Heroes & Handcrafts (Cozy Questing #2)

Chapter 1

Chapter

One

Braiden Beadle peered through his fingers as he shielded his eyes from the morning sun.

A beautiful sky shone blue over Weathervale, perfect wisps of cloud drifting along in a warm wind, the scent of ocean salt in the air.

The Beadle’s Needles sign swung gently in the breeze, its face newly painted, its hinges freshly oiled.

Braiden grinned. Granny Bethilda would be so proud.

It had all come down to this, a grand relaunching of his family’s craft shop.

With steady access to a supply of magical moongrass from the burrowfolk, Braiden’s spirit had been invigorated with bright confidence.

Finally, a chance to attract a new kind of clientele with an entire new line of enchanted knitwear.

He’d always been grateful for the handful of sales he made off of actual hobbyists and crafters throughout each week, but the shop couldn’t survive on the generosity of yarn-loving grandmothers alone.

Spinning the moongrass filament into functional thread had been the easy part. The difficult part was actually deciding what kinds of magicked clothing to actually make. The possibilities were endless, the potential of the thread as limitless as Weathervale’s open sky.

Inside, fussing with the displays and the products, the musclebound orc known as Craghammer fulfilled his duties as the assistant shopkeep and as Braiden’s first and only apprentice. He’d been an eager student and a skilled learner, dextrous despite the size and strength of his hands.

Braiden wasn’t sure he had much to teach the fierce orcish warrior, but Craghammer had proven himself a loyal employee and a fast friend, quick to sweep out the shop floor with a broom, eager to scare off rougher customers with his war hammer.

Outside, on the cobblestones just beyond the shop’s polished windows, Braiden stood with his two closest friends, the very first members of his adventuring party.

Elyssandra Ileli Emeridan tucked an entire sheaf of flyers under one arm, holding a single copy up to Braiden’s face for approval.

Augustin Arcosa pretended to study the flyer’s text with an editor’s eye.

Braiden knew that the wizard was only examining his illustrated likeness, making sure that the little drawing was just as handsome as the genuine article.

It was, of course, not that Braiden would ever admit it out loud.

And the flyer was quite loud, too, Augustin Arcosa’s Effervescent Elixirs printed in big, bold letters along the top, followed by a brief description of the bubbly brew that included all its creative flavors.

In progressively smaller print, the flyer also mentioned the relaunching of Beadle’s Needles and its new offerings, ending with the shop’s address at the very bottom.

“Everything looks to be in order,” Braiden said, scanning the flyer’s details, but especially the address. “Then again, we did go through this before we had a hundred copies printed, so unless anything changed, I think we’re good to go.”

“I think it’s perfect,” Augustin announced. He clapped Elyssandra by the shoulder, grinning broadly. “All thanks to Elyssandra here.”

She tucked a lock of her golden hair behind one ear, blushing. “I only wish that Warren and Bones could be around for this, but they need their rest.”

“Where’s Warren, anyway?” Braiden asked.

“Sleeping in. He had a long trip up from the Underborough. Ran into quite a few elementals.”

“And Bones?” Augustin asked.

“Sleeping in.”

Braiden frowned. “But he doesn’t sleep.”

“I tried to explain that to him, but he was too busy pretending to be asleep to listen.”

Braiden groaned. Typical Bones. At least he could always count on Elyssandra.

He’d explained that he couldn’t afford to put both her and Craghammer on the payroll, even with the shop’s increase in business.

Elyssandra insisted all the same, possibly as part of her long-term plan to learn more about life outside the elf lands.

She was the shop’s sugar, making sales with her sweetness, while Craghammer was the salt, a living, breathing security system and theft deterrent.

She’d proven very helpful, nonetheless, to the point that Braiden couldn’t keep from kicking some coin her way.

She made a little from helping out with Augustin’s pet project as well, but her surest source of extra income was occasionally taking jobs from the questing board outside the Dragon’s Flagon.

They were only small escorting missions to nearby towns and settlements, mainly for caravans transporting goods and commodities of modest cost. That meant a meager payout for Elyssandra and very little danger for her out on the road — far more dangerous for any would-be thieves who never realized they were up against a royally trained elven spear-fighter and her enchanted arsenal.

