Dahlia searches for the local blacksmith to fix the inn she runs. Meanwhile, Camellia looks for opportunities to expand her trades.

Chapter Text

Dahlia stepped out of the inn and slowly closed the cellar doors. The hinges squeaked loudly as she did, making her cringe.

Rosavern was never the sturdiest inn. By the time her father had entrusted it to her, most of the support beams keeping the run-down building together had either been eaten by termites, or were dangerously close to collapsing. She had to repair most of the supports herself, but it wasn’t a sustainable job for one person alone. Soon enough, she knew she needed to hire someone else who actually did this for a living.

Dahlia heard rumors that the local blacksmith Belladona had recently finished her orders, and would be accepting more starting tomorrow. A large line of people stood beside Belladona's stall when Dahlia went there the next day, and it took until noon for her to reach it. Luckily, knowing Dahlia’s situation, and being a regular of Rosavern, Belladona immediately agreed to fix the building for her by next week. Dahlia hoped it would survive until then.

As if on cue, the door frame collapsed on the cellar doors just as she went out. Dahlia jumped out of the way, narrowly escaping the falling debris. The red ribbon and flower tying her ponytail came undone and fell, letting her typically well-kept orange hair run down. Her white dress and rose-colored frilly skirt were also smeared with dust and dirt as she lay on the ground.

After a few moments, she came to and stood up. She was still disoriented from the fall when she heard the frame seemingly collapse even further behind her, the crash jolting her awake. She hesitantly turned to her back, the dissipating cloud of dust blocking her view. The cloud spread towards her, making her cough. She tried to wave the dust away in front of her, but she only coughed harder.

The dust settled, and all that was left was a giant gaping hole at the entrance, in full view of the people near the wreckage. Dahlia looked at the concerned and confused looks they were giving her, and could only let out a defeated sigh.

“Alright, fine,” she said to herself. “I’ll tell her now.”

As she stood up, a stranger walked up to her hesitantly. From his white shirt covered in dirt and mud, Dahlia guessed he was the gardener living just a few blocks away. "Excuse me, ma'am." he said. "Are you alright?"

Dahlia dusted her clothes. Faint clouds of smoke came off from them and rose into the air, then quickly dissipated. "Yeah, I am. Don't worry," she replied. "Thanks for the concern."

The man pointed to the entrance. "Does your establishment usually do... this?"

"What, collapse? Yeah, does it all the time."

"Well, if you say so," he replied, trailing off. "Shouldn't you be at the market fair as well, too? Make the most of the Golden Week."

"I couldn't make it this year. It's too far from Rosavern nowadays." Dahlia walked dejectedly past him. "Well, not that it matters. I'm going there, anyway."

"Huh? Why?"

"The only one who can fix this place is there with Camellia," she replied, and groaned. "Ugh, Camellia."

"Oh, the blacksmith?"

"Yep."

"The road there is quite long, and the shortcuts are infested with puffbits this season. Are you sure you'll be okay?"

"I'll manage. I'm used to this."

She walked inside the bar, and came out shortly after, holding a small flask covered by a small piece of cloth on top. A green liquid glowed and swirled inside it. She stepped a few feet away, and threw the bottle at the hole, much to the surprise of the stranger and the people still looking curiously at her. It shattered, and the liquid spread across the ground.

A transparent, faintly green screen rose from below, pushing away the pieces of debris there both inside and outside. It reached the top of the doorframe, shimmering slightly, and closing the hole off, though not covering it from people's view.

"What is this?" the stranger asked.

"A screen potion from Silas. I thought it'd come in handy someday."

"Huh. You really are used to this," he remarked.

"Ah, I lied. This is the first time this has happened," Dahlia said, earning a confused look from him. "But I figured it was going to happen someday, so I thought I'd prepare anyway."

Dahlia walked off and waved back at him. "I'll be going now. Again, thanks for your concern," she said.

He waved back, and took a long look at the wreckage behind him. Dahlia thought she had seen enough of it herself, and looked away.

Rumors spread quickly in Caldemount, and soon, even the people that were far from Rosavern were giving her concerned looks. Dahlia just blankly ignored them. She knew those people meant well, and the gaping hole in her establishment would normally concern her, especially for its reputation. However, with how sudden everything happened, she didn't care enough to be worried anymore. If the situation could get worse, she doubted it would be enough to faze her.

She had planned on taking one of the shorter off-road paths like the man earlier mentioned, but those trails were a lot more dangerous than they usually were during puffbit season. The pink, bunny-like animals are fierce creatures during this period, becoming as territorial as the butterflits of Griffondell. It was the occasional massive nuisance for Dahlia. Rosavern wasn’t situated inside puffbit territory, but it was just close enough that the occasional group harassed the inn and drove customers away. On the worst days, no one would even go at all. It was enough to convince her to just take the far longer, but safer roads inside the city.

As she sauntered amidst the noise, a familiar figure passed her in the distance. She looked at his peach hair and beige uniform, along with his leather tool belt, and lit up as she recognized him.

“Peanut!” she shouted, waving at him.

The person in question stopped in his tracks and looked towards her. After a moment, he recognized her and waved back, a red curvy dagger in hand. “Hi, Dahlia,” he said, softly.

Dahlia strode briskly towards Peanut, and moved in for a hug, who returned it. “It’s been so long!” she said as they parted.

Peanut smiled slightly. “ It has.”

