a fabric woven from rays of sunshine
The merchant couldn’t have said where the fabric and flower crown came from - only that it was beautiful, that to look at it and have that warm gold reflected back at you felt like basking in a summer day with coins in your pocket and a song in your heart.
Maybe he’d picked it up in the old country, where he knew that such lilies grew thick along the sides of the roads (though of course they were plain in comparison, their rich orange not lit from within). Maybe he had won it in a late-night game of cards; there were times, after a festival when he’d successfully sold most of his wares, where he allowed his celebrating to get a little out of hand. It was possible he’d woken up one morning with a terrible hangover - and a drape and crown imbued with the light of the setting sun.
Anyway, none of that mattered. What did was finding the perfect customer for the piece - not only whoever happened along wanting it (and many did, for its glow was as captivating as an open chest of pirate treasure), but who it would suit. The merchant prided himself on finding the right partners for his wares, and this one was more special than most.
“See the way it sparkles,” he told those that wandered by his stall that early autumn day, “the way it seems to trail fireflies in its wake.” He hefted the crown, and like campfire embers gold dust drifted around it, vanishing to dust on the dark wood of his table. Gingerly he set it down, careful not to disturb a single enchanted petal. “Feel this,” he murmured to an interested mare, lifting the drape to her cheek. “Have you ever encountered such a soft, silky fabric? It will never lose its glow.” And he smiled at her, the gold reflecting in his eyes, even though he knew it would never be hers - it was lovely (would be lovely on anyone), but it did not suit her color, the tones of her skin.
He was taking it back from her, ever so gently, when he spied the man who he knew would wear it.
The stallion was clothed in the colors of a rich autumn wood, and even across the path the merchant could see the color of his eyes - the same color as the enchanted items. His own gaze grew keen at once, beseeching. “You, sir!” he cried, ignoring all the faces that turned his way in favor of the dusky man’s. “Surely this was made for you - you cannot convince me otherwise!” To his great pleasure, the stallion turned - began to approach -
Normally the merchant enjoyed the banter, even the haggling of selling his wares. But even he was not interested in prices today, and as soon as the man was near (still ignoring the others who gathered, curious) he held the crown and silken fabric toward him in near supplication. “It suits you,” he whispered earnestly, “and it is no normal piece - this is enchanted, sir. Make this yours, and you will never be left in the dark.”
Maybe he’d picked it up in the old country, where he knew that such lilies grew thick along the sides of the roads (though of course they were plain in comparison, their rich orange not lit from within). Maybe he had won it in a late-night game of cards; there were times, after a festival when he’d successfully sold most of his wares, where he allowed his celebrating to get a little out of hand. It was possible he’d woken up one morning with a terrible hangover - and a drape and crown imbued with the light of the setting sun.
Anyway, none of that mattered. What did was finding the perfect customer for the piece - not only whoever happened along wanting it (and many did, for its glow was as captivating as an open chest of pirate treasure), but who it would suit. The merchant prided himself on finding the right partners for his wares, and this one was more special than most.
“See the way it sparkles,” he told those that wandered by his stall that early autumn day, “the way it seems to trail fireflies in its wake.” He hefted the crown, and like campfire embers gold dust drifted around it, vanishing to dust on the dark wood of his table. Gingerly he set it down, careful not to disturb a single enchanted petal. “Feel this,” he murmured to an interested mare, lifting the drape to her cheek. “Have you ever encountered such a soft, silky fabric? It will never lose its glow.” And he smiled at her, the gold reflecting in his eyes, even though he knew it would never be hers - it was lovely (would be lovely on anyone), but it did not suit her color, the tones of her skin.
He was taking it back from her, ever so gently, when he spied the man who he knew would wear it.
The stallion was clothed in the colors of a rich autumn wood, and even across the path the merchant could see the color of his eyes - the same color as the enchanted items. His own gaze grew keen at once, beseeching. “You, sir!” he cried, ignoring all the faces that turned his way in favor of the dusky man’s. “Surely this was made for you - you cannot convince me otherwise!” To his great pleasure, the stallion turned - began to approach -
Normally the merchant enjoyed the banter, even the haggling of selling his wares. But even he was not interested in prices today, and as soon as the man was near (still ignoring the others who gathered, curious) he held the crown and silken fabric toward him in near supplication. “It suits you,” he whispered earnestly, “and it is no normal piece - this is enchanted, sir. Make this yours, and you will never be left in the dark.”
@Kai in another time and another place, will find himself wandering a market full of strange and wonderful treasures. The air is thick with the sounds of merchants yelling over each others. All the pathways between the stalls are full of horses too numerous to count. But as he walks, one merchant calls out to him. But perhaps his eyes were already turning to that shining bit of fabric before the merchant ever bid him to come closer. After all who can deny such a lovely treasure?
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This quest was written by the lovely griffin <3
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