Welcome back, good Reader, it's good to see you again. Aren't you glad that Ava made it back safe and sound? Just like every other hero of a story should do, or it would be a very short and sad tale. You know, a lot of classic heroes tend to kill one thing or another, and survive some unbelievable situations, but we never wonder if they're okay. I don't mean physically, but mentally, which would involve their sanity. Sorry, ramblings of an old man, age can get to me. How about I just get back to the story? Let us continue.

“Very convenient that we have a potion that can heal any wounds in an instant, even if it is expensive,” says David after giving Ava an elixir, and finds it strange that she didn't follow along with his comment. “Uh, Ava?”

“Ava?” asks Dorothy, and looks at Ava in shock. “You're a girl!?”

“Well yeah, what did you–” A realization comes to David, and right afterwards, he laughs at the top of his lungs. “You thought she was a boy!” He continues to laugh, and stops when he notices Ava's lack of response. She was paying a lot of attention to her hands, which were covered in blood.

“Ava?” calls Wendy, and Ava reacts.

“Huh?” says Ava while looking at Wendy.

“Did you hear?” asks David.

“Hear what?” Wendy and David look at each other for a moment, then back at Ava.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?” Ava gets up from the seat and takes off her weapons.

“She thought you were a boy.” David points at Dorothy while saying that.

“I get that a lot.” Ava walks to a corner of the house and puts her equipment on the floor.

“Are you sure you're okay?” asks Wendy.

“I'm fine, why do you keep asking?” Ava starts walking towards the stairs.

“Did something happened out there?”

“I said I'm fine!” This startles everyone in the first floor.

“Whoa, what's gotten into you?” asks David, not liking the tone she's taking, and Ava notices it in time to compose herself.

“Sorry, sorry, I just had a rough day, that's all.” Ava starts to go up the stairs. “I'm going to clean up.” With that said, she starts going to the second floor.

“All right, while you do that, I'm going to check your weapons, I noticed that your shield has a few dents.” David starts walking towards her sword and shield.

“No!” That stops David in place.

“May I ask why?” Ava thinks for a moment.

“I'll clean them up later. After all, I should take some responsibility with your weapons, right?”

“Oh, well, I guess.”

“I'll be back in a moment.” Ava continues on her way, leaving everyone in the first floor staring at her in silence.

“Is she always like this?” asks Dorothy.

“No, she's usually livelier and more behaved than that,” answers Wendy. Then, she gets up, and bows to the princess. “Oh dear, where are my manners? It is such an honor to have your highness in our humble home.” David simply goes back to his forge to continue on his work.

“No need for the formalities, I think we're way past that at this point,” says Dorothy with a smile.

“In that case, I hope you're hungry because you're about to eat the best soup you probably have tasted in your entire life,” says David, and Wendy blushes.

“Oh, stop it, you,” responds Wendy while walking back to the cauldron, “I'm sure she would prefer something better than just soup.”

“I wouldn't mind giving it a try,” says Dorothy as Wendy reaches the cauldron.

“Well then, I'll make sure to put my best effort into it.” Wendy gives her attention to the task of preparing a meal worthy of royalty, with the ingredients that she has.

While both David and Wendy are busy with their tasks, Dorothy is curious about Ava's behavior. More importantly to her, she's interested in the sword and shield that Ava was carrying. For some strange reason, she was reluctant to let David check her weapons, and that makes the princess believe that they might help explain her behavior. She gets up from the table, walks up to the corner, and starts examining her equipment. First, she picks up the kite shield from the ground, takes a closer look, and notices little damage, but nothing else. She puts it down, picks up the scabbard, pulls out the sword, and is shocked by what she finds. She stops herself from gasping, but she can clearly see that half of the weapon is covered in dried blood. That's when David notices Dorothy taking a look at his creations.

“Ah, like what you see? I made them myself,” asks David, being unable to see the stain on his weapon.

“You made this sword?” asks Dorothy, still looking at the evidence of something dark.

“Yup, my father was a blacksmith, and he taught me as much as he could. So I put my skills in creating something that could protect my weird friend from the dangers in the streets.” Dorothy is afraid to ask, but she feels compelled to know the whole truth.

“Has she ever killed someone?” David chuckles at the very idea.

“Ava? Where is this coming from?” asks Wendy while working on the soup.

“No reason, just wondering why carry a sword if she would never use it,” answers Dorothy as she puts the sword back in the scabbard, and in the corner.

“That's just for emergency, and I am very thankful that it has never come to that.”

“Although, she is acting strange,” says David.

“Didn't you see the state she was when she got here? It wouldn't surprise me.” Dorothy is having an idea as to what really happened on the roof, and can only imagine what's going through Ava's head. She walks to the stairs, and starts going to the second floor, but half way up, she meets up with a young boy.

“Hi, who are you?” says Harold with a smile.

“My name's Dorothy, and you?” asks Dorothy while returning his smile with one of her own.

“I'm Harold.”

“Nice to meet you, Harold. Did you see Ava on your way?”

“Yeah, I was sleeping on the bed, but Ava woke me up, that's when I saw her. I wanted to give her a hug, but she said no because she had to clean some tomato juice from her hands.” Dorothy remembers seeing blood on Ava's hands, and she's starting to suspect that it belonged to someone else.

“I see.”

“But the weird thing is, it didn't smell like tomato, and she says that it was because she was dirty.”

“Well, we're about to eat soon, so I'm also going to wash my hands.”

“Okay.” Harold walks down the stairs, and goes about preparing the table for lunch. Dorothy reaches the second floor, and sees a door at the other side of the bedroom. She steels herself for what she's about to do, walks up to the door, and knocks.

I think I'll stop it here for the day, I think there's so much drama one can take, and I've grown a bit tired. You know I'll be back, and I hope you pay me a visit again so we can finish our story. I wonder if I'm handling it correctly? If I'm portraying it as it should be? Does realism takes the fun away from this tale? Well, problems for some other time.

Until next time, good Reader.