Much has changed over the past decade, yet everything seems to have stayed the same.

Amelia, Chrim, Solari and Phoenix are all still working at the inn, but the latter is no longer a little girl. At 15 years old, Phoenix is now looking with interest beyond the boundaries of the building, questioning her purpose and starting to think about her future.

Despite Solari doing his best to teach her, Phoenix still cannot command magic. With her poor background and lack of access to respected magic schools, Phoenix all but gives up pursuing that avenue.

She doesn’t enjoy working in the kitchen either, so she instead expresses her desire to try new things.

“For now, you can start working behind the bar,” Chrim says to her frankly, with his increasingly wheezy and ageing voice. “Two silver a week, with bonuses based on takings.”

Phoenix knows it’s a lousy offer and Chrim has a lot more coin to spare, but it’s a new task and one that gives Phoenix a fresh sense of optimism. Plus, she has outgrown that small bedsit and wants to save for a room or eventually a place of her own.

She is also content in the company of bouncer Solari, who, like her, is a little insular and rarely speaks unless he needs to. Working in the main inn room, she feels he has her back if there’s any trouble. Over time, she almost forgets entirely about the elf in black from years ago. Almost.

.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-.

On her second night serving customers, three young Quel’Dorei men enter the inn in cocky spirits and approach the bar.

“How may I help you?” Phoenix asks them politely. Her voice is no longer the cute, chirpy voice of a young child but while it is still delicate and quiet, it is also crystal-clear and well spoken. It is a welcome voice to hear, calming and pleasing, well-suited to an inn.

Inside, Phoenix still feels the same as she ever did - shy and insular - but is dealing with changes on the outside.

Standing behind the bar, the young elf has grown taller and looks paler than before, no thanks to her lack of time spent outdoors. Wearing a dull grey shirt and black trousers that elongate her skinny figure, she looks a little older than her years.

Her messy locks are longer, straighter and tidier than before - while retaining their fiery ginger tint - and her puppy fat has all but gone. Phoenix’s cute podgy face from her earlier years is now longer and better defined. Her smell is earthy, like freshly fallen summer rain or pine caught on a sea breeze.

She is starting to look a little more like her mother, turning into a young woman, and with that comes new glances and attention from certain inngoers.

“You can get me a room and take your clothes off for starters,” one of the elves smirks, sending his friends into laughter.

Phoenix is flustered with anger more than embarrassment and looks away in trepidation.

Her blue eyes are beautiful but they do not shine like her mother’s. Something is missing. She appears to be an elf devoid of character, devoid of the true care and attention she always craved from her mother.

Despite her distinguishable hair and relative good looks, Phoenix has the tendency to fade into the background. But now, working behind the bar, there is no place to hide.

“I only serve drinks,” she quietly replies.

“Oh yeah, it’s your mum that serves the other goods,” the customer sniggers. “Three beers, then.”

Phoenix pours the drinks and takes their money with an expressionless face. Inside, she is seething. She looks over at her mother, who is at the other end of the inn already flirting with someone.

Phoenix’s resentment towards her mother’s line of work has grown. Aside from the prostitution, Amelia has an addiction to bloodthistle. Not only is this frowned on in some parts of elven society, forcing Amelia to take it in secrecy (often with questionable people usually linked with her job), it means they had less money, and Amelia had to work longer to compensate.

The cravings also make her irritable and short-tempered, resulting in arguments between mother and daughter. Phoenix still loves her, but is disgusted by the thought of following in her footsteps. She instead focuses on learning her own trade behind the bar, and though the idea scares her, she feels like she wants to just run away. Away from her life, from her mother, from the addictions. There is nothing left for her here but drudgery.

.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-._.-.

Each night, after closing, Phoenix tries a different tipple. One quick, sneaky gulp to get a feel for the drink, better understand the inn’s customers and learn more about her profession. It helps her remember her customers’ favourite drinks, and to associate the different tastes of alcohol with different types of customers. Most are friendly enough, and she does her best to ignore any rude or disparaging comments aimed her way, or any trouble.

She saves as much money as she can, and a few generous tips start to add up. Eventually she has a few gold to her name.

Elsewhere, a far bigger change is happening in Azeroth. Townsfolk begin talking about rumours and sightings of strange monsters razing villages outside the human city of Stormwind far across the land.

Every other night, Phoenix overhears stories in the inn of foul beasts plaguing the human areas of Elwynn Forest and slaughtering innocent people. To many, the tales are just hocum, but others worry for the safety of the high elves, their way of life and for Quel’Thalas.

For Phoenix, the talk is surely nonsense.