See Blindly

In her world, where colors remain unseen, a solitary and delicate figure emerged. Her white hair, strands of moonlight softly cascading over her shoulders, evoked a unique serenity, standing out in the vastness of the forest.

Beside her, a lone tree trunk served as a seat. Gracefully, the figure sat, pulled out a wooden flute from her bag, and prepared to create a melody that would extend to the farthest corners of the forest, where life pulses in hidden colors. Under the golden sun, enchanted paths wound between the trees, and the leaves bathed in deep green. Fireflies and beetles emitted a sky-blue glow, illuminating the forest with a magical atmosphere.

Clear ponds, home to iridescent fish, completed the scene. At the center of this splendor lay a small human figure, a boy with sun-kissed skin, peacefully sleeping, rooted in the earth. He dressed simply, in harmony with the forest around him. His clothes, made of natural and durable fabrics, had shades of moss green and earthy brown, blending almost perfectly with the landscape. His short-sleeved shirt, made of lightweight fabric, showed signs of wear but was clean and well-maintained. His shorts, ending just above his knees, allowed freedom of movement, essential for exploring the surroundings. On his feet, he wore simple leather sandals, worn but comfortable. Around his neck hung a leather cord with a small wooden amulet.

Upon waking, his deep, dark eyes met a bold sunbeam that slipped through the leaves to touch his face. A distant melody, the soft sound of a flute, reached his ears, bringing a smile to his lips.

Driven by curiosity, he rose, brushed a leaf from his hair, and set off in the direction of the music. With each step, the forest seemed to sing to him, and his anxiety turned into awe.

As he parted the leaves with his small hands, he saw a woman with her back to him, her white hair gleaming in the dim light. Her skin, visible beneath her garments, glowed like porcelain in the twilight. Red symbols on her back emitted a mysterious glow, mesmerizing the boy with their unusual beauty, while lights danced around her like an animated glass statue.

The woman's clothes revealed her nature as a traveler. Simple, made of worn leather, without adornments, her garments were practical but fit her body perfectly. The backpack she carried, packed with items and camping gear, evidenced a nomadic life.

The boy, watching from afar, struggled internally over how to approach her. Raised in isolation at the top of a valley with his older brother, he had never interacted with other humans. Insecurity flooded him as he pondered how this first encounter would be. Suddenly, the music stopped, and the woman spoke as if sensing his presence:

"Are you waiting for the right moment to approach?"

The boy's heart raced. His brother had told him about people who devoted their lives to the knowledge of mystical abilities. "Could she be one of those people?"

"Yes, I have some abilities," she confirmed, catching his thoughts.

The boy's curiosity outweighed his fear. He wanted to understand more, but before he could formulate his questions, she spoke again:

"How long will you hide?"

Inspired by youthful courage, he took a step forward. His heart pounded in his ears as he cautiously approached the woman from behind.

She remained still, the symbol on her back, once shimmering and vibrant, now softly pulsing as if the reflected light danced in harmony with her stillness.

"Though it seems like an incredible ability..."

The boy slowly circled around the woman, eager to face her directly.

"... I ended up losing a lot."

The boy's wide-eyed admiration faded into a more serious and reflective expression. His furrowed brows showed compassion, and a flicker of sadness mixed with his curiosity.

He stood still, observing the woman's face closely-a blend of strength and delicacy that captivated anyone who gazed upon her. She slowly lifted her head, revealing a face that told silent stories of timeless beauty. Her face was dominated by the absence of eyes; there were only soft, enigmatic cavities, somehow increasing her charisma. Scars around her neck, deep and pronounced, spoke of a past filled with suffering, like remnants of ropes that once bound her, now intertwined with her identity. With a delicate motion, she set the flute aside and spoke:

"Do not pity me, little one. What I have lived through is in the past," she sighed, a soft smile forming on her lips.

Her gaze, though gentle, gained an intense quality, reflecting an unbreakable resilience.

In his youthful innocence, the boy longed to understand more but hesitated, unsure how to question her. She smiled, understanding his curiosity, and with the lightness of a feather, traced a figure in the air with her fingers.

