Sweetening What Was Sour

Opening the front door, I realized that scents which had wafted outside couldn't compare to the wonderfully sweet smells from within the humble patisserie. Hungrily, I led the way forward, greeted by the faint chime of a bell as I took in the wooden panelling making up the interior and the rows of cabinets displaying the remnants of the day's goods. Towards the rear of the space, behind the long counter that separated the customers from the back of the shop, I spotted a short faerie woman sweeping. As she looked down, watching where she worked, her mild green ponytail swung to the side with each brush of her broom. And while I had never met this woman before, I knew exactly who she was, because she was Rosemary Seed, wife of Basil.

Unlike her husband, she was not directly involved with Shatter, but she did run the business that transported information and goods across territorial lines. Maintaining a level of plausible deniability, she rarely left the bakery, instead spending her time and energy crafting the treats that were used to conceal the truth behind the family operation. In terms of the revolution, her hands were clean of blood, but she was just as much fighting against the local governments and militaries as the rest of them.

“Hello,” I announced as I slowly approached. "Umm, are you still open?"

“Huh?” The woman responded, pivoting her head towards me, having either not heard or chosen to ignore the faint chime of our arrival. “Oh, hello. How are you today?”

I watched as she directed her attention fully on us, releasing the broom and walking over to greet our arrival. As though nothing had happened, the tool continued to sweep without her, moving on with its job at a constant pace. The sight made me smirk, enjoying the whimsical feel that reminded me of a fantastical childhood story about a boy with a scar—though this story contained significantly less TERFs.

“Is there something I can help you with?” She continued, wiping her hands against the apron that hung around her waist and sending out a cascade of sparkles with every pat.

“Um, yes, I’m here for my free yummy with a side of delish.”

Reaching into my pocket, I withdrew the small card Basil had given me when we met and provided the coded phrase. She scrutinized the object before thoroughly eying my companion and me. Eventually, she handed it back with a large smile.

“Hmm—unfortunately, as you can see, it’s late in the day, and all our yummy treats are picked over," Rosemary explained, waving her hand to the space. "But you’re in luck. Tomorrow, my daughter is travelling to Fearnemyst to acquire our most sought-after yummies. However, you two seem to be hardy adventurers. If you wouldn’t mind accompanying her, we will repay you with double the treats.”

“There will actually be four of us, but we would happily accompany your daughter,” I replied with a smile and nod. “Thank you. We will return shortly after dawn. Until then, though, may I purchase your remaining sweets? They look delicious.”

"Oh, uh, of course, dear!" She replied with a shocked expression crossing her face, seemingly surprised that I actually intended to do business with the front. "You want all the remaining sweets?"

"Yes, ma'am. If that's alright, I've heard so much about your shop and, you know, support local."

"Well, aren't you a dear. Since it's the end of the day and they were going to go to waste anyway, let's say five gold for the lot."

Without question, I dropped the coins on the counter and looked back at Sharzin with a wiggle of my eyebrows. Rosemary withdrew small paper bags, and I watched as she loaded sweets into individual packaging. Vanilla scones, sugar cookies, toffee fudge, slices of apricot cobbler and cherry pies, and even two bags of candies. Taking the nearly two dozen bags from the shopkeeper, I stuffed them into my bottomless container and, with a wave, reminded her that I would be back for sunrise.

"What was all that about?" Sharzin eventually asked as we departed. "Support local?"

"It sounded good," I responded, withdrawing a scone from the bottomless bag and handing it over to her. "And I'm hoping these help sweeten everyone's soured mood."

Watching as Sharzin took a bite of the treat, her eyes grew wide. Immediately, she looked back at me with an eager glance, her eyes shifting to the bag and back to me.

"More!" She demanded, extending a hand.

"Sorry, Zin. You're going to have to wait to share with everyone else."

"Bully!"

"Don't you fuggin' dare!"

Arriving back at the inn and rejoining the remainder of our party, it quickly became apparent to me that even though they had passed through Fallowfield numerous times, the group had never stopped at the Seed family patisserie. Lying out the spread of sweets across the dining table we shared, I glanced over at Aesandoral, who, while still avoiding eye contact with me, stared longingly at the apricot cobbler. Reaching her hand in front of a suspicious Rionriv, Sharzin grabbed hold of another scone and bit into it.

