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item is more dangerous in your hands than those of our enemies.”
    *****
    Once covered by the ruins of a lost civilization, the Island of Pallice has been steadily regenerating since it emerged from the ocean depths. Patches of forest have grown overnight and pools of fae water dot the landscape, the sparkling liquid having seeped from the core of the land. Sea elves have created several outposts along the rocky shore, which resemble simple huts that sit within the shallows. The stone pier has been repaired to allow Gaian researchers to arrive and explore the long lost island, the docks manned by a crotchety old female sea elf and her always happy daughter. Ogres still wander the island, but the hulking beasts have become docile after losing so many of their kin. The small group has been continually moving deeper into the growing forest, always hoping to claim the shadowy heart where they are sure to be left alone by their enemies. These dangerous creatures would have been wiped out by the fearful sea elves if not for the actions of their beloved Mistress of the Mountain.
    Sari stands on a balcony high upon the solitary mountain of the island, its crystal peak touching the clouds. Her blue hair waves in the cold, winter wind, which goes unnoticed by the comfortable gypsy. She hops onto the icy railing of the balcony to get a better look at a group of dwarves who are examining the base of the mountain. She adjusts her brightly colored skirts as she cautiously watches the bearded visitors, their simple ship bobbing on the distant shore. Her emerald eyes narrow at the sight of a pickaxe being lifted. Holding her hands out, Sari gathers the collecting snow to make a large snowball. With an impish smile, she drops the soft projectile on the dwarves and buries them up to their necks.
    “Don’t even think about mining my home!” she shouts down at them. She waves when they dig themselves out and bow to her. “If you want something then come through the front door and talk to me. Not that there’s anything of worth in this rock. It’s pretty, but worthless if you take it apart.”
    “Shall I scare them off, mistress?” Risar says as he steps onto the balcony. The floor thickens to accommodate the slender ice giant, his body already sprouting intimidating spikes. “I have been in my small form for so long that I would not mind stretching my legs.”
    “They have pickaxes and I don’t want them hurting you. It took me a week to revive you without any mistakes, Risar,” Sari answers, taking the giant’s clawed hand and hopping off the railing. She pats him on the wrist and walks into the mountain, casually passing between his spindly legs. “I doubt they’ll be a problem, so you may meet them at the door. You need to get used to being in charge when I’m gone. By the gods, I feel like royalty when I think about all of this. We need to talk to the sea elves and set up a small town for anyone who wishes to live here. Invite the homeless of Gaia and let them build their own city on the coast. The sea elves can teach them how to make a living off the sea.”
    Risar nods his Draconic head as he lumbers behind the talkative champion. The giant is still unclear on what Sari has planned for the island, the gypsy having talked about building everything from a grand city to a single cabin. He sighs as he reminds himself that his new master is a little on the flakey side, but he does enjoy that she is focused so much on helping others. He grins at the thought that he was the first person she set out to help and reward for his loyal service.
    “Thank you for making me the new guardian, mistress. It is a great honor that I will take very seriously. I am especially thankful for the new abilities that you gave me. Though I am unclear how you did so.”
    “It’s rather simple,” Sari states, the barefoot gypsy padding her way through the warm hallways. She stops to touch a wall, creating an alcove with an ice sculpture of a