The doors creaked open. Aster stepped into the cavernous darkness, not unlike the dungeon. Looking around, Aster nodded to himself. Another similarity.

Dust hung in the air, glittering golden at noon. Very few people sat in the tavern. Aster quickly scanned the patrons, but neither Fontea nor Jaro sat within the dusty twilight. One man, sitting at the bar, didn’t even look up as Aster walked in.

Is he the same guy who was sitting there last time…? Aster wondered.

He pasted up one of the advertisements on the tavern’s board, alongside the other notifications. Aster nodded to himself and headed back into the sunlight. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Well. That went far better than expected. I didn’t even run into—

“Hey, you!”

Aster sighed. Spoke too soon. He turned with a smile. “Fontea and Jaro! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Fontea scowled at him. “Where are they? It’s been a week! Have you not found anything yet? At least their bones, if nothing else.”

Aster shook his head. He offered the two of them invitations. “I’ve found Milo, but I think you’d best hear the tale from the man himself. And why not have some tea while you’re at it?”

Fontea looked at the invitation. Her brows furrowed deeper. “What kind of… Inviting us to tea, but refusing to tell us about our own party?”

“Are they dead?” Jaro asked.

Aster licked his lips. “Well… like I said. Probably best that you talk to Milo yourself.”

“At a tea party?” Fontea emphasized, pointing to the invite.

Aster looked at it. An elaborate flower-and-vine design twisted down the side of it, while fancy calligraphy far beyond his own penmanship spelled out the location and time. “Milo designed that. Do you like it?”

Milo had drawn it on the cave floor with his charcoal, and Daiyo had shaped stone to make a stamp based on his design. The colors came from stones Stella drew from deep in the dungeon, crushed up into simple ink, or maybe paint, Aster wasn’t sure. As for the paper, the slightly greenish tone hinted at its origins, pounded into shape from a mat of reeds Viki provided.

“Milo… what?” Fontea asked. She narrowed her eyes. “Why didn’t you mention any of this last time? What’s happening in that dungeon?”

“The situation has changed,” Aster sighed. He shook his head. “Come to the teahouse and talk to Milo. He can explain everything.”

He turned to walk off, but Fontea moved to block his way. “Why don’t you explain everything, right here?”

Because I don’t want to die by your sword, or clean your blood off my hammer, Aster thought. He smiled instead. “I think you should really hear it from Milo.”

Fontea stepped forward, reaching for her sword, but Jaro caught her by the elbow. He shook his head.

“Why not?” Fontea snarled, rounding on Jaro.

Jaro pointed up at Aster. “If he’s telling us to hear it from Milo, it’s probably bad news, right?”

“That’s right, so?” Fontea asked.

“So, do you really want to hear bad news from Aster, or from Milo? From a stranger who never knew them, or from the one who followed them to their last moment?” Jaro asked.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Fontea grit her teeth. She stared at Aster, then whipped around, stomping off. She waved the invitation over her shoulder. “We’ll be there. If they’re dead, and their deaths are somehow on your head, you won’t be getting out of it alive.”

“Fontea,” Jaro sighed.

“What? Do you want to let him go free if—”

“Isn’t it possible that they’re in a bad place, but it’s the best that could have happened? He could be feeling incredibly guilty or nervous right now, for something that turned out the best it could,” Jaro pointed out.

Fontea frowned. “You’re really going out of your way to apologize for him.”

“I don’t think it’s fair to be so aggressive toward him before we know the whole story,” Jaro said gently.

“We’ll know soon enough,” Fontea growled, clenching the paper tight.

Aster shook his head at their backs. He looked at the few remaining advertisements, then started handing them out to random passerby. I should get back up there before they get to the dungeon. I don’t want Stella to have to face them alone if Fontea decides to get violent.

Retracing the path back to the dungeon with empty hands, Aster got back in time to watch a group of older, dignified-looking people vanish into the dungeon-turned-tearoom.

Is that the town council? I should go greet them. Aster took a deep breath, smiled his best, and walked into the teahouse.

Milo stood at the door, nervously welcoming the town council into the teahouse. Aside from the town council, the teahouse sat empty, not a single patron inside. As soon as he met eyes with Aster, Milo shot him a panicked look.

They’re our first patrons? Talk about starting on hard mode. Aster nodded at Milo and followed as Milo sat the town council at a set of adjoining tables near the rear. Back in the depths of the cave, flowers spilled down the wall, practically brushing the tables. The quiet drip of growing stalactites and stalagmites sounded louder back here, further from the entrance, where the sounds of the forest faded away, to be replaced by the eerie silence of stone and deep earth. Here, too, the heat outside turned to cool, a gentle breeze passing between the cave and the world outside.

The town council looked around, taking it all in. They murmured amongst themselves. One of the women clenched her shawl tighter, a sour expression on her face, while a man glanced up as a drop of water fell on his bald head.

Oh boy. Here we go.

Coming up behind the town elder, Aster gave the group a winning smile. “How are we doing today?”

“Aster! It’s a bit… ah, natural, isn’t it?” the elder said, holding a hand out to catch a drip.

A few of the councilmen and women turned and narrowed their eyes at Aster.

Aster patted the elder’s seat. “That’s the charm of it! Isn’t it wonderful to get to experience a natural dungeon in complete safety? Think about it. How many times in your life could you enter a cave like this and have a leisurely tea?”

“Well, that’s a fair point,” the elder said.

The others looked unconvinced.

Laughing lightly, Aster looked around at all of them. “Look at this natural beauty. The stalactites, the stalagmites. It took thousands of years for those to slowly grow, formed as mineral water dripped down from the ceiling. And the moss and flowers. These are all indigenous dungeon flora. Do you know, in all my dungeon delving, I’ve never seen flowers quite like these? These flowers are unique beauties you can’t see anywhere but this dungeon.”

He bent and felt the tablecloth. “Here, too. Take a look at this tablecloth. This is a leaf from deep in the dungeon, cut to fit the tables. And even the tables are hewn from the dungeon’s stone.”

A few of the councilmembers turned toward the tables, touching the stone or rubbing the leaf tablecloth between their fingers.

“The floor… if you look closely, you’ll see it threaded with blue crystal, the same crystal that lights the dungeon from here to the boss room. At night, the whole room glows with blue light,” Aster said, turning up toward the ceiling. The councilmen followed his gaze, searching out the blue crystals.

“And if you wait just one moment, we’ll bring out some delicious tea brewed from a unique leaf sourced from the dungeon as well,” Aster said.

One of the elders twitched. She started to raise her hand.

“There’s also tea bought in-town, for those who prefer, and herbal tea for those who prefer floral teas,” Aster added quickly.

The elder lowered her hand. She nodded slowly, pleased with his reply.

As Aster turned away, one of the elders caught his hand. Aster turned, tilting his head in question.

“That little girl… where did she go?” the elder asked.

Little girl? Did she see Stella? “White hair? Blue eyes?” Aster asked.

The elder nodded her head. “Yes, yes. Well… these old eyes of mine couldn’t make out the color of hers from that distance, but the white hair, yes.”

“That’s my daughter. She’s a bit shy,” Aster explained.

The elder nodded. “She looks like a sweet little girl. Here.” She held out her hand to Aster.

Aster held out his hand. She dropped a small sweet into his palm and closed his hand around it. “For the little girl.”

“Thank you.” Aster smiled, but earnestly this time. He nodded to everyone and hurried into the back.