Eliana pressed her fingers against the smooth bark of a thornwood tree and hummed a melody she'd written at dawn. The notes floated through the forest clearing, soft and clear. She wanted to perform her music for the realm's most elite patrons someday. They gathered in grand halls far from her woodland home, deciding which artists deserved fame and which would be forgotten. She'd heard stories of a concert hall three days' walk from here. The building stood tall with wooden arches that reached toward the sky. Stained glass windows covered the walls, painting the floor in colored light. That's where crowds came to hear music. That's where she needed to be. Eliana pulled her hand from the tree and looked at the path leading away from the clearing. Her feet had never carried her beyond the forest edge. The journey would be long, and she'd have to perform for strangers first. But the elite patrons only visited places where music already lived. She needed to get to that hall. She needed them to hear what she could create. She walked back to her cottage and began gathering what she'd need. Her flute went into a leather satchel along with sheets of music she'd written. A small drum followed, then her carved pipes. Too much to carry on foot for three days. Outside, she spotted a caravan parked near the garden, its paint chipped but its wheels solid. The owner had left it behind seasons ago. Eliana ran her hand along the wooden frame. It was small but sturdy, with space for her instruments and enough room to sleep during the journey. She could pull it herself if she started at sunrise. Morning light filtered through the trees as Eliana hitched herself to the caravan. The wheels creaked but rolled forward. She took one last look at her clearing, then started down the path. The concert hall waited somewhere beyond the forest, filled with people who loved music. She'd perform there first, build her name, and wait for the elite patrons to notice. Her journey had finally begun.