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“Can I join you?”
“Of course, it’s always nice to have company.”
Despite the invitation, Laudna waited a few seconds, watching the stranger intently. It’s not that unusual for a person to mutter such words without a thought, without a glance at who’s asking, especially in such a small village where the strangest thing to happen is a cow having two calves. But Laudna learned long ago that it was better to give it a moment, in case the person changed their mind upon giving her a closer look.
The firbolg, however, only sent her a nod, the corners of his lips turning slightly up. He didn’t look taken aback, expression completely unchanged as their eyes met, although it was hard to read any emotions from his face, the physique of it unfamiliar. Laudna eyed curiously the pink hair with white roots, gray fur that covered most of his body was matted and damp from the rain, but a few spots that started to dry suggested that it would be all fluffed up within an hour or so. And he was, once again, drinking from his cup, as if Laudna hadn’t spent the last few moments boring her eyes into him.
There weren’t many firbolgs walking around in Tal’dorei. Maybe that’s just how they are - a little weird and indifferent to things.
Laudna slipped onto the bench, sighing quietly with relief as she straightened her legs, feet hurting from hours on the road. She wrung her hair, trying to get the excess of water out of it. Late spring brought rains, heavy and lasting for days, that made the roads change into muddy slopes and filled air with heavy humidity. Normally, Laudna would try to find a place to stay for this time of the year, waiting a few weeks before going back on the road, but this time a pair of scared children, who had ran to the village after seeing her nearby the abandoned hunting huts deprived her of that luxury. And so she started to walk again, until her clothes were soaked through and every bit of her body begged her to find someplace warm to get a rest.
Maybe she should travel further south next, out of the rains and cold, mid-spring winds. The nearest port town was merely a week of travel away and if there was even a hint of truth in the rumours she had heard, Marquet sounded very promising. Warm. Beautiful. Full of wonders.
“You look cold, miss. Would you like some tea?”
Only then did Laudna notice a faint smell of herbs coming from a small, beaten up kettle that stood on the table. It was barely noticeable with the overwhelming, acidic smell of beer gone bad hovering all over the tavern.
“I didn't think you could get tea in a place like this,” she said, putting her elbows on the table and leaning to take a sniff. It was unfamiliar but appealing, a little sweet and minty.
“That’s probably true, but I’ve helped the owner with an injury, so she let me use her kettle. Mine, unfortunately, got lost a few days ago,” the firbolg explained, taking the second cup from his bag and setting it in front of Laudna. “I’m glad she had one since, to be frank, I’m not much of an alcohol person.”
Laudna wrapped her hands around the cup, marvelling at the warmth of it, letting the steam warm her face before taking a careful sip. The tea was surprisingly delicate, none of the bitter tinge Laudna was used to and yet it reminded her of what her mom used to make for her on cold days from the flowers they have found together in the forest.
“It's so good,” she half-moaned, feeling the heat spreading through her chest.
“I'm happy to hear that, it's one of my favourite blends as well,” he extended a hand towards Laudna. “My name's Caduceus Clay. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“I'm Laudna,” although the firbolg was almost as thin as she, Laudna’s hand completely disappeared into his large hand. She pointed with her chin to the staff placed against the wall. “You're a cleric then? Which god?”
“Yes, I follow the words of Wildmother,” the lack of recognition must have been easy to spot on Laudna’s face since he quickly added, “Right, I believe the name used in these parts is Melora.”
The name rang a bell, but Laudna didn’t remember much more than the fact she heard it mentioned by some of the wandering merchants that had visited in the time Before. But then again, she was never a religious person, too preoccupied with her own corner of the world. She knew of Pelor, of course, festivals honouring him have always been a big event in Whitestone and they usually meant games and sweets, but that’s where her knowledge ended.
Still, it felt nice to talk with someone, to be treated normally, so Laudna placed her elbows on the table, prepping her chin on the bony hands and looked at Caduceus, wide-eyed and curious.
“You're from Wildmount then? How exciting!” she exclaimed, flashing him a smile. “And you came here to Melorize people or whatever the word is?”
“Oh no, that's not my goal,” his low chuckle reminded Laudna of stones moving against each other, but somehow kinder. “I suppose you could say I'm more like a leaf travelling on Her wind.”
“A wanderer then? A free soul?”
“As much as one can be after spending most of their life in one place,” Caduceus’ eyes softened. This look Laudna could easily understand, this was a person thinking of their home. “Then I met some wonderful people and left. And then came back, and left again. Our party split, but I wanted to see more. Learn more. So here I am.”
“Travelling alone and with no destination?” Laudna twirled the tea in her cup before taking another sip. She could sympathise with that.
“I wouldn’t say that. My friends often visit or call, and I can always swing by their places if I feel like it. And as for the destination... I know where my last stop will be, it's just everything in between that's yet undecided.”
The tavern was busy with people walking in and out, tankards of ale scuffing against the wood and slow conversation.
“What are we drinking?” Laudna asked after a while, not because the silence between them was awkward but because the conversation felt so good. Besides, maybe she could find these herbs somewhere on the road, make her own supply of tea. Having a cup every now and then wasn't a bad idea.
“A friend of mine likes to call it dead people tea.”
“Oh? Now that’s the story I really want to hear!”
“It’s made of the plants that grow on the graveyard at the Blooming Grove. It’s a temple of Melora where I was raised, far away in Wildmount. We pick flowers that grow on the graves and make different blends from them, and every family's grave provides us with different ingredients,” he paused for a moment. “It’s also the final destination.”
Laudna’s wide smile quivered, turning smaller and almost shy.
“Going back home then?”
“Yes. But also in a sense that it’s a place to reunite with everyone when the time comes for me.”
“Not so reassuring to hear a cleric talk so eagerly about death,” she tried to joke, but Caduceus’ eyes remained serious.
“I'm afraid I have to disagree about this, miss Laudna. The thought of a place to rest in, where I will belong and have an opportunity to bring joy to others even long after I'm gone is quite comforting for me."
It did sound nice when he talked about it like that. Roots of plants sharing the same sun and water instead of ropes tangled by the wind. A layer of earth reassuring her body would finally be spared of constant flight. No strange voices or half-known demands, only a gardener who would walk a few feet over her, picking up flowers and tending to the place she could finally call hers.
“The Blooming Grove would be happy to accept you too.”
Laudna drank the last of her tea before leaning uncomfortably close to Caduceus, her face inches away from him.
“I knew you were Melorazing.”
The firbold laughed.
“I'm pretty sure that's not a word. I would have to confirm with my friend, though.”
More time passed and Laudna still held her painfully empty teacup in her hands, clenching it like a lifeline, as if by holding tight she could make the flow of time stop. She didn’t want to go yet. She didn’t want to leave.
But she had to, her body and mind both urging her to keep moving. There were so many things to see. So many things to do. The life she had, no matter how hard it was at times, still felt like a gift. She could visit so many places now. She could learn so many things.
But maybe… Maybe one day.
“Did you mean it?”
“I'd be honoured to tend to your grave if you at some point choose to rest in the Grove. I'm quite curious what flowers would grow there.”
“I always liked the tiny, purple ones," she whispered, sliding the cup across the table.
“Here, let me pour you another cup.”