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The elven boy looked up at the mysterious woman as she handed him a book. His eyes were wide with excitement, both at the unexpected gift, but also because it he'd never seen a human in the Wilds, let alone someone as famous as her.

She looked from the boy back to his parents and exchanged knowing looks and smiles. "If he's been enjoying reading my journals at this age, he'll be ready to make the most of this book by the time he can wield a blade or spell." She looked back to the boy. "I know it shaped my life. Hopefully it can his."

She knelt down to rest at eye level with the young fey. "Now, when it's time to read this, you can add your name to the front page, okay? Just under mine."

She stood again and bid her goodbyes to the small family. With a simple turn and wave of her hand, she was gone.

The boy looked to his parents again, still too excited to speak, and then opened the book to its first page. His finger raced down the list of names there, each one's ink more faded from time than the last. At the bottom, right above where he would some day sign it, he whispered aloud to himself:

"Irina Fletch."

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