When you are searching, you will find what you are looking for. Sometimes you will get yourself in trouble, and you will find out that what you are looking for is just an illusion. Sometimes it's pure luck that will help you to find what you are looking for and sometimes it's fate. But all in all, you shall achieve your aim. Balok knew he was close to his destination. Very close actually, judging by the way the snowballs would appear and he was right. They were getting slightly bigger now each time and their round shape changed to that of an arrow. He focused his attention on nothing but those arrows. He would sense some magic here and there on his way, but knew that magic was not directed towards him and meant no harm.
Suddenly the snowballs stopped which made him stop as well. The dark elf took a look at his surroundings. He was standing in the center of a circle of houses, old but well preserved and cute. This area seemed modest. With his amethyst coloured eyes he searched carefully for any sign of magic or, in this case, snowballs. Nothing. While observing the houses, he saw an old manor house with big windows and blue walls. It was strikingly different from the other houses. Was this Vetehinen's house? There was only one way to find out. The drow took a few steps and came to the front door of the house. Before he could knock at the door, it opened in order to let him enter.
'Come in stranger. You are welcome in my home.' Again Balok heard the voice in his head. The dark elf entered the house while the door was closing behind him. Balok found himself in a bright entrance hall with interesting pictures on the walls and full of wooden furniture. Well... the owner of the house obviously liked warm and comfortable things. 'Come upstairs. I am waiting for you.'
"And I can't wait to finally meet you and hear what you can tell me." Balok answered and hurried up the stairs which were on the end of the entrance hall. Upstairs was a corridor with a couple of doors, but only one door was open and there was light in the room. The dark elf hurried into the room, where he encountered a slim middle aged man sitting at a small table. His hair was turquoise green and reached to the middle of his back. He had a mustache and a pointed beard and bushy eyebrows. His eyes were deep blue, so deep blue that you could lose yourself in them without having a clue what the man might be thinking. The man smiled when he saw Balok.
"Hello. Please have a seat. We have so much to talk about."
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Today the inn's kitchen was filled with a wonderful smell of baked pastries with dried fruits. Small and delicate hands accomplished magic with dough on the kitchen table. The young beautiful woman was dedicated to her work. Rose was happy. She didn't know how long it would take Balok to find the wise man, and she wanted...no... decided to be useful and to help the innkeeper in the kitchen by preparing pastries. So she offered her help to the innkeeper who accepted it.
"You really know how to make pastries. I am impressed." The Innkeeper was a calm and good natured man in his early forties. He promised to the drow that he would keep her safe and sound, but never expected her to help him. He and his family could handle all the work in the inn without help, but he saw how determined Rose was about it and gave her the task to make the pastries and to clean the dishes.
"Thank you sir. I just couldn't sit in the room and do nothing." Well, with your attention and diligence you will be an excellent housewife." He smiled at her. Rose was slightly taken aback at this comment. She had never ever considered being a housewife. Who would take a former prostitute as a wife? She was sure that almost every man would leave her as soon as he learned of her past. No... nobody would want her, maybe as a mistress but never as a wife. And then there was Balok, her first lover and only customer. Rose was sure that he didn't have any deeper feelings than physical attraction for her.
"Thank you sir, but I think I will be happy to have a job and a place to live." She took a piece of dough and formed a shell shape of it. She was afraid to expect more than that for her life. Her escape from the brothel itself was a miracle. Actually, half accident and half miracle and Rose didn't want to try her luck.
"You can work here in the kitchen and we could give you a room to stay, but that would be wrong. Such a lovely and diligent girl like you should not have to spend the whole life on its own." Rose chuckled at this. If he only knew, if he only knew about her. The innkeeper would definitely change his opinion about her. Surely, she knew how to cook and clean, but that alone would not make her a good housewife. Every girl in the brothel had to learn these skills. The innkeeper noticed her discomfort.
"I am sorry if I insulted you or made you feel uncomfortable. What was your name again, girl?"
"Rose..." she answered.
"And the surname?"
"I...I don't have one." The man arched an eyebrow. Rose tensed, she didn't want to reveal too much about herself, fearing to be captured and returned to her city. She had to say something... anything.
"Miss, are you alright?"
"I don't have a surname because I was a slave." Rose was white as a sheet. "I was a woman´s slave; born in slavery and that is the reason why I don't have a surname. One day, there was a huge fire in the house where I and my mistress lived; almost everything burned down to the ground and that day I escaped.
"Poor child. You have been through a lot. Do not worry, I won't tell anybody about this. You have my word on it. But please, tell me how you met the drow? It seems to me that you know each other."
"I met him in the woods. It was freezing cold that night and he helped me; otherwise I would have frozen to death." Well, that was at least half true. They did met in the woods, but it was not their first meeting. Rose didn't like the idea of lying, but also didn't want reveal too much, so she told him as much as she could. The innkeeper let her continue with her work and went back to his duty, preparing the meat he planned to serve for dinner. Rose was done with the dough and took it to the oven. The fire in the oven was illuminating the kitchen and ready for the pastries. Although she was very careful placing the brass into the oven, a small flame caught her left palm.