Warren, when he was in town, would assist with the missions, too, going incognito in his spiked helmet and obscuring the remarkable angles of his legs with very loose and airy pantaloons. Courtesy of Beadle’s Needles, of course.

Bones, presumably, was too busy pretending to sleep to go with them. Besides, the skeleton didn’t have to eat or pay rent. What need did he have for money? Braiden thought he might be the luckiest of them all.

Braiden wondered what these merchants would think to learn that one of their bodyguards was the crown princess of the Summerlands.

He also wondered what the elven King Emeritas would think of his beloved daughter building a career out of beating down would-be criminals on the roads outside Weathervale.

It didn’t entirely surprise Braiden to learn that she’d also made some extra coin hiring out her services as an illustrator.

She was very good at drawing, especially at inking and line art.

She’d drawn on these same skills for the advertising flyers, decorating the beautifully printed text with small, bubbly bottles as well as an impressively realistic engraving of the Wizard of Weathervale himself.

“Don’t you think you made him a little too muscular?” Braiden asked, craning his neck for a better look. “And his head is a lot bigger than that. It would have to be, it’s so full of hot air.”

Augustin sniffed. “Very rude as always, Braiden, but even your vulgarities won’t diminish the specialness of this day. It’s time to announce that Augustin’s Effervescent Elixirs is now in business!”

In a manner of speaking, of course. Braiden had kindly allocated a corner of the shop to Augustin’s beverages.

And why not? Crafters and fans of knitwear might get thirsty as they browsed the shop’s selections.

Besides, having a local celebrity to attract extra business didn’t seem like a very bad idea at all.

“Now, if we’re quite ready?” Augustin asked. He threw out his arms and adjusted his cloak, as if his outfit might have anything to do with the efficacy of his spellcasting.

Braiden gave him a firm nod. Even more than revivifying the shop, somehow, Braiden had dreamed of this day.

He’d always fantasized about how fun it might be to draw attention to Beadle’s Needles by using the magic of weaving out in the streets, casting colorful sprays of magicked yarn like confetti and streamers.

He’d come such a long way from fanciful fantasies, adapting the weaving way to a myriad surprisingly effective uses within the depths of the Weathervale dungeon. But they were up on the surface again, up in a town where his magic was best put to practical use.

He raised his hand, focusing tiny beads of magic on the tips of his fingers. Really, absolutely meaning it this time, he nodded again.

Augustin bunched his fist, whispering words between his fingers. Scattered leaves and bits of dirt on the cobblestones swirled at their feet as the wind began to build. Biting her lip to restrain a huge smile, Elyssandra hurled her sheaf of flyers into the air with all her might.

In a single exhalation of breath, Braiden unfurled the magic still coiled within his body, long threads of hope and joy and excitement unspooling from the deepest, dustiest parts of his soul.

With the shop’s storage room uncluttered, with the help of the wizard and all their friends, Braiden’s worlds without and within finally matched.

He hadn’t felt so light in so long. He couldn’t remember feeling so free.

Augustin opened his fingers, and a great wind howled upward, a geyser of air. Its invisible hands caressed the flyers, teasing along bits of colorful string, glowing ribbons that grew ever longer as they streamed from the ends of Braiden’s fingers.

He laughed as he relinquished the magic, unleashing the rainbow torrent of ribbons and thread, the wind carrying his laughter into the Weathervale sky.

Off the flyers and confetti went, cast out across the eight districts through the power of Augustin’s spell.

The wizard dusted his hands off dramatically, a triumphant smirk playing on his lips.

Braiden thought it was smug, but also very tempting to kiss away with his own lips, except maybe not in front of Elyssandra.

Not just yet. He’d seen how much she could hyperventilate at the mere thought of the two of them being engaged in anything remotely romantic.

Still, Braiden had to admit that he quite liked the kissing.

It had only happened a few more times since that one night in the storage room, back before Augustin had claimed it as his bedroom and moved in the mismatched furniture he’d cobbled together from local pawnshops.

Braiden thought that he couldn’t be very bad at it if the wizard liked doing it with him so much.

He did wish they could do it a little more often.

Braiden always believed in getting better with practice.