Located at the junction of the Weeping Forest and Sword Lake, at the crossroads to the north, there is a small inn that has been open for more than 100 years. Its first owner, legend has it that he was a strong man of orc blood, but he gave the inn a warm and beautiful, poetic name - Wind and Sunflower.

Despite its orc appearance—it looks like a patchwork of large, crooked houses that threaten to fall apart at the slightest push—people who live nearby and frequent travelers know that this inn has some of the tastiest black pepper mashed potatoes and the warmest and cosiest rooms in the middle of the continent.

On autumn nights, when the sky is full of stars, the inn is usually crowded. Nearby farmers and fishermen like to huddle around the counters and talk loudly, while travelers prefer to sit in sturdy, heavy, polished chairs and enjoy a delicious dinner that is hard to come across on the road.

The men at the counter laughed loudly as the wooden door, which creaked and rattled with suspicion that it would fall off the doorway with each push, was pushed open again.

"Eli, I thought you wouldn't be going out after dark until next summer!" someone laughed.

"Laugh to your heart's content! If you had seen what I saw that night, you would never have dared to go out at night in your life!" said the new guest indignantly, his huge nose striking out on his thin face.

"Forget it, Eli, it's not for nothing that the forest outside is called the 'Forest of Sorrows', and who here hasn't seen something weird and terrible in the dark, and the faint of heart can't live here. ”

The men laughed again, toasting themselves for their bravery, and the big-nosed man shook his head and muttered a curse as he squeezed through the crowded and cluttered table and chairs, ready to join his friends.

He wasn't fat, but he still had to squeeze sideways in many places, even raising his hands, and when he inadvertently rubbed off a guest's hood, he just glanced down nonchalantly, and didn't intend to apologize.

The sudden appearance of a golden yellow in his field of vision made him blink and stop. His guest with his back to him had blonde hair that was too smooth and bright for a dusty traveler, and the elven's unique pointed ears loomed through the shining blonde hair.

"The gods are above!" he cried out, "Is there an elf here?!"

The surroundings fell silent for a moment, as if a mage had suddenly cast a spell to stop time. All eyes were on the blonde hair, which was out of place with everything around them.

The blonde owner didn't look back, calmly pulled up his hood, and continued his unfinished dinner. The red-haired girl sitting across from him had her eyes wide open, and she smiled nonchalantly, even a little defiantly, at everyone.

But this is the "Wind and the Sunflowers", which has welcomed all kinds of travelers in its nearly 100-year history, some of them heinous criminals and some famous heroes, and the people here can be shocked for a moment and then be at ease.

It's just an elf. Although elves who have settled in the southern forests rarely appear here, there is really nothing to make a fuss about.

That's not a dragon!

The silence was quickly broken by a buzzing whisper, and then the noise at the counter rang out again, and the big-nosed man shook his head again, muttered an apology, and continued to squeeze towards the counter. Occasionally, a few curious glances would be directed at the elves, but no one bothered them.

After such a small episode, when the cold wind poured in through the door that had been pushed open again, and a man appeared in the doorway, many people only looked back and looked away.

It was nothing more than a mage apprentice, dressed in the rough brown robe of hooded ones they wore when they traveled, and his entire face was hidden in the shadow of the hood, revealing only his pale chin. And the people of the continent have an unwritten consensus - no matter what kind of mage they are, the best way to deal with them is to treat them as if they don't exist.

The man apparently didn't want people to notice his presence either. He found a spot in a rather remote corner, and across from him sat a middle-aged man who was drunk and sleeping there. He didn't even order the mashed potatoes for which he was famous, he just asked for a glass of ale and sat there quietly.

Tess whistled a little to get the attention of Norvi, her elven friend.

"That's not a mage. She leaned forward and said in a low voice.

"How do you know?"

"He doesn't have the slightest stench of mages on him. Tess sniffled vigorously, her little face wrinkled, and she looked like some kind of cute little animal.

"That's the smell of herbs and ingredients, Tess. Norway chuckled softly.

"Are you saying that dried bat droppings or something doesn't stink enough? Tess pondered for a moment, "It's strange, there are very few people who don't have any smell in them, especially those who are traveling. ”

"It's weird that you can smell everyone in this kind of place. Norway lowered his head and continued to savor his dinner, he wasn't very fond of mashed potatoes, but lettuce sprinkled with nuts and drizzled with hot olive oil was to his liking, "Tess, strange people are everywhere, don't care so much." ”

Tess frowned dissatisfiedly: "I didn't care, but I just wanted to tell you!"

As if in agreement, her pet mongoose, Mochi, came out of her arms and squeaked.

"Shhhhh Tess whispered a warning and pressed the mongoose's head back again.

"I guess it's forgotten who got it back in the first place. Norway deliberately dragged out his voice and sighed, in exchange for a smug smile from Tess.

"I'm the one who feeds it, plays with it, cleans up its poop, and sleeps it in my arms when it's cold!" the red-haired girl gently patted the slightly bulging bag in her arms, "It's smart and knows who the real owner is." ”

They quickly went upstairs and returned to their rooms. As the door closed, Tess couldn't help but glance down again, and the mage who wasn't a mage was still sitting in that small corner. The hall was noisy, but the temperature around him seemed to be much cooler than the rest of the place.

"Strange people. Tess whispered, but whatever he was, their journey was coming to an end, and now was not a good time to meddle.