“What are you doing in Caldemount? Taking a break?”

“Yes. I wanted Belladona to fix my armor, but I didn’t see her in her shop.”

“Hardworking even in your day-off! You haven’t changed a bit,” Dahlia said. Then she stopped. “Oh hey, I’m going to Belladona, too.”

“Why?”

“I need her to fix uh... some supports at Rosavern.”

“You know where she is?”

“She’s with a friend at the town center. I was going to take the path through Puff Pasture, but the puffbits are very fierce this time of year.”

Peanut lit up a bit. “Oh, I can take you through there, then. Puffbits shouldn’t be too much trouble. Just show me the way.”

“Nice! It’s settled, then. It’s this way,” Dahlia said, pointing to a gap between two houses behind her. Peanut, though a bit surprised, followed her.

The two went towards the gap, which revealed an open, green area at the end. In the distance, they could see a straight trail that stretched towards a barely visible part of town. A few scattered puffbits were already eyeing them, but none were close enough that they encroached on the animals’ territory.

Dahlia pointed towards its direction. “That’s the town center. And that’s the trail we have to follow.”

“Oh, I haven’t gone through this part of Puff Pasture before,” Peanut replied.

“Well, most people generally never go through here. There’s too many puffbits and even pufforts here for them to handle.”

Peanut paused. “You wouldn’t be leading us to a path that’s too dangerous, are you?” he asked in an uncharacteristically worried tone.

“Don’t worry about it!” said Dahlia. “You’ve taken down so many pufforts already. Puffbits are nothing against your dagger.”

"If you say so," he said, smiling. The two started walking in the trail.

“Actually, come to think of it, aren’t there supposed to be blacksmiths in uh...” Dahlia paused for a bit. “Where were you stationed again a few years ago?”

“Valley of Gold,” Peanut responded.

“Yeah, Valley of Gold.”

“There is, but Mr. Xad has mostly been busy helping close off the trade deals between the humans and Goldins ever since then. I never had the time to ask him in the times I was there. Asteria has also been busy as a representative for humans too, so I couldn’t consult with her.”

Dahlia’s eyes widened.

“Oooh, Asteria,” she said. A playful smirk creased her face. “Could she perhaps be a ‘special’ friend of yours?”

“No, no. Not at all,” Peanut said bashfully. She’s as much a friend as you are to me.”

Dahlia chuckled. "She must be a very good friend, then.”

“She is."

Some rustling noises in the distance caught his attention. Peanut turned to their direction.

A group of puffbits were approaching the two quickly. Peanut entered a defensive stance, holding his dagger in front, while Dahlia stood behind him. She looked slightly concerned, though strangely unfazed.

“Well, that was quick,” she remarked.

“You should back away more. There’s quite a bit of them,” Peanut said.

“It’s fine. I can handle a puffbit or three. And I trust you.”

Peanut chuckled. “Well, alright then.”

The puffbits growled in a high-pitched, almost deafening voice, making what little teeth they had almost look intimidating. It betrayed the delicate look of their pink skin and the fluffy hairs of their tuft tails. Their small almond-shaped bodies hopped vigorously, getting closer and closer with each hop. Peanut lowered his legs and held his dagger tightly. He didn’t have his shield with him, so he merely pointed the weapon in front of him.

Three puffbits lunged towards him. He struck at the first with the end of the dagger, disorienting and stunning it. The other two stopped and became hesitant to approach him, but soon jumped at him as well. He struck the second in a similar manner, and it fell mid-hop towards the ground.

The third, and the rest of the puffbits stopped. Though their hops remained vigorous, none of them were getting closer. The third stopped hopping for a moment and lowered its tail. Peanut loosened his grip and waited for its next move.

The puffbit went for his hands. He raised it and jumped back, slashing at the animal’s tuft tail. The force of the swing threw it off balance. As it tried to regain its footing, Peanut charged at it, and struck it harder than the other two. It was unconscious before it could stand.

They lay on the ground, and the rest scattered upon seeing them. The attack ended as swiftly as it started. Peanut lowered his dagger and looked at the unconscious puffbits below him. “I think that’s all of them,” he said.

He heard more rustling voices behind him, and raised his dagger as he turned around. However, he was too late. Three puffbits were already lunging at him, baring their teeth and screeching loudly. His eyes widened. He crossed his arms in front of him, and braced for impact.

He heard several loud thuds and instinctively moved his body back. However, nothing happened.

He looked past his arms, and saw the puffbits unconscious and laying on the ground, in the same manner as the ones he took down. He looked up and saw Dahlia holding several large rocks.

“Oh, dear Eolin, that was a close one,” she said. She dropped the rocks and ran towards Peanut. “You alright?”

“Yes, I am,” he replied. “Don’t worry. I was ready to take one or two hits." He put his dagger back in its holster.

Peanut chuckled. “I don’t think you need me here after all," he said.

"Heh, I can handle several puffbits, but not much more, and certainly not alone," Dahlia replied.

"Then good job," he raised his fist towards Dahlia, who raised hers and lightly tapped Peanut's.

"You too," she replied.

The two recollected themselves, and dusted their clothes. After being sure they were clean, they resumed their walking.

“This is far more trouble than I expected just to reach a market,” Dahlia said.

“Well, you did say it was puffbit season, after all. Winter's coming soon. They're probably protecting their food,” Peanut said.

"Or their children."