"When someone absorbs the power of a beast, that power becomes an Arcane, a symbol that manifests randomly on the body. To fully activate the Arcane's abilities, it must be exposed; if it is covered, it may not function or may have reduced effectiveness."

The boy, brimming with questions, spoke with a mixture of admiration and sadness:

"It's incredible... but your eyes... What happened to them?"

She could understand all the boy's questions, even those he could not express due to his anxiety. He had many questions, some repeated, but she answered them all at once because she could read his mind. Questions like why her hair was so white were among them.

"For a long time, I lived in the shadows; my world lost its color, and my hair turned white, but I learned to feel the world in a different way. I began to perceive unspoken thoughts, to sense the subtle resonance of the soil, the dance of leaves in the wind, the careful rhythm of human footsteps. I tune into the vibration of every particle, which allows me to know exactly where everything is at all times."

With more questions than before, the boy, his eyes reflecting a sea of curiosity, asked:

"How did you acquire these abilities?"

The woman, with an enigmatic smile, delved into distant memories:

"My journey began with words that changed everything. At sunrise, one day, an unsettling clarity took hold of me, expanding my perception beyond the ordinary. I saw the world in unimaginable detail."

She paused, her mind drifting to the past, reliving every fragment of her story, marked by scars and dark memories. The good memories seemed overshadowed by the echoes of a torturous past. Now, she reflected on it all-from the day she was born to the moments that led her here.

A crucial chapter of that past unfolded in her mind. A catastrophic storm, powerful enough to destroy a ship, ravaged the sea. The waves, rising like furious monsters, threatened the vessel. The captain, a man hardened by the sea, gazed at the horizon with a resigned look, aware of the grim fate that approached.

Yet, above the roar of the storm, a cry of life broke through. Frey, in the throes of labor, radiated an otherworldly strength. An Arcane symbol glowed brightly on her forehead, forming an angelic halo around her red hair, which floated wildly in the wind. In her quarters, golden armor, long untouched, stood as a silent witness to her warrior past, a reminder of who Frey once was.

With a gesture of strength and determination, Frey raised her hands, and a luminous barrier formed around the ship. It was a translucent, radiant shield, its golden gleams cutting through the storm's darkness, bathing the deck in divine light. The barrier repelled the giant waves crashing against it, disintegrating them into thousands of sparkling droplets.

The nurses beside Frey watched in awe and fear. The storm, which seemed destined to destroy everything in its path, was now contained by a force that defied nature itself.

When the newborn's cry was finally heard, the tumultuous waves calmed, and a serene beam of light pierced the stormy clouds. The captain, his face marked by the hardships of the sea, ordered an inspection of the ship with amazement. Against all odds, the vessel remained intact.

Aboard, the newborn girl, with red hair and golden eyes, symbolized a new beginning. She was the living image of her mother, Frey, with an uncanny resemblance that transcended mere physical appearance. The nurse, cradling the baby, asked Frey for a name. Faced with the mother's silence, she insisted, but soon encountered the harsh reality. Frey, exhausted from her heroic effort, lay lifeless, deprived of her daughter's touch. Tears mingled with the nurse's grief, now the only guardian of the child.

When morning dawned after the storm, bathing the port of Waterford with the first rays of the sun, the ship that had survived the night's fury docked with a sigh of relief. The captain, a man whose life was intertwined with the sea, disembarked with a tangible sense of gratitude.

Beside the captain, still feeling the sway of the waves under his feet, stood Ivar Hell, radiating confidence and refinement. The fine leather gloves adorning his hands spoke of meticulous care, a mark of those who not only possess wealth but know how to preserve it.

Ivar's brown hair, tied in a stylish ponytail, added a touch of practical elegance to his appearance. It contrasted interestingly with his face, which displayed strong and determined features. His piercing blue eyes, lively and analytical, examined every detail of the port with a curiosity that transcended the ordinary.

Dressed in a combination of simplicity and luxury, Ivar wore finely tailored clothes, revealing a sophisticated taste without veering into ostentation. In his hand, he held a leather-bound notebook of unquestionable quality, cherished as if each page contained precious secrets and valuable discoveries.