"Mmmm, so good!" She moaned softly into the treat. "Ri, you have to try it."

"What is this supposed to be?" Rionriv instead asked, glaring my way. "A bribe?"

"A little," My response came without hesitation. "It's an 'I'm sorry for you becoming a weretiger' offering. And, sorry for being a bully."

With the last statement, I turned towards Aesandoral, who glanced up from the cobbler to me. Giving her an apologetic smile and sliding the cobbler closer to her, I gave my best puppy dog blinks. With big eyes, she glanced from the treat to me and back again before reaching forward and taking the delicacy into her clutches.

"You weren't being a bully." She whispered, grabbing for a fork and hovering above the cobbler slice. "It's just—it had nothing to do with the pills."

"What? Wait, then why were you upset with me?"

Aesandoral's face grew red as she glanced to the side at Rionriv. Looking over to her sister, I watched as she took a hesitant bite of the toffee fudge. In an instant, the sorceress's face brightened before tossing the rest of the snack between her lips and chewing excitedly.

"It-it's nothing, forget it." The elf continued, stabbing at the treat and shoving a piece into her mouth. "Oh, my Gods! Delicious!"

"Yeah? Good, I'm glad you're all happy with the treats."

"They're okay, I guess." Rionriv huffed in reply, taking hold of a scone and biting into it. "But this doesn't make up for yesterday!"

Quietly, she squealed with delight at the flavour, hastily tossing the rest into her mouth. Sharzin, who had begun to try every sweet available, sat herself beside me to devour the slice of cherry pie I had been saving for myself. 

"Hey, that was mine!" I barked at her.

"Finders keepers." She replied, quickly shoving the first big bite into her mouth before continuing. "So these are the kind of things you know? Like, where the good food is hidden?"

"That...and other things."

"Tell me."

"Absolutely not! I need to make sure you all keep working with me. A boy needs his secrets." 

This statement was returned by a disappointed huff from Sharzin and a suspicious glare from Rionriv. Both looked to me, inspecting my face as I casually reached for the sugar cookie across the table. Taking hold of the sweet, I pulled it to my mouth, but before taking a bite, I turned towards the group.

"I promise I will show you the most amazing sights of this world. Just keep putting your faith in me a little longer, okay? Once we rank up a bit more, we'll travel to some pretty cool places and see some crazy things. You'll have more money than what you've earned here and taste food that'll make you forget all about Fallowfield."

With that, I went to bite the cookie, only to find that it had been stolen out of my hand by Sharzin. The groundling eagerly bit into the treat and smiled widely at the sweet flavour.

"Hey! That was mine!"

"You snooze, you lose." She replied, much to the joy of the rest of the group.

Having seemingly smoothed over the hurt feelings and complex emotions of the previous few days with a healthy helping of sweets, we went on with our night. The next morning arrived quickly after an evening of drinking wine and dining on a hearty stew, which came as a welcome break from the multiple burrito bowls we'd had in a row. Unfortunately, the hangover I received from the cheap alcohol nearly made me lose the remains of the meal as I began to stir in the early morning hours. But, luckily for me and the triop, I had the perfect magical cure for it. So, after expending some of my energy for an early morning detoxification, the four of us were back in fighting shape by the time we had returned to the patisserie, particularly the cart out back.

The carriage we had been assigned to protect was actually a stagecoach modelled after a World Eighty-Two banking company of the American frontier. Stagecoaches were the primary and safest form of nonmagical travel from city to city for most, though they were often too pricey for the poorest—mundane—people. This particular coach was a nondescript tan colour. At a distance, I noticed how it loosely blended in with the colouration of the diverse hillside grasses. I hadn't expected them to have added camouflage, seeing as I never mentioned it, though I did appreciate the in-world attention to detail. After all, when on the road, any advantage against bandits and monsters was one to take. Especially when delivering goods, which we appeared to be doing today.

By the time we had arrived, the top and back of the stagecoach were already packed to capacity and held down with thick leather straps. Even though the haphazard pack-job didn’t appear secure to me, I understood that this family knew what they were doing and kept my opinions to myself. Looking at the mess, I wondered where we were expected to hold on, or if the plan had been for us to walk beside. I quickly realized that I had no idea what we were doing, something that I usually relied on Rionriv to help with.