Peanut waved off a leaf that was falling slowly near him. It flew near Dahlia instead, who waved it off as well. "Ah, sorry," Peanut said.

"It's fine," Dahlia replied. The leaf fell behind them. Peanut looked back and saw it rest on the ground.

“Who is this friend Belladona’s with?” he asked, turning to Dahlia.

Dahlia let out a long, exasperated sigh. “Ugh. It’s Camellia.”

“Ah.”

Dahlia looked deflated as she talked about her. “I didn’t want to mention her.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “It just feels like I would’ve lost.”

“Lost?” Peanut asked, amused. “I don’t really get it, but I don’t think she’d care about it much,” he said. “What do you have against her, anyway?”

“Well, I mean, she’s just such a prudish, rich jerk! She keeps going on about how drinking is wrong and dirty and stuff, when she hasn’t even tried it for herself!”

“Well,” Peanut said, pausing for a moment, “drinking isn’t for everyone, is it?”

“Yeah, I get that, but she just comes off as someone who avoids people she deems ‘commoners.’” Dahlia made air-quotes with her hands at the last word.

“And where do you get that impression?”

“Her holier-than-thou attitude, her hoity-toity aura. I mean, I don’t know what exactly, but she, I don’t know, she-” Dahlia paused. “Ugh, she just annoys me to no end!”

Peanut laughed softly, looking very amused. “I think you’re judging her too quickly here.”

Dahlia let out another exasperated sigh. “Ugh, whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

-------------------------

Camellia adjusted the sign on her stall, then came down from the chair she stood on. “Camellia’s Wares and Trades,” it said proudly in pink, capital letters, sitting on the middle of the stall’s pointed, pink roof. They were as pink as her hair, eyeliner, even her clothing. Her bonnet was lined with a yellow ribbon, and was adorned by a rose and two white ribbons. Her dress reached all the way to her feet, which gave her a composed and poised look even as she was fixing the sign.

It had kept getting crooked for a while now thanks to a certain someone who kept pounding on the counter. She refused to leave Camellia alone.

“Hey, be careful!” she said as the said person pounded at it again, laughing uncontrollably. Various objects and wares displayed on it shook in their place as she did.

“And then I told her, ‘Ma’am, your armor’s perfectly fine, it just needs to be frozen in ice to make it sturdier.’ Two weeks later, she came back to me and her armor was inside a block of ice! I couldn’t stop laughing!”

“Ms. Belladona, please leave,” said Camellia.

“For the last time, Cam-"

“And please don’t call me that.”

“-call me Belle! None of those unnecessary formalities,” Belladona said, hiccupping in between words. She had striking magenta hair in contrast with the light metal armor she wore. Underneath it, she wore a black suit and pants, though the armor made it look as if the two were connected. Her boots and gloves were also made from leather to match, along with a tool belt slung around her hip.

“Business partners like us need to stick together!” she said, as she took another big shot from her bottle, then slammed it loudly on the counter.

“No,” Camellia replied, absent-mindedly. She stopped listening to Belladona the moment she said ‘Belle,’ but instinctively said no anyway for what was likely the sixth time.

Belladona drunkenly scanned her wares. She looked at the assortment of fruits, flowers, weapons, and other materials on the counter or on shelves above it. The foliage enclosed in bottles gave the stall a colorful, garden-like appearance, while the weapons’ metallic visage adorning the dark, wooden racks gave it a hard, polished sheen. The wooden counter’s light, shiny veneer reflected much like the metal stands flanking it, and the bottles on top of it. It was as much an artistic display as it was a merchant’s.

Belladona eyed the various plants, then lowered her brows. “Wait,” she said, “where are your potions?”

“That’s a trade I’m not proficient in yet,” Camellia replied.

“Why?” Belladona rested her head on the counter.

Camilla gave her an annoyed look. “I haven’t made enough connections to be a trusted merchant for it,” she said. “Merchants take their reputations very seriously, and I won’t pass in their eyes. I do need to expand soon, though, if I want to stay in the business.”

Belladona snored.

Camellia let out a frustrated grunt and slammed her hand on the counter. Belladona jolted awake, but immediately moved to rest her head on it again.

“Honestly,” she said, “didn’t you say you were here to tell me something important?” she asked, wiping the counter. Belladona seemed to be falling asleep for the second time, hugging her bottle tightly.

“Ah, I did, actually,” Belladona replied softly.

“And?”

“I don’t know, I forgot,” she said, hugging the bottle even tighter.

Camellia groaned. “Ms. Belladona, please leav- oh, for the love of Eolin!”

The sign became crooked again. Belladona had completely fallen asleep, snoring softly. Camellia frustratedly stood on her chair again and reached to fix the sign.

As she unsuccessfully tried to push it back to its place, a loud voice startled her off the chair. She nearly lost her balance, wobbling and shaking with the chair, but she managed to stabilize it and regain her footing.

She hurriedly jumped off the chair and scanned her surroundings. A human-shaped silhouette took form as it got closer, running, then soon became visible a block away. However, the crowd of other people and stalls made it difficult for Camellia to make out their face.

From the distance, she could see their creamy yellow hair and the blue cape they were wearing. As they got closer, she could make out a white shirt underneath the cape, along with a blue headband, a leather belt, and boots. They got close enough that Camellia could make out their face, and as soon as she saw the wheat stalk in their mouth, she immediately recognized them.

“Silas!” she shouted, calling out to him. “Was that you?”

