Tavern of Witchita

¿¿¿

It's a sunny day in the forest of Gaia.

Rugged footsteps land and run harshly through the forest soil, snapping twigs along the way as a demon smirks upon running.

The wind plays with the forest leaves ruffling together. It's like the breeze itself is propelling him forward, increasing his speed. As he stumbles and reaches an all too familiar door and sign, he shoves the hatchway open, startling to the with and traveler inside.

"We have a letter~ Check this out!" Horns beams, waving around the perfectly sealed envelope with a red stamp.

It's been a while since they received a letter from the capital. Life in here is faint and quiet.

Narra continues to sort out ingredients with an open ear. Norman rushes to Horns as the demon sets down and opens the letter. You would expect that every humble envelope can carry the most poetic messages at heart, but this one reads quick and simple.

"His majesty Caiden and Dhara's wedding ceremony has been planned. All are invited to come, especially you three, winky face. Thirteen days from now," Norman reads aloud, leaning on the wooden counter while his eyes aimed at the letter.

Matrimony is somewhat an expected thing when it comes to Dhara and Caiden. Those two are, if Narra remembers correctly, 28 years old now? The love in a marrige is simple and pure, who knows what Dhara has in store.

Narra bats an eye to the two boys, the corner of her lips tugged into a smirk. "Would you look at that, a happy ending for those two."

"You got that right," Horns chuckles and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

"Didn't they hate each other at first?"

Norman peers in the conversation, recalling the time when Dhara used to practically glare dead ahead at Caiden. Maybe it was a sign of growing attraction? Or the told tale of enemies to lovers.

"I still don't know how Caiden managed to calm down a Griffin." Horns chuckles.

Their conversation goes on. Narra blurs out on their words as she checks the tea leaves she has in stock. One, two, three, four. And just then, there's a batch almost completely empty.

She slings a satchel over her shoulder and walks over to the door.

"I'm heading out for a bit, okay? We're missing a batch of tea leaves." She informs the two boys who reply with ease, from the giddy Horns to the careful Norman.

"Yes ma'am~"

"Take care!"

With a dagger in hand, Narra kneels down a bush and snips off a small majority of tea leaves, allowing it to further grow back. It smells of the distinct aroma of the tea she first made for Norman.

Memories are precious things. It's been almost two years since she first met the young traveler, and almost two years after helping the kingdom.

The leaves in her hand are more dry than her mouth. She closes her fist over them and feels them crickle, maybe even shatter, she doesn't need to open it again to know that the once whole forms are now only fragments of what they once were.

On the tree they were first buds, then the soft green of spring before maturing to a splendid tad bit darker foilage. But after months and months, they become more fragile and brittle.

They may seem useless to others, but their new form serves Narra and her customers a delivous, soothing cup of tea.

She tucks her harvests into a pouch of her bag and stands up, patting some soil off her tavern uniform as Narra prepares to return to her tavern.

Just then, a rather harsh thud echoes within a distance. It sounds like a bunch of logs have fallen on top of each other. Then she hears cursing from a distance.

"Stupid- Rugged cart!"

Her coal eyes peer past several trees, her sight landing on an elderly man kicking a broken cart, tumbled boxes on the ground, and a horse resting its legs. Someone's experiencing quite the difficultly for an elderly.

A wizened face peers out from under the wedge of a grey flat-cap. A white neat and small beard on his face. The old man seems fairly tall and strong enough to be a senior.

"Sir, can I help you with that?" She offers, allowing herself to come into view. The old man meets her gaze.

"Young lady! If you can, I would appreciate some help."

Narra walks over to the man, pondering for a few seconds. "It could take a while. I have some spare wood inside my tavern. My friends fix your cart, so why don't have a little break? What you do seems tiring."

The man smiles at the witch, appreciating her offer and kindness. "I suppose that's okay. Thank you."

"Narra Stockholm, kind sir." She introduces herself, and for a split second, she saw a change of expression in the old sir. Yet she pays it no mind.

A cup of tea is carefully slid over to the old man. His eyes examine the beverage and he humbly thanks the young witch for the beverage. It isn't as pricey as the other local establishments, and it's quite peaceful in here too.

"Thank you for the tea."

"My pleasure,"

Narra smiles, wiping a separate teacup as the man drinks. The Tavern is as neat and homey as ever. No dust, no clutter, and a warm and welcoming atmosphere. Maybe she needs to re-stock a bit soon. She's running out of coal and wood, not that Narra has the will to chop off the trees that serve as her home.

The door opens and a pink-skinned, red-haired demon peers in. Narra places down the cup to its corresponding place. She turns and waves to the demon. He returns a smile.

"How is it?"

"The wheel is busted, chipped by a rock or something. All it needs is a replacement and Norman is working on it right now." Horns explains in detail, leaning on the doorway with his arms crossed.

Narra smiles at their works.
"Thanks, keep going guys."

"Will do,"

"Hey mister, your cart is fixed." Horns pats the old man's shoulder gently and casually walks away.

"Thank you lots... And miss Stockholm," He turns to Narra and she faces him.

"Yes sir?"

The old man smiles kindly and places a sparkling item into her hands. "I hope to see you soon." And with that, he boards the cart and rides off with his horse.

She watches the old man retreat and opens her hands. Her sight meets with a crystal, a shard, more specifically. It carries a sense of familiarity with the young girl. Like it knows her more than she knows it.

The crystal glows faintly as if it welcomes the girl by some embrace. The colors that shone in the brilliant shine of day resemble much of a pristine and pretty river. This gem, this crystal is a thing no man can find. This crystal belongs to her race. And she is sure, she is rather sure that...

Horns peers worryingly from a distance. Narra has been standing there a bit too long. Maybe she has grown accustomed to the old man and is sad about his departure. "Hey Narra?" He calls.

Narra's wide eyes remain fixed on the glowing shard.

"That man..."

"He's a wizard."