The tavern’s air was thick with warmth and the buzz of voices, clattering mugs, and fiddles scraping lively tunes. I sat at the bar, chin propped in my palm, watching the swirl of humanity—or what passed for it. My staff leaned against the counter, its crystal still pulsing faintly from the spell I had cast earlier to light my way through the crooked streets.

I’ve always stood out, no matter how much ale or music fills the room. Too short for a proper elf, too round and broad to pass for a dwarf. Half-blood, they whisper, though usually not where I can hear them. They don’t understand how it feels to carry both the earth’s weight in your bones and the forest’s call in your blood.

The barmaid slid me another mug with a knowing smile, and I gave her a nod of thanks. Tonight, I wasn’t here to fight for my place in the world. Tonight, I was just another adventurer, hiding in the amber glow of lanterns, listening to laughter that wasn’t mine. But my spellbook at my side reminded me: when the music stopped and the fires dimmed, magic—and perhaps destiny—was waiting for me beyond these wooden walls.