Even in the rustic and bustling environment of the port, Ivar stood out as a figure belonging to another world-a world of wealth and refinement, but one that, by choice, immersed itself in the raw and uncomplicated reality of life at sea.

Startled by an unexpected encounter, Ivar exclaimed, "Aaah!" He nearly lost his balance on the edge of the dock, thrown off by a bump from a young lady tenderly carrying a baby. She was dressed in a way that reflected both her profession as a nurse and her personality.

She wore a light blue cotton dress, long and flowing, complemented by a white apron with practical pockets. A scarf with delicate floral patterns adorned her neck, adding a touch of color to her outfit. Her brown hair was efficiently braided, framing her freckled cheeks, and she wore comfortable leather shoes, ideal for her long shifts of work.

"Forgive me, I was trying to pull my suitcase with one hand and lost my balance," she explained, trying to balance the large suitcase and the child.

"No, I apologize. Let me help you with your suitcase; just take care of your daughter," Ivar promptly replied, extending his hand to grab the suitcase.

"Thank you for your help. This little one is surprisingly heavy," sighed the nurse, looking lovingly at the child in her arms. After a brief pause, she added softly, "She isn't really my daughter." The words were spoken with the same courage she had demonstrated during Frey's childbirth.

Ivar, initially confused, glanced at a still silhouette wrapped in cloth on the deck, and a somber understanding dawned on him. The body lay with respect, waiting silently to be taken away, an expressive image in its quiet stillness.

"What is her name?" he asked, his voice filled with subtle empathy.

"She doesn't have a name yet... her mother passed away before she could give her one. I'm grateful to her; she saved my life and allowed me to accompany her, and well... here I am. I need to find this little one's family," the nurse said, a veil of sadness covering her eyes.

"Let's disembark. I'll help you. Ah, by the way, my name is Ivar Hell. And what would your name be?"

"Thank you so much, my name is Astri Henni," she replied, a smile lighting up her face and her eyes narrowing slightly in gratitude.

In that moment, in the presence of that smile, Ivar felt an inexplicable connection, a warmth in his chest. He felt inspired not only to help her disembark. The adventure he sought could wait; in fact, it had already become an adventure-a smile that would etch itself into his memories and dreams.

Walking through the vibrant city, the contagious energy of its inhabitants was palpable. Fishermen laughed loudly and exchanged jokes, while amused guards watched the friendly interactions. Bards filled the air with cheerful melodies, and street vendors promoted their goods with great enthusiasm. Some tried to lure Ivar into the deeper corners of the markets, amplifying the feeling of contagious energy that permeated the place.

It was an idyllic setting, bathed in the gentle sound of waves and illuminated by a kind sun. The abundance of fresh produce was evident, and the welcoming atmosphere suggested a peaceful place, ideal for living. For Ivar and Astri, the immediate task was to find accommodations for the nights to come.

In the bustling streets of Waterford, where prosperity and poverty coexisted, Ivar and Astri found themselves before a striking contrast. A beggar, with tired eyes and hands that told stories of hard days, approached Ivar, extending his worn palm.

Ivar, with a compassionate gesture, slid his gloved hands into his pockets, searching for a few coins. To his surprise, his fingers, still protected by the fine leather gloves, found only the empty fabric of his pockets-a rarity for someone of his status.

Undeterred, Ivar smiled generously and said to the man, "Sir, how about we go to that tent? I'll buy you some food." His offer reflected genuine kindness.

The beggar, however, wrinkled his nose and retorted with a tone of disdain, "Food? I want a drink! These youngsters nowadays..." And with a grunt, he walked away, rejecting the unexpected offer.

Ivar exchanged a surprised look with Astri. They laughed together, their laughter blending harmoniously with the sounds and energy of the city, finding lightness and humor amidst the small ironies of urban life.

In the midst of the picturesque scene, a luxurious tavern with purple and blue lights gleaming through the windows caught their attention. Ivar, not missing the chance to show off a bit of his wealth, decided:

"We'll spend the night at the Northern Lynx Tavern," he announced, his chest puffed with confidence.

