The sun had barely risen when Bruno realized the mistake he had made:
accepting Anaalyn's invitation.
"So… it was for yesterday, huh?" he muttered, adjusting the backpack on his shoulders and glancing at the village gate.
Ahead of him, Anaalyn looked far too cheerful for someone who had dragged a tired warrior out before dawn.
"Of course! If we leave now, we'll get there by lunchtime! And I want you to cook when we arrive, got it?"
"You invited me to cook or to escort you into a hole full of angry dwarves?" Bruno replied, scratching his neck.
"Depends on how you look at it. To me, it's two for the price of one."
She turned with a mischievous smile, as if this were the best plan in the world.
Above them, Kearlin floated lazily, spinning in the air, boredom audible even in his invisible voice.
"Bruno, you realize you agreed to travel for days with someone who's been talking since sunrise, right? Are you sure you're the same Bruno who fought dragons?"
"Even you think that, huh… I've been tortured before. Listening to someone overly energetic tell stories I already know is nothing."
"We'll see about that… but why?"
"Why what?"
"In one month you've changed a lot. Different from thirteen years ago. I know a lot happened, but you've changed in a strange way," Kearlin said, floating in circles.
"Because it's not a simple question. I'm tired of fighting. But that's a talk for later. These conversations don't help me much… I've suffered plenty, but I've never really changed."
The cold wind crossed the stone path, and for a moment Kearlin was silent, watching Bruno walk ahead — his gaze distant, yet steady.
"Yeah… maybe that's exactly the problem," he murmured before vanishing into the mist that followed the group.
Anaalyn, a few steps ahead, looked over her shoulder.
"Talking to yourself again, Bruno?"
"Always," he answered, and kept walking.
The road seemed quiet.
The sound of footsteps on damp earth mingled with the rustling of leaves in the trees. Neither of them spoke — not Bruno, not Anaalyn. Only the wind talked between them.
Strange… Bruno thought. I thought Anaalyn would be talking nonstop. She seems quiet… too quiet. She hasn't even looked at me since we left. Curious? Or worried?
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. She was walking with her gaze fixed on the road, fingers toying with the pendant hanging from her neck. She seemed to be trying to hide her anxiety.
Inside, Anaalyn took a deep breath, trying to keep her face calm, but her mind was chaos.
Ahh, please, grandma, mom, sister… and especially uncle… don't embarrass me. I still remember everyone's reaction when I said I was in love and moving away…
She nearly tripped over a branch remembering the laughter, the teasing, the endless questions.
"Who is he?" "Is he really human?" "Are you sure he's not a fraud?" "Who's the bastard?"
Her face flushed just imagining it happening again.
Bruno noticed her stumble and raised an eyebrow.
"You okay there?"
"Y-yeah! Totally fine!" she replied too quickly, fixing her hair. "Just… looking at the road."
"You've been looking at the same road for an hour."
"It's an interesting road!"
Bruno let out a soft sigh.
"It's gonna be a long trip…"
"You have no idea," she whispered under her breath, embarrassed.
Finally, the outline of a village appeared on the horizon — small stone houses, thin trails of smoke from chimneys, surrounded by hills and distant forges.
But before Bruno and Anaalyn could get any closer, they had already been spotted.
"Damn it, she did say she'd arrive today… we've been waiting here thirty minutes already!" complained a younger dwarf girl, holding binoculars nearly as big as her head.
"Watch your mouth, brat," said another, a bit older, with a suspicious glint in her eyes. "Let's wait properly. I want to see this boy with my own eyes."
"If that bastard looks dangerous, he'll feel the wrath of the dwarves!" roared a burly dwarf, thumping his chest — which only made his belly jiggle comically.
"Wrath of the dwarves?" the younger one mocked, laughing. "You'll scare him with what, the sound of your stomach growling?"
"Hey!" the dwarf huffed. "This is pure battle muscle!"
"Yeah, sure… battle against dinner."
The oldest dwarf sighed, rubbing her face in exasperation.
"For the love of your dead brother, have some patience. She barely said anything about him. Let's wait and see who this human is before doing something stupid."
The group fell silent for a moment. Only the wind and the faint clinking of tools at their belts could be heard.
But the silence didn't last.
"Do you think he's handsome?" the youngest asked softly.
"If he is, that's already dangerous," replied the middle one with a mischievous smile. "Anaalyn's always had… peculiar taste."
"Enough gossip," the youngest muttered, snatching the binoculars from the older one's hands impatiently.
She adjusted them, squinting to focus on the road ahead.
But as soon as the two figures appeared in view, her smile vanished.
"He… he's… he's really…"
"Spit it out, girl!" the uncle growled, folding his arms.
"He's hot!"
"WHAT?!" the dwarf nearly choked, snatching the binoculars from her hands. "Let me see that nonsense!"
He looked for two seconds — and his eyes went wide.
"He's more like scary! Ugh! And… well, maybe a little… strong."
"A little?" the niece laughed, trying to grab the binoculars back. "That kind of strong is exactly my type!"
"Wretch! He's not even wearing proper clothes! Look at that! Looks like a war drifter! And tall… tall as a barn door! Wait — I think I've seen him before…"
While the two fought over the binoculars, the other two dwarves — the eldest and the middle one — stood frozen, staring at the road as if they'd seen a ghost.
"Hey… what is it?" the youngest asked, still wrestling with her uncle.
The eldest swallowed hard, her expression unreadable.
