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Blog Post 65: The Adventure Shop: Part 32

1/13/25

Dahlia hated cowering in this humid, damp, barely lit cell. Out of all her experiences, this was the most uncomfortable but not the most heartbreaking. She looked to where Tadgh’s head and body lay in the magical coffin that was set to preserve it. Reyna decided to leave it in the barred cells, or the brig as Dahlia had found it was called, with the rest of them–where it plagued Valentine every minute.

Dahlia looked over to her friends. Laz sat next to Valentine, while Hazel watched over Valentine as she was still recovering from her near-death experience. Aislin sat with Lothar as he tried to make her smile. Dahlia had never seen her so solemn. Mistral played with a lock and her kit that she used to open it. She could have opened the cell at any time, but being on the ship in the middle of the sea did not leave them many options. Riskar sat beside her, watching her skill, and looked to be working up the nerve to ask if he could learn.

Dahlia stood, catching their attention as she paced. She hated staying still and her knees were beginning to cramp from sitting for so long. She wanted to do something. Fix something. Make something that could help. That is what she was good at. Seeing a problem and fixing it. Seeing something needed by those around her and creating the object. 

This was making her crazy. It had been two weeks by her count of the scratch marks on the floor, but now the time was flowing in unknown timespans. The conversation between each of them was minimal. Asking how each other was, was laughable. No one was fine or good. And each had their own ways to cope with the events that occurred.

A creak before a bang of wood hitting wood sounded up above them and soon footsteps followed. 

“Ha ha ha! You all look so somber. You should smile! You are alive! And unless my cook has poisoned you–and I don’t think he has–you all are even eating well!” Reyna called out as Dahlia glared at her. “Oh, you are so cute with your little squinty eyes. Are you trying to glare?” Reyna asked, mockingly. 

Dahlia did not answer and went to lean her back on the bars. Wanting to knock Reyna over the ship, but knowing without power it would only hurt the others.

“You all are so quiet. Won’t even look me in the eyes. Well, I guess I should get to why I am here.” She opened the cell door and motioned to two of her crew members. 

They came in and approached Hazel, Valentine, and Laz. Reaching down, they stretched out for Valentine. Laz hissed and showed his fangs. 

“No. You are not taking her.” He stood in front of her. 

“Laz, don’t. Please,” Valentine said faintly. 

Laz looked at her and the crew members. “I am sorry, but I won’t let them take you.”

“If you do not move, boy, I will slit your throat, and I don’t have another coffin to place you in to save you for later,” Reyna threatened.

“You kill him, and I kill myself,” Dahlia threatened, walking toward the bars.

“That is not a threat. You know there is just more than one of your people here that your life is supporting. Like the old lady. She is not much use to me without you. Consider these lives as my insurance policy to get you to play nice.”

Dahlia stood watching her and debating. Hating that when she could normally see solutions nothing was coming to mind–ever since Tadgh. She shook her head. Dwelling on that now would not make a difference. “You take her and I will make sure the Woman in Yellow never gets the moonstone,” Dahlia threatened.

“Don’t worry. I won’t kill her.” She smiled before nodding to her crewmates. “Bring her.”

They pushed their way past Laz and knocked him over as they took her. Valentine’s eyes looked scared, but she didn’t protest. She willingly went with them. Laz pleaded with her to fight, but she didn’t. They led her away, and the bars rang as the cell was slammed shut again.

Laz sat down and put his head in his hands. “They are going to take her venom. Drain the little snakes, which each have their own names, and take back what’s left.”

“What do you mean–drain?”

“The venom can turn people to stone. It is as effective as if they were to look in her eyes. In her lands, when her people were discovered, adventurers thought they were monsters. They didn’t understand the language so they didn’t even try to figure out who the Gorgons were. They began to capture them and take them as slaves, using their abilities for their own uses.” 

He turned to Dahlia, Riskar, and Hazel. “That is why she does not like adventurers. I don’t know what to do. I never had to do anything, but make sure they were taken care of. That they had someone to talk to. I never did anything to help. To fight. I never even learned. I was a spoiled rich brat who never worked before I got kicked out. They took me in. And now I can’t do anything to help.”

Dahlia wasn’t sure what to say. Logically, what he said was correct. Neither she nor he could help or fix this. Hazel sat next to him and laid her open palm on her knee. Laz looked at it and then at her. Slowly he placed his hand in hers and leaned his head on her shoulder.