Astri, enchanted by the radiant glow of the tavern, nodded with a smile to the child in her arms.

Upon entering the tavern, they were immediately enveloped by an atmosphere even more spectacular than the exterior suggested. Bursts of colored smoke emanated from every corner, creating an air of magic and chaos. Children ran around joyfully, their laughter mixing with the sounds of adults in animated debates.

In one corner, two dwarves argued heatedly over who was taller, with only a 0.5-centimeter difference between them. The debate centered around posture versus actual height.

At the epicenter of the chaos was a disheveled alchemist who, with a magical wand, released more of that colorful smoke, filling the place with an air of untamed magic.

At the heart of the Northern Lynx Tavern, the bartender stood out as an imposing figure. His dark skin glistened under the tavern's lights, contrasting with the gleam of the mugs he skillfully polished. Bald, his head reflected the ambient light, enhancing his striking presence. His arms, displaying defined muscles, moved with a force and dexterity that impressed. Each of his gestures, whether serving or cleaning the counter, was done with the efficiency that came from years of experience in the trade.

His face, though often serious due to the task of maintaining order in the chaotic tavern, was occasionally illuminated by a genuine and captivating smile, revealing a warm personality behind the imposing exterior. He wore a thick leather apron that covered part of his muscular torso, practical and durable, suitable for the busy work of such a bustling establishment.

When he spoke, his voice was deep and resonant, commanding respect and attention. He wasn't just the bartender of the tavern but a central figure in its dynamic, known and respected by both regular customers and newcomers alike.

At the Northern Lynx Tavern, Ivar and Astri were greeted by the sturdy bartender, who softened his serious expression with a welcoming nod.

"Good evening, travelers!" greeted the bartender while polishing a mug. "What can I do for you?"

"Two accommodations for tonight, please," said Ivar, maintaining a confident smile. He then removed the leather glove from his right hand and, with a natural gesture, reached into his coat pocket. In a surprising move, especially for Astri who was watching, he pulled out a few coins, despite the pocket seeming empty moments before. He subtly placed the coins on the counter, acting as if nothing unusual had happened. After paying, he put the glove back on, his expression calm and nonchalant.

"Everything's ready," Ivar announced, turning to Astri with a twinkle in his eye. He had secured the rooms and secretly hoped it would impress her.

As they ascended the creaky stairs, they passed waitresses hurrying down, carrying trays of empty mugs. They cast quick glances at Ivar and Astri but were too busy to react before continuing on their way.

Reaching the hallway of the rooms, Ivar looked at Astri and commented with an ironic smile, "This place is definitely lively."

Astri laughed, agreeing with a nod. Before heading to her room, she cast one last glance at the sleeping child in her arms. Cradled by the gentle movements and sounds of the tavern, the little one slept peacefully, completely unaware of the bustling activity around her. With a loving gesture, Astri adjusted the blanket wrapped around the girl, ensuring her comfort and warmth for the night.

Astri left the tavern at dawn, determined to uncover more about Frey. She spent days searching for information, but no one seemed to know anything concrete. Some whispered that even mentioning Frey's name brought bad luck, while others trembled at the sound of it. Persistent, Astri combed through libraries and spoke to many people until she finally learned that Frey's family was made up of fierce warriors, known for their lack of empathy. She knew that if she ever had to face them, convincing them that the child was truly Frey's would be a monumental challenge.

With this heavy truth in mind, Astri continued her search. The next morning, she made her way to the city's most renowned orphanage, with the rising sun lighting her path. What she found was disheartening: overcrowded and in poor condition. A chill ran down her spine at the thought of Frey ever allowing her child to stay in such a place. The memory of the relentless warrior, whose voice could make her mind almost lose consciousness, still haunted her.

Shaking her head, Astri resolved to do the best she could. She knew she wasn't in a position to take the child to her biological family, possibly Frey's relatives, but she would make sure that whoever adopted the girl would know exactly where she came from. Frey would never forgive her otherwise.

A few weeks later...

After numerous visits to various families, each of Astri's attempts seemed to end in disappointment. Discouragement began to set in, but she persisted, even though her initial enthusiasm had waned.

