The scent of sizzling meat and sharp spices mingled with the warmth of the tavern, curling through the air like an unspoken invitation. A fresh loaf, crusty and golden cooled near the bar, steam rising from the scored top, while the low murmur of conversation wove between the clink of mugs and the scrape of chairs over well-worn wooden floors.

Reth had just stepped out from the kitchen, rolling his sleeves up as he tossed a dish towel over his shoulder. Another busy evening at Ormuu's Horn, nothing out of the ordinary. Until the door opened. The crisp bite of rain-soaked air swept in first, carried by the wind, and then, Jina. Her boots hit the threshold with the weight of someone who had been walking for miles but wasn't the least bit tired. And she wasn't alone.

His fingers twitched slightly against the counter as his eyes landed on the figure beside her. The room didn't fall silent, but there was a shift—a small, subtle change in the air, the kind that happened when something significant walked in and everyone felt it, even if they didn't know why.

Not Majiri. Not anything he had seen before. Not furred or feathered, no gleaming metallic plating like Einar or Hekla, no sharp-eyed Plumehound at her side like Hassian. Just... human. His mind caught on the word, like a thread snagging on the edge of a blade.

They tell stories about humans. Whispers from the old ones, tales half-believed, half-dismissed. Beings who walked the world before Majiri, before even the Galdur. Nothing but myths to most. And yet, here she was. Real. Breathing. And skies help me, the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on.

Jina stepped further inside, brushing the rain from her sleeves. "This is going to change everything," she said, voice eager with expectation.

Dramatic, Reth mused, but maybe not wrong. "Well, well," he drawled, grinning as he leaned a hip against the bar, blue eyes glinting with something sharp and playful. "Didn't think I'd see the day Jina brought someone interesting through those doors."

His grin stayed easy, but his thoughts churned. She doesn't look lost. She doesn't look afraid. That's interesting. Most people hesitated when stepping into a place like this for the first time, especially if they were being watched. Especially if they were the only one of their kind. She didn't. He liked that. A lot.

"Reth," he introduced himself before anyone else could. His voice dropped into something smooth, easy, like the first sip of well-aged whiskey. "Chef, occasional problem-solver, and the best thing to happen to this place since they stopped watering down the drinks."