Tári grew up as an ordinary girl, until, on her adoptive family's deathbed, the existence of a letter urging her to return to her homeland was revealed to her. To do so, however, she must prove her loyalty by completing a series of trials.
On her jo...
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She did not reach Drizzle until two days later, after a gentle journey in which she encountered no obstacles, only a few travelers and relatively pleasant weather, though the grief of her recent loss tainted the purity of all that surrounded her.
Drizzle was a rather large town and one of the best for trade. For this reason, there were no cultivated fields or mills—only shops, bakeries, blacksmiths, and as many professions as one could imagine. Moreover, given the steady influx of visitors, the locals were talkative and hospitable, so Tári found it easy to get information on where she could spend the night. She also asked those she encountered if they knew of Ludovh, but no one recognized the name. Disheartened, she grew more and more convinced she had come to the wrong town. But no matter how many times she read the letter and checked her maps, there was only one Drizzle, and it was the very one she stood in.
Near sunset, a light drizzle began to fall, and although at first it was not bothersome, it soon soaked through her clothes, forcing her to find shelter. Someone had mentioned a cozy inn nearby, so she followed their directions until she reached its entrance, where a large sign carved from pearly wood glistened with raindrops. In elegant, calligraphic letters, it read 'Fardok.' She stepped inside, found a table in a quiet corner, and ate a piece of meat in silence, though she had hardly been hungry for days. With her first goal accomplished, she caught the innkeeper's eye—a tall, sturdy man with dark blond hair.
"Good afternoon." She offered him a nervous smile. "Who should I speak to about reserving a room?"
"Miss, you're talking to the right man, as I am Fardok himself." He gestured to himself with his thumb, proudly. "In whose name should I reserve the room?" he asked in a deep voice, his intonation warm as he placed his hands on his hips and looked at her with interest
"Tári. My name is Tári Gryll," she replied shyly.
"Wait! You already have a reserved and paid room." The innkeeper pulled out the chair across from her, sitting on its edge, legs spread apart, as he dried his hands on his apron. "A few days ago, a man came asking if you'd reached Drizzle yet. As you hadn't arrived, he kept one of the best rooms for you."
"A man? Do you know where I might find him?" she asked quickly.
"He left town recently, not even two days ago, but he asked me to assist you." He scratched his mustache thoughtfully. "How can I help you, miss?"
"First, I'd like to know if he gave you any names or information on where I might find him." She felt her heart quicken.
"No, he didn't give me his name. I don't know his origin or any other details that might be of help."
"Alright." She paused for a few seconds, then asked, "One last thing—I need to speak to Ludovh. Do you know him?"
"Ludovh? Yes, I had the fortune to know him, but I'm afraid I can't be of much help there. He passed away years ago, and no one knew the secrets he kept, except for his one rather strange apprentice." His face, usually flushed and cheerful, suddenly grew tense, losing some of its color.