"Could it be…?" she murmured.
The middle one whispered, "Bruno."
Finally, they arrived — unhurried.
Anaalyn walked like someone returning home after a lifetime away, and perhaps that was exactly it. The sound of hammers echoed from the forges, the scent of iron and coal mixing with fresh bread in the air. Bruno observed everything quietly, curious.
Some dwarves stopped their work just to stare — some out of curiosity, others out of discomfort. He was too tall, too silent, too human.
"This is my home," Anaalyn said, pointing to a small stone-and-wood house with a mossy garden and lilac flowers. "Don't know if you've seen it before… it's small, but cozy."
Bruno smiled faintly.
"Fits you."
But before he could say anything else, the door burst open — and a small, fast blur shot forward, crashing straight into his chest.
"Bruno!"
The impact was strong enough to make him take a step back. A pair of small arms wrapped around him with surprising strength.
"Serlya…" Bruno murmured, blinking in surprise.
"It's been so long, Bruno!" The woman hugged him tighter, her face buried in his clothes. "Look at you! All big, serious, with that face that forgot how to smile!"
"I didn't forget," he said, trying to laugh — though it sounded more like a tired sigh.
Anaalyn crossed her arms, her face a little red.
"Mom, can you let him go? You're crushing the man."
"Oh, hush! It's been, what, ten years since I last saw this boy? And he still calls me ma'am?" Serlya finally stepped back, eyeing him up and down. "You've grown. And got way too handsome for your own good."
Bruno looked away, scratching his neck.
"You look… the same."
"Same as beautiful, I hope."
Anaalyn snorted.
"Same as nosy."
"You hush, girl."
Bruno tried not to laugh, while Kearlin — floating unseen — chuckled loud enough for Bruno to suppress a smile.
"You're doomed," Kearlin whispered playfully. "If the mother hugs you like that, imagine the rest of the family."
"Don't remind me," Bruno thought, adjusting his cloak.
Serlya wiped her hands on her apron and motioned them inside.
"Come on, come on! I want to hear what you've been up to all these years. The whole village wants to see you, Bruno. Some don't believe you're real, others think you're a legend. Well, today they'll see you're flesh and bone — and with the eyes of someone who's lived too many stories."
"The whole village?! You've got to be kidding."
Bruno took a deep breath before crossing the doorway.
"But alright…"
Anaalyn's home interior was simple but cozy — polished stone walls, a ceiling far too low for Bruno, who almost hit his head coming in. The air smelled of soup and hot metal.
Before he could even sit, a deep voice rumbled from the next room:
"So this is the human my niece keeps talking about?"
Bruno barely had time to turn before a sturdy dwarf appeared, arms crossed, staring at him like an armored bear.
"Uncle Sotar!" Anaalyn exclaimed, running to hug him.
The dwarf didn't even glance at her.
"You. Stay away from my niece. Understood?"
"Uncle!" Anaalyn groaned. "He saved me three times!"
"That's the least you'd expect from someone traveling with you," the uncle replied, puffing his chest. "Doesn't mean I'll like him. I don't trust humans — especially tall, quiet ones."
"I can crouch, if that helps," Bruno said calmly.
The dwarf squinted.
"Funny guy. Let's see if you stay calm when I grab my axe."
"For the forge's sake," Serlya shouted from the kitchen, "put that weapon away before I toss it in the oven to melt!"
"You shut your mouth, Serlya!"
"And you, shut yours, Sotar!"
As the two traded insults, Anaalyn was practically shrinking from embarrassment.
"I should've come alone…"
Kearlin, invisible beside Bruno, whispered:
"This is better than a comedy play. Try not to laugh."
Bruno crossed his arms, holding back a grin.
"I'm not laughing."
That was when a soft voice echoed down the stairs.
"Who's laughing down there?"
A young dwarf woman descended slowly, her hair in two braids and a green dress contrasting with the house's gray walls. She looked at Bruno, and for a second, the world seemed to slow down.
"So… you're Bruno."
"I am."
"You're more handsome than Anaalyn described."
"Oh no," Anaalyn muttered, covering her face. "Don't start, Ferya…"
The dwarf smiled, stepping closer, looking Bruno up and down.
"She said you're quiet, but not that you were handsome. Now it makes sense."
"Ferya!" Anaalyn shouted, blushing.
"Relax, I'm just being honest."
Bruno cleared his throat, trying to keep his tone neutral.
"Uh… nice to meet you."
"The pleasure's all mine."
Uncle Sotar roared, slamming his fist on the table.
"As long as I'm alive, no one in this house flirts with the human! Understood?!"
"Then die soon, uncle," Ferya replied sweetly. "Life's short, you know?"
Sotar turned bright red, but before he could retort, a dry thump echoed from the hallway.
Everyone turned.
An elderly dwarf woman, with gray eyes and white hair, walked slowly with the help of a cane. Her presence was silent but commanding.
"Enough shouting," she said, calm but firm. "Sotar, put the axe down. Ferya, close that mouth. Serlya, stop laughing. And Anaalyn…" — she looked at her granddaughter with tenderness — "don't bring guests without warning."
Anaalyn swallowed hard.
"Sorry, grandma."
She turned to Bruno.
"So you're Bruno — the warrior who defended our village more than once."
Bruno spoke softly,
"Sherya, the great dwarf, and daughter of my friend."
"No introductions needed."
"No, ma'am."