable to resist teasing him. "Oh, right. We get it. You’re great."

Their grandmother laughed softly, clearly entertained by the exchange. "A woodsman soldier, huh? That’s impressive, Lior. A hybrid class, isn’t it?"

Lior puffed out his chest proudly. "That’s right. Hunter and soldier. A mix of the best of both."

Mira, still trying to wrap her mind around the idea, raised an eyebrow. "Hybrid class? What does that mean?"

Her grandmother turned to her, surprised. "You don’t know? A hybrid class is something rare, something special. It’s a combination of two different skill trees, two paths that merge into something unique. It’s a difficult thing to achieve, and it gives you access to skills from both classes."

Lior’s grin widened, his pride palpable. "I’ve got the skills of both a hunter and a soldier. Pretty great, right?"

Their grandmother nodded approvingly. "Yes, I can see that. You’ve always had a good eye for hunting. And the soldier’s discipline... well, that’s from your grandfather it seems."

Mira, still processing everything, glanced at Lior, who seemed almost to glow with the pride of his hybrid abilities.

Then, her grandmother’s gaze turned soft, and she looked directly at Mira. "What is your class, Mira?"

Mira hesitated, feeling slightly awkward under the attention. After a moment, she answered, her voice quieter than usual, "It’s... lady of the kitchen."

Her grandmother blinked, clearly taken aback by the response. "A noble class? Well, that’s a first."

Mira’s heart skipped a beat. "Noble class?"

"Yes," her grandmother said slowly, choosing her words carefully. "Noble classes are rare and usually given to those with noble blood or special abilities. They’re far more powerful than the common classes, offering not only greater skills but also more opportunities. You’re likely getting it from your grandfather—he had noble blood in him, after all."

Mira’s thoughts raced. "Grandfather was a noble?"

Her grandmother nodded. "Yes, but that’s a tale for another time. For now, eat your meal. It’s getting late, and we’ll have time to talk tomorrow."

Mira sat back in her chair, trying to process everything she had just learned. A noble class? Her grandfather a noble? It felt like her world was shifting beneath her feet. She had never imagined that her life could be connected to something so extraordinary. It was all so overwhelming, and yet, in some way, it made sense. Her grandmother has been carrying herself with a kind of dignity that now seemed to fit with the idea of noble blood.

After a few more quiet words, their grandmother led them to their rooms. Mira climbed into bed, her mind still reeling from the whirlwind of information. She lay in the quiet of the room, her thoughts spinning in circles. She had so much to unpack, but one thing was certain: it was finally time to make a plan to fly again. And she had a lot more to learn—about her ring, which she hadn't been able to gather any information about regarding the rune, her own abilities, and the world she had found herself in. It was all far more complex than she had ever imagined, and she couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.