Silas stopped near the stall, panting heavily. “Yes, sorry,” he replied after catching his breath, taking the stalk out of his mouth. “I was calling out to you. It’s a bit urgent.”

He let out a large breath. “I must say, your stall was hard to find. I wasn’t expecting that from someone like you.”

“Ah, that’s...” Camellia waved her hand dismissively. “The spots near the center were filled far more quickly than I expected. I went on a trade meeting on the week of preparations because I thought I had time. Before I knew it, I had to settle for this one.”

“Ah, I see-" He heard someone snoring softly, snapping him out of his fatigue. He looked to the counter, and saw Belladona’s sleeping figure.

“Is that... Belladona?” he asked, pointing at her.

“Ignore her,” Camellia replied plainly.

He nodded hesitantly. "Sure," he said.

"So, what is it that you need?"

“I needed to buy something from you real quick,” he said. “I’ve got a big order I need to fill right now, and I’m missing a lot of fireblooms.”

He handed a piece of paper to Camellia, who took it. “The Postknight Academy stationed a lot of their units at Caldemount for next week, so they need a batch of green potions.”

Camellia skimmed the paper. “How big of a batch do they need?”

“One of my large-sized ones.”

“Ah, that’ll indeed be a lot, then,” Camellia said. She gave the paper back to Silas.

“They don’t have to be enhancers. Cleansers will do.”

Camellia lit up. “Oh, then take what you need.” She pointed to the section of her stall filled with all sorts of plants and various materials. “We’ve recently managed to secure a particularly fruitful trade of fireblooms and grottoshrooms.”

“Oh, grottoshrooms? I haven’t worked with that much before.” Silas moved closer to inspect the said plant. Several bottles were filled with them. Although they looked like typical blue mushrooms, he found the white, star-like spots covering each one peculiar, particularly the faint white glow emanating from them. It was still visible even under the shaded sunlight.

“How effective will they make my potions?”

“Very effective. An alchemist in the Valley of Gold regularly uses them, and her potions were as clear as water, but still had that striking color. Goes down the throat very easily.”

“How did it taste?”

“The medical potions tasted awful, unfortunately,” Camellia chuckled. “There’s still not much we can do in that regard. The other potions that used grottoshrooms, however, tasted wonderfully.”

“Hm.” Silas looked at the other bottles. They were filled with more exotic-looking materials. He eyed the green, spiral-shaped galesips for a few moments, but looked away eventually.

“I’ll take five batches of the grottoshrooms as well. I suppose I can experiment a little,” he said.

“Ah, that should be enough to create your usual batch.” Camellia said cheerfully, then reached beneath the counter. A few moments later, she took out two pink chests with heart-shaped locks. “I’ll pack your order now,” she said.

She took three bottles and poured their contents into the first chest, stopping at half of the third bottle. She then took several bottles of fireblooms and poured the pinecone-shaped flowers into the second chest. Their fiery yellow heads contrasted with their red and green petals. After making sure there were enough, she closed the chests and put them inside a paper bag.

“Thank you for your patronage, Silas,” she said, giving it to him.

“My pleasure,” he said. Then he paused for a moment.

"Actually, my patronage may soon extend beyond just being a regular buyer.”

Camellia stopped. “Oh?” she replied, intrigued. “This is news to me.”

“Lots of business opportunities opened when Peanut defeated those cultists,” Silas said. “There’s a sudden rise in demand for postknights now, so I’ll need to keep up. This order is likely just a taste of things to come. I know you’ve been looking to expand your trades to potions as well.”

“...I am, indeed." Camellia stared at Silas. “What do you need from me?”

“Well, nothing’s set in stone yet, but...” Silas took out a blue piece of paper, and set it on the counter. Camellia took the paper, and read it.

“Travel papers?”

Silas grinned. “For my wife. I want her to go with you someday.”

Camellia’s eyes widened. “With me?”

“I’ll give you batches of my potions to take into your trade deals. Sell them in your travels, and you’ll take a cut of the profits.”

Camellia nodded slowly. “And I suppose your wife will be there to look after things?”

“Yes. But, in return, she can be one of your assistants as well. Free of charge.”

“And your daughter?” Camellia said.

She put the paper down on the counter. Silas took it and put it back inside his pocket.

“She’s staying with me,” he replied.

Camellia paused, then furrowed her brows. She exhaled. “It’s a good offer, Silas. No, it’s a great offer. Your potions have the potential to take off, especially deeper into the outskirts of Kurestal where people need them far more."

“But...?”

“But the trading business is a complicated network, and some wares have their own specific set of rules.” Camellia pointed to the products she’s selling. “Things like raw materials are usually simple since their quality can be judged from just looking at them, but goods like weapons and potions need to come from a reputable source.”

“Aren’t you a reputable source yourself?”

“I am, yes. My father acquired a spot in Lumero’s list back when he was still the one running the business.”

“Lumero?”

“Ah, it’s a guild made of other merchants that act as representatives for us. They’re the ones that oversee operations in West Kurestal. They establish connections between traders, verify their credibility, and so forth.”

Silas lowered his brows. “Then, what’s the problem? You’re deemed trustworthy already.”

Because some merchants aren’t satisfied with just one source.” Camellia reached beneath her counter and pulled out a red, curvy dagger.

“This is a feral dagger,” she said, holding it out to Silas. He examined it carefully. “I acquired it from a trade deal in Griffondell. Its fiery handle is an eye-catching one, and its dense but light metal disorients its enemies. It’s a very popular weapon. I’ve seen it from at least four other merchants.”