Several months later...

The bond between Astri and the child had grown so strong that she began unconsciously sabotaging adoption chances, finding faults in the families interested.

With a humble family:

Astri: "You have a lot of love to give."

Humble Mother: "Yes, love is something we have in abundance."

Astri thought: "But what about the resources to raise a child?"

Astri: "Love is essential, but it's not everything. A child needs stability and opportunities."

Visiting a family that seemed very wealthy:

Astri: "Are you interested in adoption?"

Rich Father: "Yes, we want to offer her the best of everything."

Astri thought: "Wouldn't that deprive her of simpler values?"

Astri: "Materially, it seems perfect. But it's crucial to teach her about humility and gratitude."

Finally, with an apparently ideal family:

Astri: "You seem like the perfect family."

"Perfect" Father: "We strive to provide a balanced environment."

Astri thought: "Such perfection can be suffocating."

Astri: "Balance is good, but it's important that the child learns about real life, with its ups and downs."

Back at the Northern Lynx Tavern, as Ivar observed Astri in her emotional journey, Frey's story resurfaced. Frey had been a warrior fugitive from distant lands, whose life had been marked by hardships and mysteries. Astri had promised herself she would find a safe and loving home for the child, a place where she could grow free from the shadows that haunted her mother.

Months passed at the Northern Lynx Tavern, and Ivar, who had been following and assisting Astri in her search for a family for the child, found himself on an especially lively day. While exploring the city market and making notes in his notebook, one thought consumed him-he was hopelessly in love with Astri, and today was the day to take a decisive step.

In the Golden Griffin Jewelry Store, Ivar was promptly attended by Sigurd, a jeweler whose appearance was as remarkable as it was unusual. Although his hair was black, giving him a more youthful look, the lines on his face spoke of a long and lived life. His physique was surprisingly athletic for a man his age, suggesting that in other times, he might have followed a very different path than that of a jeweler.

There was something in his sharp gaze and firm posture that conveyed a sense of strength and power, almost as if he harbored secrets from a past life filled with adventures. Yet, despite this aura of untapped potential, Sigurd seemed perfectly content in his peaceful life, dedicating himself with skill and precision to his work with jewels.

"Welcome, sir! I'm Sigurd. What can I offer you today?" he asked, with a hint of curiosity in his voice.

"I'm looking for the most expensive ring you have," declared Ivar, his voice resonating with unshakable certainty.

Sigurd, slightly surprised but recovering quickly, presented the splendid Lif Ring. The jewel displayed a dazzling blue diamond, its brilliance reminiscent of the ocean's depths, set in a design that spoke of refinement and exclusivity.

"That's perfect. I want it," Ivar stated, completely captivated by the piece.

"That will be twenty thousand auors," informed Sigurd, watching Ivar's reaction.

Without hesitation, Ivar opened a considerably large pouch, revealing an impressive amount of auor coins that gleamed in the store's light. He carefully counted the payment and handed it to Sigurd, who could hardly believe the sale he had just made.

Sensing an opportunity, Sigurd quickly offered more:

"How about complementing this magnificent ring with a romantic dinner? We have connections with the best restaurants in the city."

"That sounds excellent," replied Ivar, excited by the idea.

"And a luxury carriage for the occasion? Perhaps musicians for a serenade?" Sigurd suggested enthusiastically.

"Yes, include everything," Ivar agreed, caught up in the moment.

"Flowers too, sir? To give a special touch?" Sigurd was already frantically making notes.

"Certainly, flowers as well. Let's make this night unforgettable," affirmed Ivar with a smile.

With an enthusiastic nod, Sigurd concluded: "It will be a memorable night, Mr. Ivar. I'll take care of all the details!"

Ivar left the Golden Griffin Jewelry Store with a lighter pouch but a heart full of expectations for the special night he was planning for Astri. The Lif Ring now rested securely in his coat pocket, its brilliance contained within a velvet box, waiting for the perfect moment.

After leaving the jewelry store, Sigurd remained alone with his newly acquired fortune. He began to toy with the coins, letting them slide through his fingers. Twenty thousand auors-a sum of money that most could only dream of. A common family could live comfortably for years with such an amount. The reality of this wealth in his hands made Sigurd's eyes gleam with intense greed.

