"An invitation?" Bob stared at the compass in Adom's hand, then at the expectant expression on his face. The leprechaun's bushy eyebrows drew together. "To the Fae Realm? Lad, are you absolutely mad?"Adom nodded. "That's the plan.""That's not a plan. That's a death wish." Bob paced a small circle, his shoes clicking rhythmically against the wooden floor. "Listen here, lad. The Fae Realm isn't for humans. No offense to your kind, but you lot don't fare well there.""I need to go," Adom insisted.Bob stopped pacing. "You don't understand what you're askin'. Humans who visit the Fae Realm... they don't come back right in the head. If they come back at all." He tapped his temple. "Time moves differently there. Logic bends. Reason breaks. You might think you're stayin' for an afternoon tea and return to find your grandchildren have died of old age."Biggins cleared his throat. "It was my suggestion, actually."Bob turned slowly toward the old shopkeeper, genuine surprise in his eyes. "Your suggestion? You of all people should know better.""Circumstances are... unusual.""Unusual?" Bob gave a humorless laugh. "Next you'll be tellin' me the sky's a bit blue or water's somewhat wet." He looked between them. "Are you sure about this? Absolutely sure?""Absolutely," Biggins said without hesitation.Bob fell silent, studying the dragon in disguise. The tension between them wasn't hostile — more like the cautious respect between two old warriors who had once found themselves on opposite sides of a battlefield."Well then," Bob finally said, turning back to Adom. "Tell me what's so important that my old acquaintance here is willin' to risk your sanity."Adom leaned against the counter. "I've been having this dream.""Dreams? We're riskin' your life over a few bad dreams?" Bob snorted."Not just any dream. The same one, night after night." Adom's voice dropped. "I'm in this cave, (...)