Bramblepoint Darjeeling Express

The shock and surprise was so vivid on Dwin's face that Wraen could not stop her from laughing merrily about it. This just proved, how very young the girl still was, and reminded of the time, when the ghost too had had similar thoughts. You grow up with one image of your future in mind and then the world takes you on an entirely different trajectory. You get some trips and falls and punches along the way and eventually the path takes you to places you never imagined going and makes you in a person you never thought you would be growing up. 

"Yeah, stories tend to gloss over the darkest aspects of the trade. Worse - they even glorify them," in a way she was sorry that Dwin's ideals about this particular trade had been shattered this early. But maybe seeing a hero actually die and understanding the difference between the fictional passing and the real one had spared Dwin a lot of suffering in the future. Maybe even won her some extra years. "I never learned to fight properly, because - look at me - I am small. A prey does not pick up a fight with a lethal predator," she said. "But - I guess - that in hindsight, learning, how to defend myself could have been useful," she mused. "Although I died from my body failing me and there is yet a warrior to be seen, who conquers age and disease," she smiled sadly.