Born

Twelve-year-old Freya loved climbing the hills above her village. While most kids spent their afternoons playing by the river, Freya preferred exploring hidden paths and imagining grand adventures. Her dad, Bjorn, was known throughout the village for his strength and calm voice. He could split firewood faster than anyone, but Freya thought his best talent was telling stories. Every evening, he sat by the fireplace and filled the room with tales of sea voyages, mountain giants, and lost treasures. One autumn afternoon, dark clouds gathered over the valley. Freya glanced toward the old watchtower on the highest hill. The tower’s lantern once warned travelers about dangerous weather. Without it, anyone caught on the mountain road could be in trouble. Together they climbed the steep trail. Rain began to fall, and the wind tugged at their coats. Halfway up, a fallen tree blocked the path. Bjorn pushed against the trunk, but the muddy ground made it difficult. They worked together, and slowly the tree rolled aside. At the tower, they found the lantern covered in dust. Freya cleaned the glass while Bjorn repaired the rusty mechanism. After several attempts, a bright golden flame sprang to life. The lantern shone through the rain like a star.