Blog Post

Blog Post 44: The Adventure Shop: Part 11

3/13/23

The sun was starting to fade as Dahlia and Hazel made their way to the camp. In the forest it grew darker by the second; the fading light that tried to break through was covered by the tall, ancient trees. Lights, both fires and torches, began to light up all around camp, casting everything in an orange glow mixed with shadows. 

Dahlia was surprised how quickly it looked like a small village had sprung to life, with every tent in place, fires lit, and food being prepared. There were some that were going out into the forest to gather larger fallen logs for the night, some who stayed by the fires preparing meals, and others were discussing the best route to take. A few pretending to be finishing up with the tents as they talked and laughed.

Dahlia wasn’t sure where she fit into all of this or where she could be useful. Hazel had gone to assist with the meals and check to see if anyone needed any herbs for aching muscles from the journey. 

Clang! Went the sound of metal, setting off a spark in her mind. She looked for her belongings and could not place them. 

“Do you need help?” a soft voice asked.

Turning around, she saw a woman who was so white, that it looked as if you could see through her. Her long white hair touched the forest floor as she moved closer to Dahlia. Curious, Dahlia took a step further as if her body had moved on its own. She looked younger than Dahlia, and it seemed as if each feature shifted from solid to almost a mist.

“I’m Aislin, a wraith. I don’t think we have met before. I usually don’t enter your shop. Or any buildings really. They make me uncomfortable being in enclosed spaces.” 

Shaking her head to bring her out of the trance, Dahlia returned the greeting. “It is nice to meet you. I haven’t met anyone like you before, Aislin. You are intriguing and it makes my curious nature hard to contain. I apologize for staring.”

“Wraiths are an interesting sort. Both here and elsewhere. I travel between realms– well between anything really that lets me. To be honest I have not met a shopkeeper before, so this is new to me too.” Aislin laughed; a laugh that seemed to be both right next to Dahlia’s ear and far off into the dark forest. 

Aislin seemed to remember something as she looked around. “You needed help didn’t you? I would be more than happy to help if I can?”

“Oh right!” Dahlia chuckled remembering how much she would usually forget when she got curious and took over her mind for the time being. This was no exception. 

“I was looking for my bag. I had a few things I needed that would help, if anyone needs it.”

“I believe Marianna put your things in a tent with her and Hazel. We usually sleep three to a tent. It has always been a rule, but I am not sure why. I feel like I want to ask now,” Aislin said, leading the way as Dahlia followed. Aislin seemed like a kindred spirit, and someone Dahlia would not mind spending hours lost in conversations with.

Bringing Dahlia to the tent, she looked and everything lay on a mat on the ground, waiting for her to claim. As Aislin waited outside, seeming curious as to what Dahlia would do, Dahlia rummaged through her things till she found it. A small pack for restoring weapons. “I can help the others with any issues that they had when they came to town with their weapons. Some needed that long before my shop burned down, and I kept bugging them. Now I can fix it!”

“Oh! Can I tell? I am very fast since I travel in the in-between!”

“That would be great! I will be by the fire. Well, one of the fires!” Before Dahlia could finish her thought of going together to find a suitable location, Aislin was off. 

Moving back to the others she found a spot that the light hit perfectly on the ground where her operation would be. Not ideal, but it would work. 

“Would you like a workbench of sorts?” Marianna asked, coming up to see what Dahlia was working on.

“That would be great. I would try to create something, but my magic is a little tapped out at the moment.”

“What are friends for? I am happy to support your endeavor.” Marianna seemed to call roots from deep in the earth, and moved them slowly till it made a perfect workbench. At least for one made of roots. Marianna brushed off the dirt like she was cleaning a table for company. “They will not be able to stay long. They will need to go back to their home later, but they are willing to help us for now.”

“Who are they?” Dahlia looked around to try to figure out what that could mean. Only too late did she realize.

“The trees. Some flora are more kind than others. Others can be a bit gruff, but the ancient ones have seen a lot and tend to harbor thoughts of mistrust. But that often depends on the place. These trees never had anyone harm them. And I ensure that no one cuts down one that is still living. We only take the dead ones to clear the forest for new growth, and to prevent larger forest fires.” Marianna looked around, seeming in awe. “Killian helps me clean up the forests, and care for them. I love them all dearly.”

“What do you eat then?” Dahlia blurted out. “I am so sorry; that was so rude.” 

“I eat what anyone else does, but in the life that was given to sustain mine, I am grateful for their sacrifice and honor their life. And one day I will be food and nutrients for that which was nutrients for me. As I am thankful for their sacrifice, they will be thankful for mine.” Dahlia was about to ask another question, but was interrupted by half the camp holding weapons for her to repair, clean, and care for. 

She sighed. “I may need more magic and the small forge from my backpack.”

“Why am I not surprised you have that?” Aster asked, coming up out of the group.

“What? It is a travel size for convenience,” Dahlia protested.

“Oh! I will get it!”

“Thank you! It is… oh, and she is gone. She’ll find it.” Dahlia laughed as Aislin flitted off again, out of sight in a blink. Dahlia smiled at the waiting members of the camp, the ones who came into her shop. Not all known by name, but she knew each face and each weapon they held. Some she might lightly scold for the disrepair of the item. But they all in their own way still needed her and a skill she had. This is one of the ways she could contribute to everyone gathered to save her life.

Aislin brought the forge, and Borg assisted in mending items by her side. Everyone gathered around to watch, and asked her all sorts of questions. 

“Do you know how to wield a sword? Any type of sword or a specific one? How good are you? I can teach you!”

“Can you throw knives or axes? The ones you make are beautiful and work amazing! How do you not know? We will fix that!”

“I will teach you how to shoot a bow!” Marianna offered.

“You will not!” Killian protested. “I will not have another lethal but not accurate person wielding knives close to my knees. Or any other part of me for that instance.”

The camp laughed and as Dahlia looked around resting in this moment, she felt a part of something. For the first time, a part of a group. The loneliness of the shop seemed like a distant memory, and she looked around at the faces.  She had only known four of the adventurers well when she started this journey, and she was starting to know more and find friends she would have never had.

Dahlia looked at the forge as it heated the metal so they could change its shape.

A thought crossed her mind, maybe she could change her shape too. The challenges she faced would shape her for the better if she would willingly accept it. The sounds of the forest grew louder as she looked at the others’ faces. Dahlia hoped they would help prepare her to face the challenges ahead. 

And that she would be ready to face the woman in yellow.