Kevin wanted to win the realm's underground strongman tournament, but nobody would tell him where it was held. He had trained three years for one fight. He could lift a loaded cart over his head. He could snap a yoke beam across his knee. None of that mattered now. The tournament moved to a new secret place each season, and only the chosen learned its location. Kevin had asked every fighter in his village. They all gave him the same answer. They laughed and walked away. Tonight he split firewood behind his cabin to burn off the anger. The axe bit deep with each swing. His home was quiet and safe, nestled between green hills he had known since boyhood. He loved this land. He also feared he would die here, strong and forgotten, having never once stepped into the ring he dreamed about. A soft light rose from the woodpile. Kevin froze, axe raised. Then a tiny winged woman drifted up from between the logs. She was no taller than his hand. Her wings glowed pale blue and gold, and dust fell from them like sparks. She had watched him train for weeks, she said, from the hollow of an old oak. She had decided he was worthy. "You swing that axe like you hate it," she said. "A man who wants something that badly should stop asking permission." Kevin lowered the axe slowly. "You know where the tournament is." "I know where everything is." She hovered near his face, unafraid of his size. "The fighters won't tell you because they're scared of you. One look at your arms and they know what you'd do to them in the ring." He set the axe down. "Then tell me. Please." The fairy floated higher. She pointed past the hills, toward the river he could hear but not see in the dark. "Follow the water north for two days. You'll reach old stone barracks beside the riverbank. The fighters gather there before each tournament. Speak the word 'ironroot' at the gate. They'll let you in. From there, they carry you to the ring blindfolded." Kevin's heart pounded. "Why help me?" "Because I'm bored," she said, "and because I want to see the look on their faces." Her light flared once, bright enough to make him squint. When he opened his eyes, she was gone. He stood alone in the dark yard. The firewood lay unsplit. His quiet, safe home felt small now in a good way, like a door he was finally ready to walk out of. He had a direction. He had a word. For the first time, the tournament was real. Kevin went inside and packed his pack by candlelight. At dawn he would follow the river north to the warrior barracks. The fighters wanted to keep him out. They had no idea he had just found the way in.