Snowbell In Town

Kurt Snowbell was a traveler who blended in well with the crowd as he wore simple cotton-like clothing, sturdy boots, a black felt cloak, and carried on a leather backpack. The clinking of his pack abruptly stopped as Kurt took in the view of the newest destination, Stonevalley.

It was the capital of markets where merchants all over the world partake in selling their items on the streets.

Kurt rummaged through his pocket to take out his purple-knitted coin pouch but sighed at the poor sight of three bronze coins on his palm.

Putting the coins away, he looked around to see if there was anywhere to relax and noticed a towering oak tree on a hill.

The breeze was refreshing at the touch and the shade from the green rustling leaves blocked the menacing rays of the sun. The peace urged him to take out his kit: a wooly white ball of yarn and a pair of wooden needles to knit.

In just a few hours, he had a stack of delicately knitted tablecloths of both flowery and snowflake patterns. The sun was now setting and just as he was on his last few knots, a ball hit his hands, sending the cloth and needles flying.

"I-I'm so sorry!"

A little girl in a ruffled blue dress huffs apologetically, catching her breath after running behind the ball. Her curls were all over the place and sticking on the sides of her face like glue due to the sweat.

Kurt stood up and walked over to where the ball had landed and picked it up along with his craft.

"No worries." He kneeled and handed over the ball which she shyly took back. Her brown eyes never lifted from the ground, but had caught a view of the tablecloths.

"It's really pretty mister..."

"Thank you."

"I thought knitting was for old ladies though..."

Kurt couldn't help but laugh at the little girl's innocent comment as she blushed and tensed her shoulders.

"I might not be an old lady, but it gets me a little money."

Her eyes widened in admiration like twinkling stars at the thought of the lively markets of Stonevalley.

"Stonevalley has the best markets, I love them!"

"Lilly!"

The two look over at the distance to see a young lady running up the hill with her hands clutching up her long dress.

"Mama!"

"Lilly dear I was so worried!" The mother crouched and embraced her daughter as she sighed in relief, but within a minute later, breaks apart and clasped her little hands for a lecture.

"Young lady, I have told you not to play out here in the fields by yourself! Goodness Lilly and your dress!"

"I'm sorry Mama..."

Kurt began to step back and attend to packing up, but his movement shifted the lady's attention to him.

"I apologize if my little girl had troubled you, sir."

"Not at all ma'am, have a good day."

Lilly patted over her mama's arm exclaiming, "The mister can knit, look!"

His finished tablecloths were still laid out on the grass in full view.

"They are beautiful, are you a merchant?"

"Not exactly, I can't afford a room at the moment."

"I help my husband run an inn, please accept the invitation to stay with accommodations taken care of for the little inconvenience my daughter may have caused."

Kurt lightly chuckled but was beyond delighted to know that he'd have something comfier to lay on than the dirt ground.

"As I said, there was none at all ma'am, but I appreciate your kindness."

After packing his things, the three started walking down the grassy hill into town. 

Passing by a few stands and townhomes, the Lilly Inn sign was in sight with its light purple delicate cursive words on the wooden plank. On each side of the entrance were pots of all kinds of lily flowers and behind it were plump green bushes; it was like seeing a real-life doll house. Lily swung the door open causing the bell attached above to announce their arrival through a little chime.

A humble man turns his attention away from his paperwork and smiles at Lilly.

"Papa!" The little girl runs around the counter and clings to her father's legs.

"Lilly! How's my little girl?" He carries her as Lilly giggles and her mother comes over the counter to explain the situation.

Kurt walks near the opposite wall to the counter and looks at the pictures hanging over the walls. There was also a lot of memorabilia behind glass cabinets and a framed newspaper with the headline "Lilly Inn Is The Best".

The man's laugh echoed at his wife's story and patted the counter to get Kurt's attention.

"The name's Thomas Vace, I'm this little troublemaker's papa."

He turned around and walked over the counter to shake his hand firmly.

"Thank you for having me over, I'm Kurt Snowbell."

"I'll go ahead and prepare dinner, Lilly can you be a good little girl and show Mister Kurt his room?"

Lilly held her hand up like a soldier determined to lead her comrade. "Yes, Mama!" Her gesture amused the three and she walked off once her papa put her down to lead Kurt through the narrow hallways.

The room had a bed with fluffy quilted covers, a small nightstand, and a lit candle on top. On the other side of the room was the window with draped white curtains and an L-shaped wooden desk that had a decorative vase of lilies. Kurt placed his knitted tablecloths on the desk and gently grazed his hand over the wood, his eyes softening at the thought of a distant memory. 

The scurrying steps of Lilly lifted him from the trance as he followed right behind to the kitchen.

"Please have a seat, Kurt." Thomas kindly gestured his hand over the empty wooden chair across from him. 

Lilly carried over a tray with rose-printed tea cups and a cubed silver container of sugar. Once she placed it down, the gentlemen grabbed their cups. For a kitchen, it was very tidy and adorned with hung cooking pots. Their cobblestone fireplace was lit with a crackling flame heating the pot of vegetable soup.

"I apologize for not introducing myself, I'm Cleda Vace." Thomas' wife speaks up as she places down a bowl with a spoon in front of Kurt and Lilly places another in front of her papa. 

Kurt nodded in acknowledgment and said a quick, "Thank you."

The remaining two seats at the table were soon occupied by Lilly and Cleda with their bowls of soup. 

"My wife was telling me you're a good knitter, I've never met a man who specializes in that craft before."

"Thomas..." Cleda snapped a disappointing look at her husband, but Kurt let out a light laugh remembering Lilly's reaction from earlier. 

"I'm from Icepeak and my grandmother raised me since my parents had died in an accident. She spoke with the group leaders to let me stay by her side considering her old age and needed caring. I learned the craft from her among other things. It's true though, I get called out by it all the time so I tend to knit in quiet areas where I'm alone." 

Thomas was intrigued by his origins and asked him what made him decide to leave his lands. Kurt explained that by the time he was 20, his grandmother had also passed away, and felt that he didn't belong with the rest of the villagers because of how closely he lived by her side all these years. There was nothing else bounding him and decided to travel the world mindlessly. 

After a couple of hours, Cleda and Lilly cleared up the table and began washing the dishes as the men kept on conversing. 

"Is Icepeak near the Everglade Forest?" 

"Yes, it is."

"Aside from the Inn, my family were originally carpenters. When I was younger, my father was commissioned to make a desk and journeyed out, but the only detail I could remember was that the town was super cold and near the magnificent Everglade Forest." 

Kurt's eyes slightly widened, but quickly composed himself at the realization. 

No wonder that desk felt so familiar...

Cleda dried her hands on a towel and walked over to her husband for a goodnight kiss as Lilly hugged him.

"G'night mister Kurt!" 

Cleda bows, excusing herself with her cheeky daughter to rest for the night. The gentlemen bid each other goodnight with another handshake and head to their respective rooms. 

Soon the sun rose to claim another day and the Vace family began their daily home routine. Thomas knocked on Kurt's door hoping to greet him a good morning, but received no response. He opens the door to find it neatly prepped with a knitted tablecloth over the desk. His finger intertwin around the knitted loops as he admired it in thought. 

I wonder why he left.