“The Dragon’s Hoard.”
My‑re, Vomarian, and Shadowspire’s Arenamaster’s Egan stood before Westwind’s business establishment. The lamp shop was sandwiched between a hookah smoking lounge and a jewelry shop. The proprietors on either side stood at their entrance and enthusiastically encouraged passersby to come in. Outside the Dragon’s Hoard, a sign swayed in the breeze. Written in fading red letters it read, “Come in and choose wisely. One lamp within will grant three wishes.”
They entered the establishment, which was unusually dark despite being mid-morning. Lamps of various shapes, sizes, and designs were placed in every conceivable nook and cranny. Some of them appeared quite valuable based on the exquisite detail and size but by no means all of them. With little room, My‑re turned sideways, taking precautions not to knock into-.
Bang!
My‑re’s train of thought stopped. She had inadvertently kicked a lamp, causing it to knock into another, then another, causing several hollow ‘clunking’ sounds.
From the back of the room, a man emerged. Not just any male, but the most manly man My‑re had ever seen in her life. She glanced at Vomarian. She had always considered the Shagornan Elf striking, but this person was cleanly shaven, perfectly symmetrical, tanned, and gorgeous. She saw a hint of a solid build underneath his clothes, but not jacked like most gladiators on the Isle of the Eye. She always thought overblown muscles were gross. He had shoulder-length brown hair and she noticed how soft his blue eyes were when they met hers. She had an instant desire to gain his admiration.
“My lady, I know it’s crowded. Please be careful with the merchandise,” His silky tone calmingly spoke to her.
As she began to retrieve the kicked items and set them back up, My‑re stammered, “I’m so, so sorry. It was a complete accident. I’ll be careful.” She then added, “I absolutely love your shop. It’s so quaint. I’ve never seen anything like it. The Dragon’s Hoard. I get it. It's not a hoard of gold but lamps. Brilliant. You know, you’re beautiful outside. I mean the weather is. Um, how are things?”
“What is wrong with you?” Vomarian snapped.
Arenamaster Egan said, “Master Westwind. This is Vomarian Fae and his companion My‑re.”
“Hi, I’m My‑re.”
“Yes. I just said that,” Egan replied, shook his head, and continued. “They’re from the Isle of the Eye and-”
“Lord Protectors?” Westwind interrupted. “Then you’ve come a long way for nothing. I will have no dealings with Lady Greywand. I haven’t for years and don’t see that relationship renewing either.”
“No, we’re here about your mate,” Vomarian clarified.
“Araminth? This is about Araminth?” Pausing momentarily, Westwind said, “Please inform Lady Greywand that Araminth has passed on and is no longer within her or her parents’ influence.”
Egan stepped forward and asked, “Wait, are you saying you two aren’t here to retrieve a magic lamp that will grant three wishes?”
Shaking her head no, My‑re said, “My condolences on your loss.”
“It was a long time ago, and I’ve moved on,” Westwind replied.
“Really, with anyone special?” My‑re queried. Everyone in the room looked at her in awkward silence. “What?”
“Unless I can interest you in a piece of merchandise, I have other customers to attend to,” Westwind said, despite them being the only ones in the establishment.
“Where is she buried?” Vomarian inquired.
Westwind looked at the Shagornan Elf with suspicion. “She never mentioned being close to any Shagornan Elf, so you what? Need to pay respects?”
“What my callous friend is trying to say is we have a duty to confirm Araminth’s passing. This is the first question Lady Greywand will ask. So, with the utmost reverence, would you allow us to lay a flower at her final resting place?” My‑re asked. “Then afterward, maybe we could go to a tavern and get an ale.”
Vomarian bumped her and shot her a stern glance.
My‑re mouthed, “What?”
“Of course. I’ll take you there. Allow me to gather a few things,” Westwind said and proceeded to the back of the store.
Heading toward the entrance, Arenamaster Egan said, “It seems your business is close to being done. I’ll take my leave, and please offer my regards to Lady Greywand when you return to the Isle of the Eye.”
Nudging Vomarian, My‑re said, “See, easy. Finally, something’s going our way.”
“Will you stay focused?” Vomarian requested in a harsh tone.
Throwing up her arms in supplication, My‑re mumbled under her breath, “The nine hells he’s cute.” Waiting, she toured the cramped shop, examining various pieces of interest. A large trunk tucked in a corner of the room was the only spot not covered with merchandise. A piece of red fabric clothing partially hung out and kept the lid from completely closing. Lifting the lid to stuff it back, she noticed it contained women’s outfits. At first, she thought they were just Araminth’s former belongings, but the material wasn’t packed neatly like she expected. It had been rummaged through. Maybe Westwind had looked for something in a hurry.
From the back room, Westwind called out, “Araminth’s resting spot isn’t far outside the city. However, it’s in the middle of the river north in the forest. We always loved walking along its banks when the full moon shined at night. The waterway had been temporarily diverted to make room for the aqueduct and has since returned to nature. You can lay your flower in the water.”
Snorting, Vomarian scoffed, “Something about things going our way, eh?”
Turning away and mimicking the elf’s mocking words, My‑re reopened the chest, grabbed one of the garments, rolled it up tight, and tucked it under her shirt.
Remerging from the back, Westwind said, “Now, follow me to the last resting place of Araminth Goldeneye.”