The gas station hummed with the faint buzz of fluorescent lights and the occasional beep of the register. Barley, still shrunk from the earlier mishap, stood on the counter like a tiny king surveying his domain. "Ian! Grab me a protein bar! And make it one of the quest-worthy flavors—like Honeyed Hallow-nut or Mystic Mocha!"

Ian barely glanced back as he rifled through a shelf. "Barley, you're the size of a gnome. A single raisin could sustain you right now."

Barley ignored him, arms crossed, as his eyes roamed the store for any signs of excitement. The door chimed, and a cool breeze swept in, carrying the faint scent of the outdoors. Barley turned, curious, and froze.

A figure had entered, their silhouette outlined by the fading sunlight. An elf, no doubt—a striking one. Their hair caught the light just so, tumbling like silver threads or dark waves depending on the angle. Their eyes scanned the shelves with sharp precision, though a faint smile softened their expression, giving them a mysterious yet approachable vibe.

They moved with an effortless grace, their boots making barely a sound on the linoleum floor. Barley’s jaw dropped. "Ian," he hissed, tugging at his brother’s sleeve like an excited child. "Ian! Look! Over there!"

Ian glanced up briefly, unimpressed. "Someone's buying snacks. Big deal."

Barley smacked his own forehead in exasperation. "Snacks? Ian, that’s not just someone. That’s a destined companion! A fellow seeker of adventure! Look at them—they have the vibe! The aura of a true adventurer!"

The elf reached for a pack of enchanted trail mix, pausing to inspect it. Their fingers, adorned with simple yet elegant rings, drummed thoughtfully against the package. Barley’s tiny heart raced. "Ian, it’s like they’re deciding their next great journey! I have to talk to them."

Ian sighed, shoving a pack of crackers into his basket. "Fine, but can you keep it down? I’d like to get out of here without causing another—"

But Barley had already turned, clearing his throat with an exaggerated cough.