Approaching the side of the stagecoach, a young faerie woman stepped up to greet us. Her blueberry hair was done up in a messy bun and bounced energetically as she neared. Butterfly wings affixed to her back glittered in the rising sunlight, leaving behind the faintest sprikling of glimmering dust in her wake.

“You must be them.” She spoke dully, her personality the opposite of her vibrance. “I’m Blueberry Crumble. Please enter the stagecoach. If I need assistance, I will alert you.”

“O-oh, are you sure?” I asked, looking between my party and her. “We were okay being a bit more helpful to you.”

“That’s okay, this route is usually only bad during weretiger mating season.” Her eyes darted between us, locking on Rionriv’s ears and tail a moment longer than the rest of the party. “But seeing as the last full moon of the year was a few nights ago, we should be fine.”

After a brief, awkward moment of silence, Blueberry turned back towards the stagecoach without another word and hopped into her driver’s box. Glancing forward, I locked my eyes with the creatures that had been harnessed to the front of the vehicle. It took me a moment to realize that the large creatures pulling the carriage weren’t horses, but instead four hares the size of Clydesdales with twisted antelope horns atop their heads. With a glance at the triop, I saw them staring in awe as the oversized back legs of the creatures kicked at their comically large ears.

"Iz..." Aesandoral whispered.

"No. No more pets." I replied instantly, stepping closer to the driver's seat and beautiful creatures.

Moal’aw doesn’t have megafauna like this. I thought to myself, examining the notable change in my story. The only place you’d find these creatures is on the other side of the Great Divider Mountain Range. I wonder—

“Savana Jackalopes from Ir’fornu?” I asked Blueberry casually from beside the carriage.

“You’ve got a discerning eye,” She replied sharply as she turned around and looked at me with a sinister smirk. “You know your beasts. They were legally imported. We have all the paperwork, if you'd like to see.”

"No. No. I'm good. Just—very nice. We-we'll hop—erm—board now."

I feel like she doesn’t trust us. I thought, trying not to pay more attention than necessary to her as she adjusted herself into the seat and the jackalopes prepared themselves for departure.

With a hasty nod to my allies, we quickly entered the stagecoach and situated ourselves in the uncomfortably cramped cabin made for faeries. The moment we got settled and stopped rustling, there were two bangs on the wall behind me, and, with a faint whipping sound, the cart lurched.

I tumbled forward at the sudden acceleration, catching myself on the opposite wall.

"Eeep—" Aesandoral gasped softly from the seat in front of me.

Opening my eyes, I realized that my hand was planted beside her head. Our bodies were close, with my lips mere inches from hers as I inadvertently kabedoned the elf against her seat. I could see the anxiety flare to life in her emerald eyes as chestnut cheeks grew red. Watching as her lip quivered softly, there was the faintest movement of them puckering into a kiss. And just like that, my heart began to race. I wanted to kiss her. I had wanted to kiss her for a while. And now, a perfect opportunity presented itself. That was, until I felt the dam threatening to burst.

"Oh, I-yuh—I'm sorry." I instead stammered awkwardly, pushing myself back into my seat as I gripped at my racing heart. "I-yuh-I didn't mean to. This cart has some real get-up-and-go."

"It-it's okay." She whispered weakly, tucking her face halfway into her blouse so that I could only see her eyes. "I-I-I didn't mind."

"C-cool."

With a flustered huff, I turned my head and looked out the window. Beside us, the world raced by faster than it would have had we been travelling by horse. And while it was still no automobile, it sure beat walking. I had never assumed that one of the hardest things about being in a fantasy world was having no car to enjoy a road trip in. But that was one of the reasons I was befriending Shatter. One day, they would have what I wanted.

Glancing over at Rionriv as she, along with the rest of the girls, stared out their windows at the blur of a world, I couldn’t help but wonder if we had had this stagecoach for the first leg of our journey, if she would have still had to fight the weretigers? But with a shake of my head, I tried to shun the thought, distracting myself with a one-man game of eyespy.

Eventually, all the things I had been worried about faded away, and, for a while, things were good.