She reached beneath the counter again, and pulled out a thin sheet of metal. Camellia held up the front towards Silas. On top of it, signatures and names were emblazoned and laid out in an organized manner.

“And every single one of them has seen it from each other as well.” She pointed to a signature at one end of the metal sheet, reading like her name. “This is my signature.”

Silas gave the sheet a puzzled look. “Every merchant does this?”

“No, but just enough that having something like this comes in handy. Weapons and potions usually require special verification systems like these. And it changes from time to time.” Camellia looked at the sheet sardonically. “I told you, it’s complicated,” she said.

She put the sheet down and looked at Silas intently. “If you want your potions to be sold by merchants, you need to gain the approval of at least five of us. They can’t just be anyone either. Merchants know who each other are, and they won’t accept signatures of those that they don’t. If they haven’t heard of you, or you don’t have an established reputation, you’re not getting their signature.”

She put the dagger and the metal sheet back beneath the counter, then set her arms down. “I can talk to two that I trust and trust me, and you’ll surely have mine, but I don’t know any potion merchants beyond that.”

Silas looked down, and paused for a moment. “Well, I suppose I didn’t expect this to be without its problems,” he said, chuckling. “Finding a trusted merchant is going to be hard, though.”

Camellia smiled pensively. “I want to make this work as much as you. I need to expand my trades soon as well. But finding other traders like that is no easy task without existing connections.”

Belladona suddenly jolted awake. Silas and Camellia jumped back in surprise as she stretched her arms and yawned loudly, then rubbed her eyes. She noticed the bottle her arms were hugging tightly, and made a puzzled face.

“Where am I?” she asked.

Silas and Camellia breathed a sigh of relief.

“I had completely forgotten you were there,” Camellia said.

“Oh, hi Camellia,” Belladona replied. Unlike her drunk demeanor earlier, this time, she talked with a calm, composed voice. She turned to her back, and saw Silas. “You too, Silas,” she told him.

“Likewise,” he replied.

She looked around her. “I’m not... interrupting anything, am I?”

Camellia sighed. “It’s fine. You already did.”

“Ah,” Belladona said sheepishly. “My apologies.” She took her bottle and stood up. “It seems I was a tad too drunk earlier.”

Camellia stared blankly. “A tad?”

“Hm?” Belladona said, giving a clueless look. She had taken a leather bag from the end of the counter and was rummaging it for something.

Camellia sighed again. “Nevermind.”

“How do you get sober so quickly anyway?” Silas asked. “You go to Rosavern almost everyday, yet I haven’t seen you once get a hangover.”

“I’m blessed by the gods of Ameranne, I suppose,” she said with an amused face. “I reckon the people there are my people.”

Camellia rolled her eyes. “If you’re blessed by the gods of Ameranne, they’d at least give you some of its wine.”

“Ah, a trade deal with the gods. That doesn’t sound half bad,” Belladona replied. “It reminds me more of Dahlia than you, though. Heh," she continued.

“Ah!” she suddenly exclaimed. “Dahlia! I remember what I was going to tell you now.”

“Huh?” Camellia said. Belladona looked through a different pocket in her bag, and after a few moments, took out a piece of paper.

“Another piece of paper?” Camellia whispered, mostly to herself.

“I’ll be fixing Rosavern’s supports tomorrow. And, while I was out looking for materials, I heard some interesting things from a fellow blacksmith.”

-------------------------

Peanut undid the straps of his toolbelt and gave it to Dahlia. “You can roll it to make it easier to carry," he said.

"Ah, right,” Dahlia replied.

"Thanks for carrying them for me."

"Of course! It seemed counterproductive for my bodyguard to carry a heavy load."

"Heh," Peanut said. "I suppose you can call me that.”

Dahlia rolled the toolbelt quickly, and held it in one hand. Peanut knelt on one knee and reached for the bootstrap at his feet. He took out and handed Dahlia a pentagonal bottle plugged by a wooden cork. Inside it, a lavender liquid swirled and glowed lightly.

“Your potion was green when you left Caldemount, right?” Dahlia asked, inspecting the bottle, then putting it down.

“It was, but the alchemist in Valley of Gold sold me that.” Peanut stood up, and both started walking again. “It was quite expensive, but it’s made deliveries safer even in the deeper part of the caves.”

“Postknights buy their own stuff?”

“Most of it is provided for by the academy, but we buy some of it. I heard they’re going to start trying to provide for our potions starting next week, though.”

Dahlia grinned. “It seems like the academy has gotten bigger since you left.”

“Yeah, it has. I’m glad for it,” Peanut replied. “How about you, though? How has managing Rosavern been?”

“Oh, man. It’s been hell.” Dahlia slumped wearily. “The building’s falle- falling apart, business has been slow, and the damn puffbits drive away what little customers I get nowadays.”

“Business has been slow?” Peanut asked. “I had expected it to be booming by now, considering your father’s reputation.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not the only inn in Caldemount.”

“You’ve always had the best beds out of all the inns I’ve stayed in, though. Even others say so.”

“We’re not exactly situated in the best place. Rosavern was built where it is when most of Caldemount’s business still wasn’t in the town center. Nowadays, not as many people go there.”

A plaintive look covered Dahlia’s face. She sighed, then looked on. “I promised my father I’d carry on its legacy,” she said. “But I’ve often wondered if it’s just time to move on soon.”