Sigurd had always been a man of modest ambitions, content with the quiet life of a jeweler. But at that moment, holding a fortune, something inside him awakened. For the first time, he tasted the true power that wealth could bring, a feeling that ignited his imagination with possibilities he had never considered before.

He pondered the great things he could now accomplish, the dreams that had once seemed distant and unattainable suddenly within reach. The weight of the coins seemed to confer a new status, a new identity upon him. Sigurd was no longer just a jeweler; he was now a man with the power to shape his own destiny.

Greed, a feeling previously foreign to him, began to take form, filling him with bold ideas and ambitious plans. In that moment of revelation, Sigurd realized that his life would never be the same. The sale of the Lif Ring had not just been a business transaction; it was the beginning of a new chapter in his existence.

The day still had a few hours left when Ivar decided to make one last stop: a visit to the most prestigious tailor in town, known as "Boar's Leather." There, he selected new clothing of unquestionable elegance. His choice was motivated by an unpleasant memory of once being deceived by lower-quality garments sold as if they were high-end.

As the day gave way to night, Ivar, now dressed in his newly purchased coat, felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. The Lif Ring, tucked into the pocket of his new coat, emitted a discreet glow, contained by the velvet box that held it.

Earlier, in a somewhat mysterious and hurried manner, Ivar had extended an invitation for Astri to dine with him, without revealing too many details. With an enigmatic instruction, he had told her to meet him "when the sun could no longer be seen."

To Astri's surprise and delight, a stunning dress had discreetly been delivered to her room-a thoughtful and elegant gift from Ivar. She donned the luxurious garment, which gracefully accentuated her figure with a touch of sophistication. Her hair, left loose, swayed gently with her movements. Though the gesture felt a bit cliché, she found it amusing, especially when she noticed the address of the place written on the back of the card. She laughed to herself, thinking, What kind of enigma gives the answer on the back?

When night finally cloaked the city and the sun disappeared over the horizon, Astri arrived at the restaurant Ivar had chosen. Upon seeing her, Ivar immediately stood up, his heart pounding in his chest. With a kind gesture, he pulled out a chair to seat her.

"You look beautiful, Astri," Ivar commented, his voice filled with a mixture of admiration and emotion. The serious look on his face reflected the whirlwind of feelings he harbored inside, a glimpse of the deep passion he nurtured for her.

The night unfolded under a veil of joy and warm hospitality. Laughter filled the air as Ivar and Astri savored dishes of unmatched refinement. Soft music, played by skilled bards, created the perfect soundscape for the evening. The conversation flowed effortlessly, filled with laughter and meaningful exchanges, every word strengthening the growing bond between them.

As the excitement of the night reached its peak, Ivar suddenly stood up, his heart racing. The anxiety and anticipation were clear in his eyes. With a gesture full of meaning, he knelt before Astri and opened the small velvet box containing the ring. The blue diamond within it sparkled, capturing Astri's attention with its enchanting glow.

"Ivar, what are you..." Astri began, her words interrupted by the intense and passionate look in Ivar's eyes.

"Astri," he started, his voice trembling. "Will you marry me?"

Astri's response came in the form of tears of joy and an enthusiastic nod. "Yes," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. The passionate kiss that followed sealed the promise of a shared future, enveloping them in an atmosphere of pure magic.

The night turned into a spectacle worthy of a fairy tale, and the room they shared at the inn became a sanctuary of love and promises. They fell asleep intertwined, wrapped in a deep sense of unity and completeness.

Moonlight peeked through the window, bathing the room in its silvery glow, illuminating everything from the water pitcher to the soft bed that now cradled their love. The moon seemed to bless their union, making the night even more magical.

With the arrival of dawn, the golden light of the sun began to fill the room, marking the start of a new day. Astri was the first to wake, a radiant smile on her face as she looked at Ivar still sleeping beside her. Careful not to wake him, she dressed and quietly left to retrieve Frey's child, who had spent the night under the care of the bartender.

