Would you like a cookie?

Every great story has its quiet heroes. One of them in the tale of Argon was the little elf Toru.
 
He was the last keeper of the ancient magic of ice in those parts. His relatives have long gone to warm countries, considering the craft of their ancestors obsolete. And so he lived in an ice cave all alone, pouring all his unspent care into baking cookies for guests who never came.
 
And then one day, through the howling of a blizzard, he saw a huge dog that was fighting off a pack of gloomy Snow Whisperers. The creatures of darkness had almost overpowered him and something had to be done. Then, for the first time in many years, courage, not fear, flared up in the heart of a lonely elf. He could not allow the only guest in many years to be torn to pieces in front of his eyes! Crying out, Toru waved his hands and a stream of magic escaped from his fingers. And then two shining falcons of pure ice appeared out of thin air. They descended on the Whisperers, putting them to flight.
 
Running up to the emaciated dog, the elf looked into his intelligent eyes and asked: Argon just wagged his tail gratefully, unable to say a word. Then Toru brought him to his cave, gave him hot tea, and fed him his best cookies. And then I packed up my things and went on the most important journey of my life — in search of a Diamond Snowflake.