Peanut looked at Dahlia’s pensive expression, then looked away. He had never seen Dahlia wear a look like that before. He turned as silent as her, hesitant to speak. Several seconds stretched into what felt like minutes, and only the rustling of puffbits filled the silence. Peanut saw the stalls of the market grow bigger and clearer as they got closer. Realizing the silence would be broken soon, he finally spoke.

“Well, I don’t really have a right answer to that one. I don’t think it even has one. But,” he said, letting out a long breath, “I think it’d be even more of a loss if you gave up now.”

Dahlia’s expression softened.

Peanut continued, “More than anything, I think your father would want you to fail because you tried instead of doing nothing.”

Dahlia remained silent for several seconds. Then she chuckled once, then twice, then thrice, until she was laughing softly. The sound of her laughter filled the silence. “That is so like you,” she said.

“Like me?”

“It was so corny.”

Peanut smiled. “But did it work?”

Dahlia’s laughs slowed, then lessened until she could speak. “Yeah,” she said. “Yeah, I think it did.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, I’ll try my best. Thanks, Peanut.” Dahlia lifted her fist up and held it towards Peanut.

“Of course,” Peanut replied, holding his fist up as well and lightly tapping Dahlia’s. “You’ll do well, I’m sure.”

The loud hustle and bustle of crowds soon became loud enough that Dahlia and Peanut took notice. “Ah,” Dahlia said with her usual smile. “I think we’re here.”

The trail ended behind a stall filled with a variety of fruits and vegetables. Some were a faint yellow, but most were rich greens. A green-haired girl wearing similarly green clothes and a slightly darker green beret was selling them to a modest crowd. Dahlia and Peanut walked around it, earning some confused stares from the girl and the crowd. They tried not to return their looks, though that didn’t help much.

“Uh... excuse me?” the girl said, suddenly calling out to them. They slowly turned to her. An awkward mood filled the air. “Where did you guys come from?”

Dahlia sighed. “I suppose there’s no use beating around the bush,” she said. “We came through Puff Pasture.”

“During puffbit season?”

“Yes.”

The girl’s eyes widened. She suddenly ran towards Dahlia and shook her hand eagerly, much to the latter’s bewilderment. “My name is Elena,” she said, still shaking Dahlia’s hand. “It’s very nice to meet you!”

“Uhh, yes, it’s nice to meet you too,” she replied. Her hand was getting tired, and Elena still hasn’t let it go. “Can you let go of my hand, please?”

Elena did as she was asked. “Ah, sorry, sorry!” she said with an embarrassed smile, scratching her head sheepishly. “I just wanted be as friendly as possible because I need something from you guys.”

“I... appreciate the honesty?” Dahlia looked even more bewildered.

“Thanks!” Elena said. “I try my best.” She ran back to her stall. She swiftly gave the remaining customers their orders, thanked them as they left, then went running back to the two.

“She’s... lively,” Peanut remarked.

“She could make a good postknight with that energy, honestly,” Dahlia said as Elena stopped near them, showing no signs of exhaustion.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Elena said, turning to Peanut, “but I just noticed the license near your dagger’s holster and thought I could get a recommendation to get into the academy because I also want to be a postknight!”

“Oh, wow.” Dahlia gave up trying to predict Elena, and just let the peculiar girl baffle her further. She had thought that with the way Elena asked them about going through Puff Pasture, she was going to ask them to protect her stall or some other job befitting their feat.

“I... yes, I keep it there,” Peanut said as he reached for the purple card sticking out from his front pocket, and took it out. “Sorry, how did you notice that?”

“I really love postknights! I visit your academy once a month with my twin siblings and I just watch you guys run around doing postknight things and it’s the always the best six hours of my life!”

Peanut nodded slowly. “Six... hours?”

“Yes! I try to talk to some of you guys, but I’m always scared! Oh, there’s this one silvery white-haired girl that looked even shyer than me, though. She was cute!”

“Are you talking about Pearl?”

“I think so. Maybe. I don’t really know!” Elena said. She laughed loudly as she did.

“Yes, well...” Peanut tried to recollect himself. “You don’t really need a recommendation to get in.”

Elena gasped. “Really?”

“Yes. You just need to talk to go into the academy and talk to Cassandra. She’ll tell you what to do.”

“Oh no! But I’m too shy to go in there!”

“I... I disagree.”

“Ah! I got carried away asking about postknights!” Elena said, covering her mouth.

“You think?” Dahlia replied.

“I was going to ask you two to protect my stall from puffbits!”

Dahlia stared blankly.

“I’m willing to pay for your services. I need to protect my goods from those pesky puffbits, after all!”

“Well, Peanut,” Dahlia said. “Go spend time with your new friend.”

Peanut’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

Elena pranced around excitedly, her hands shyly covering her mouth. “Oh my gosh, I’m honored to be your friend too, Mr. Peanut!”

“Wait, no-”

“Please,” Dahlia said blankly. “I’ll make it up to you, please.”

“I mean, I-” Peanut looked at Elena, still jumping around where she stood, then at Dahlia’s empty yet pleading stare. He let out a deep, long sigh. “Fine. You owe me one, Dahlia.”

“I know,” Dahlia replied. She turned to Elena. “Well, have fun with Peanut, Elena! He’s a very nice guy, I promise.”