The laughter and welcoming energy of the inn filled the air. The little girl, with her red hair and amber eyes, played joyfully with the bartender's children, who treated her with a mix of affection and protection.

Astri picked the child up in her arms, feeling a strong maternal instinct. She promised herself that she would care for the girl as if she were her own daughter. However, she knew it was time to give the child a name, an important step in beginning a new chapter in their lives. With tenderness, Astri whispered a name, a symbol of belonging and identity for the girl:

"You will be called Mey Hell, little one," Astri announced, her voice vibrating with happiness as she held the girl in her arms. The name, carefully chosen, seemed perfectly fitting. Now that she was engaged to Ivar, Astri realized that she, too, would likely take on the Hell family name. The thought of her daughter sharing that name filled her with pride. She smiled to herself, knowing that calling the girl by their future family name would likely surprise Ivar in a way he hadn't expected.

Mey responded with a radiant smile, a pure reflection of childlike joy that reaffirmed Astri's choice. A bond that promised to grow even stronger with time.

That day, Astri left the inn with a sense of renewal. The place, with its cozy atmosphere and the constant buzz of patrons, was left behind as she walked through the city's streets. The markets were full of the scents of exotic spices and murmurs of unfamiliar conversations, creating a vibrant and lively environment.

A charming idea came to her mind: to surprise Ivar with a special breakfast. The thought filled her heart with joy. It would be a simple gesture but filled with love and care, a way to celebrate the beginning of a new life together. They were no longer just visitors in that city; it was where they would begin building their home, weaving their stories and dreams. It was there, together, that they would shape a future full of love and happiness.

As she walked, Astri planned every detail of the breakfast, every smile they would share, every word they would exchange. With Mey nestled in her arms, she knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face everything together as a family.

And so, with the soft light of dawn bathing the streets, Astri headed to the market, her heart brimming with hope and anticipation for the future that awaited them.

As Astri walked through the bustling morning market, the scent of freshly baked bread and roasted coffee beans filled the air. She moved with purpose, carefully selecting the best ingredients for the breakfast she planned to surprise Ivar with. She picked out ripe fruits, a few pastries still warm from the oven, and a bottle of fresh milk. Mey, tucked in her arms, giggled as they passed by colorful stalls, fascinated by the lively activity around them.

Astri couldn't help but smile as she imagined the look on Ivar's face when he woke to the spread of food she'd prepared. It wasn't just about the meal-it was a gesture of love, a small celebration of their new beginning. After gathering everything she needed, she turned back towards the inn, Mey's laughter filling the quiet spaces between her thoughts.

As she approached the Northern Lynx Tavern, a faint sense of peace settled over her. She looked down at Mey, whose bright eyes reflected the innocence of a child who had known love even in the midst of chaos. Astri felt a protective surge as she gazed at the girl, knowing that this journey-full of uncertainty and challenges-had ultimately brought her here, to this moment of newfound purpose.

Stepping quietly into their room, she saw Ivar stirring in bed, his face relaxed and peaceful. He woke slowly, his eyes adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the window. When he noticed Astri standing in the doorway, a basket of food in her hands and Mey giggling in her arms, his heart swelled with warmth.

"Good morning," Astri whispered with a smile, setting the basket down on the small wooden table by the window. "I thought you might like a little surprise."

Ivar stretched and sat up, running a hand through his hair as he smiled back at her. "You're spoiling me already," he teased, his voice still heavy with sleep.

"I figured you deserved it," Astri replied softly. "After all, you gave me quite the surprise last night."

"Thank you," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. He reached out to take her hand, pulling her gently toward him. "Not just for the breakfast, but for everything. For being here, for Mey, for saying yes."

Astri blushed, feeling the weight of his words and the sincerity behind them. "I should be the one thanking you," she said, her eyes softening. "For giving me a reason to believe again. For this new beginning."

As they sat together, sharing the meal in the quiet intimacy of the morning, it was as though the world had shrunk down to just the three of them. There was a sense of completeness that neither Ivar nor Astri had expected to find so soon, and yet it felt natural, as though this was always how it was meant to be.