“You don’t have to fix everything, dear. We are not always in control, and we do not have a way to fix everything. Everything feels out of control, messy, and uncertain. It can bring out hopelessness, and despair, and makes us wonder about our worth. But who you are is not what you can do for others. It is who you are in those messy, uncertain, hopeless moments. That is your worth.”

“But right now I am not able to fix anything. And all I can do is sit here, wallowing in my self-pity.”

“That is alright, Enlazenious. We can’t always push to be better and do better. Sometimes we need a moment to pause, grieve, and move forward. It is okay to grieve our path not taken, our lack of control, and our uncertainty. To pause and rest. Reassess the problem and look for a new strategy. But you do not stay down. You do not give up. Once you grieve, you rest and reassess. You get back into the fight with whatever you have got. Even if it means just one moment at a time.”

Laz’s eyes filled with tears. “You sound like the motivational speakers that speak on the corners in the crowded markets.”

“Good. That means that speech wasn’t too bad for an old healer with creaky bones.”

Laz laughed and held back what sounded like a sob. “You are not old. You are too active and full of spitfire to even be considered anything close to old.” 

“Thank you, dear.” She held his hand and looked down at him. “It is okay to grieve.”

When she heard that, Dahlia felt her breath catch in her throat. Everything she tried to push away by thinking of how to fix it came to the surface. She watched as Laz kept his head on Hazel’s shoulder and wept. Aislin soon joined in with tiny little hiccups in between her sobs. 

Dahlia reached up and felt her cheek. A tear was falling as her body expressed the grief that her mind tried to protect her from. Maybe they would be able to solve what happened. Maybe she could save Valentine and the others. Maybe she could fix it or create something to help. But right now, in the messiness, lack of control, and uncertainty–at this moment–they grieved together.

Dahia looked at Tadgh’s body. She grieved for the person she was beginning to know. She sat on Laz’s other side and leaned against him. He placed an open palm on his knee and she took it. 

Mistral and Riskar looked at the others as Mistral spoke up. “I know we can’t fix anything, but maybe we can find out if the others are alive?”

“How? They took my bag, and Aster has our bird,” Dahlia said still leaning on Laz.

“He actually doesn’t. He gave him to me when things were turning sideways.” Mistral took the little bird from her pocket and held it out. It ruffled its feathers in her hand before flying over to Dahlia and landing on her tilted cheek where it leaned into her face.

“You’re here! And you’re safe!” Dahlia cooed to the little creature. “Thank you, Mistral!” 

The little bird pecked Dahlia’s fingers as she reached down to pick up some bread to crumble into pieces for it. “I didn’t want to bring him up yet. I have been feeding him. I just wasn’t sure how to bring him up without any idea of what to do next. I didn’t want to make you hopeful if they were gone.”

“Thank you, Mistral! I am so glad he is safe!” The little bird pecked on the snacks provided before hopping onto Laz and picking at the hair on his head.

“Well, this is kind of cute.” Laz smiled softly as he laughed at the sensation of the gentle pecks. The little bird continued to hop around as if spending all the time hiding made it need to get the pent-up energy out. 

“Did you name it yet?” Mistral asked.

“No, I am still not sure what to name it. I don’t want to name it the wrong thing,” she replied as it curiously went over to Lothar and Aislin. Aislin smiled brightly and cooed as well to the little bird she now considered a new friend. 

“Can I make a suggestion?” Laz asked.

“Of course!” Dahlia responded.

“This isn’t to name him exactly for him, but what about Tad? I just–” Laz paused as tears filled his eyes again. “I think he would have liked that. He liked birds. They were his favorite. He said it was because they were observant and quiet like him. But very smart. He always said they were also very smart.”

“Tad. I think that would be good.” Dahlia smiled. “I can’t wait to tell–.” She paused with the realization.

“They may still be alive. Do not lose hope,” Hazel said to them all as Tad flew over and landed on her arm.

“Right. We can’t lose hope,” Dahlia said. Wondering how they would get out of this. If anyone knew what had happened to them. Or if there was a way to save themselves. 

But before she tried to fix anything she decided to rest as she leaned over and let her mind drift off to pleasant memories when she owned and ran the adventure shop.