Somehow, Elena’s movements became even more frantic. “I know!”

Dahlia smiled wryly. “I’ll tell Belladona about your order, Peanut.”

Peanut looked like he immediately regretted his decision. It almost made Dahlia want to go back to him, but she managed to walk away. In the distance, Peanut and Elena’s voice became softer and softer.

“Woah, is that a feral dagger?” she heard Elena say.

“I... yes. Yes, it is,” Peanut replied wearily.

That was as much as Dahlia could hear of their conversation. She walked more quickly so she didn’t have to hear Peanut and feel further guilty for him. She would just have to repay him in some way later.

Dahlia ambled casually amidst the crowds. The market was as busy and chaotic as Dahlia expected. Customers walked in random paths around each other, while vendors ran around their stalls busy managing the line of customers in front of them. Some frantically ran to other stalls to get change. The dark gray roads of the town center winded inside and through each other, leading to more roads outside it. Various stalls with differing colors, and the wares inside them gave the market a lively and energetic atmosphere. As much as it was a busy event, it was also an exciting one, much to Dahlia’s delight. She had been looking forward to going to events like these once she could take a day off managing Rosavern.

She started searching for a pink stall, one she couldn’t possibly miss. Camellia loved the color pink. It was another thing about her that Dahlia was annoyed at so much. She personally didn’t care for the color, nor what other people thought of it, but somehow, knowing that Camellia likes it so much makes her hate it in return. She knew it was petty, but she couldn’t help herself.

As she walked through the stalls, she saw various wares being sold. One stall was selling a multitude of dairy products. The vendors were handing over eggs, milk, butter, and others. In their hurried efforts to speed up the line, a tray of eggs fell near one of them. Dahlia winced, and moved on.

One stall was selling ale and other alcoholic drinks. Tiny bubbles rose from below the large cups and bottles to the top of their blonde and amber drinks. Dahlia almost wanted to go there, and buy herself a drink, though she managed to remind herself what she was there for. She made a mental note of beating the stall in the next market fair, assuming she could attend it.

Another red stall lined with white stripes was selling weapons, shields, and a whole assortment of metallic paraphernalia. She also saw a metal arm among the weapons, and raised her eyebrows further when she saw a one-armed man with a burly mustache eyeing it.

“That’s a thing?” she said to herself.

“Oh. Hey there, Dahlia,” a voice in the distance says.

Dahlia turned towards the voice and saw Silas walking quickly towards her direction, though he stopped near her. “Oh, hey Silas. Has the potion business been good?”

“It has, actually,” he replied. “I’ve been looking for ways to expand my reach through Camellia, too. It looks like it might just work.”

Dahlia’s eyes widened. “Wait, Camellia?”

“Yeah, I was just discussing it with her. Belladona’s discussing something else with her, too, but I had to go already.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s uh...” Silas paused, and thought for a moment, then pointed to a corner near them. “Go right through here, and just keep going straight. Her stall is mostly pink. You shouldn’t miss it.”

Dahlia ran towards the corner, and looked to her back, waving at Silas. “Thanks, Silas! I’ll see you later.”

Silas waved back modestly, then went on his way.

Dahlia passed through a myriad of stalls, but none were pink. As she ran further, she saw a few ones that looked vaguely the color she was looking for, but none of them were as striking as Dahlia knew Camellia’s stall was going to be, or were really just light red stalls that looked pink in the bright sunlight. The lack of people in this part of the market helped since it meant she had a full view of all the stalls lining the long, straight path she was running on. However, even then, she couldn't find anything.

After a few minutes, she stopped running, realizing she wasn’t going to see Camellia's stall anytime soon. She panted a bit, then looked around her. She scratched her head.

“Why on earth is your stall so deep in the market?” she whispered.

As Dahlia regained her breath, an old woman passed from the stall beside her. The woman was wearing a white apron with brown clothes beneath it, and a blue cloth wrapped around her head, displaying a chef's hat in front. Dahlia figured she was a baker. She held out her hand and lightly tapped the would-be baker's shoulder, catching her attention.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” she said. “Have you seen Camellia’s stall? Popular trader in these parts. You can’t miss her.”

“Ohh...” the old woman drawled. “Yes, honey... I have...”

Dahlia snapped to attention. “Where is it?” she asked eagerly.

She slowly raised her left hand, her frail body trying its best to exert an outwardly negligible effort. Dahlia felt impatient, but mostly pity and guilt at the woman’s attempts. She almost wanted to stop her. After several seconds, the woman pointed to the left. Dahlia looked towards it.

“Here? Ma’am, there’s only a blue stall here,” she said, confused.

“No, no, no...” the woman replied. “My stall... Behind...”

Dahlia paused for a moment, then lit up in recognition. “Oh! I didn't know there were still stalls behind here. Thank you, ma’am!" she said. "Will you be okay here alone?”

“Ha!” the woman replied with an unnaturally spirited voice. “Don’t worry, honey... This woman can still... handle herself...”

Dahlia wanted to help her, but decided to trust her on her words. She sounded like she could anyway. She ran towards the direction she pointed. “Thank you again!” she said, waving and looking back at her.

The old woman waved back.

A short trail behind the blue stall led to an open, circular area. Two trees stood at its edges. A few animals – squirrels, moles, and raccoons – ran around scavenging leftovers scattered around it. Various stalls encircled it, making it very difficult for anyone who didn’t realize such an area even existed to reach it. At its center, among other smaller ones, stood a large, pink stall. “Camellia’s Wares and Trades,” a sign above it said proudly in capital letters, colored in the same striking hue.

“Ugh, finally,” she said. “The idiot must have ran out of spots near the center to set up on.”

In the distance, she could see Belladona’s magenta hair & light armor and Camellia’s very, very pink clothing. Just as Silas said, it looked like Belladona was talking intently to Camellia about something. She walked towards them. From the distance, she could make out their conservation.

“-just wouldn’t work,” Camellia said. “I do need someone, but it can’t just be anyone. You know that.”

“You’re not at a position to choose right now. This could be your chance,” Belladona replied.

“If this woman doesn’t turn out to be someone we can rely on, it could make my reputation worse.”

“Yeah, but-“

“Hi, guys,” Dahlia said. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Camellia and Belladona looked towards her. Once they realized it was her, Belladona smiled while Camellia grimaced.

“Hey, Dahlia,” Belladona said.

“What are you doing here?” Camellia said with an annoyed tone.

“Nice to meet you too, Camellia,” Dahlia said sarcastically. She smiled facetiously at her. “How has business been going?”

“None of your business.”

“Nice pun."

Camellia groaned. “Please just answer the question.”

Dahlia laughed, looking entertained. “Sure, sure," she said. She turned to Belladona. “I was looking for you, actually.”

“Oh, me?” Belladona replied, slightly surprised. “What is it? Is this about fixing Rosavern?”

“Yeah...” Dahlia looked hesitant to elaborate. “The front doors fell. There’s just a giant hole there now.”

“Oh. Oh dear,” Belladona said as she winced. Even Camellia almost looked like pitying Dahlia, but caught herself.

"Wait, so you just left Rosavern open like that?" Belladona asked.

"Ah, no. No, no. Of course not. I bought a screen potion from Silas a while ago in case something like this happens," Dahlia replied. "It was expensive, but worth it."

"You were expecting this to happen, huh?"

"Yeah..."

Then yeah. Yeah, sure," Belladona said as she slung her bag around her shoulder. I’ll start what I can right now.”

“Thanks," Dahlia replied. "Oh, and Peanut also needs you to fix his armor.”

“Oh, Peanut’s back?” Camellia asked.

“Yes, Camellia,” Dahlia said derisively, still as sarcastic as before, earning an annoyed glare from the merchant.

“Sure. I’ll handle those tomorrow. Thanks for telling me.” Belladona rummaged her bag, opening the next pocket once she was done with the previous one. “Ah, I have a few tools missing. I’ll need to get them from the shop. We’ll have to continue our talk some other day, Camellia.”

“That’s fine,” Camellia replied.

“What were you two talking about?” Dahlia asked.

“Ah... business talk. Mostly for Camellia,” Belladona replied. “Ah!” she suddenly exclaimed. “Dahlia. I just had a great idea!”

Camellia looked taken aback and stared at Belladona curiously.

“Ok...?” Dahlia said, confused.

“We were talking about this blacksmith acquaintance of mine. He told me about this interesting noblewoman. Her family's about to come back from some sort of business trip, and she's going to meet them somewhere in this part of the city”

“Lots of nobility come and go in the streets all the time,” Dahlia remarked. “It’s no big deal.”

“Yes, but this one is different. She's allegedly been recommending establishments she really liked on the other side of town to the people there recently,” Belladona replied. “It’s actually quite crazy. People really trust her words. Just being visited by her is already a big deal.”

“Camellia, can you give Dahlia the piece of paper I gave you?” Belladona told Camellia.

Camellia took the paper out, and reached towards Dahlia. The two looked at each other with mutually irritated looks before Dahlia took it. She scanned the contents of the paper. A few seconds later, she looked baffled.

Belladona smirked at Dahlia's bemused look. “Those are all the names of the rumored establishments that have benefited from her word.”

“There must be at least 15 businesses here.”

“19, to be exact. Like I told you, her word is powerful.”

“And all of these are still doing well today?”

“Not all of them, but most are.”

"Which is still a very big deal." Dahlia trailed off as she read the names of the businesses.

"Exactly."

“Well,” Dahlia said, lowering the piece of paper and looking at Belladona. “How does this concern me?”

“It concerns both of you."

“Wait, what?” Camellia suddenly interjected. “You didn’t tell me about this, Ms. Belladona.”

“Yes, but Dahlia wasn’t here yet.”

“I’m confused,” Dahlia said. “How does this concern both of us?”

“Camellia needs to expand her trades towards potions, and Dahlia needs a patron to keep Rosavern standing.”

“Yes?” Dahlia said, still confused.

“What are you getting at with this?” Camellia asked.

Belladona grinned. She looked at Camellia. “Camellia will fund and sponsor Rosavern enough to return it to its heyday and attract the noblewoman to stay there. That’s the only place I can trust her to like enough to stay in. Don't worry, I can fix the entrance in two days."

She turned to Dahlia. "Meanwhile, Dahlia will talk to her. She will make the noblewoman like her enough that she can ask about potion merchants that would hear Camellia out and would be willing to establish connections.”

Belladona seemed oblivious to the increasingly bewildered looks of Dahlia and Camellia as she pulled them both closer with an eager expression.

“I want you two to work together to gain the trust of the noblewoman, Amethyst.”

Dahlia and Camellia stared at Belladona for the longest time before saying, in sync:

“What?!”