The Shopkeeper's Tale

For a moment, they just stood there, staring at each other, the weight of the years between them hanging heavy in the cold night air. The shop door stood ajar, letting in the crisp mountain wind that carried the faint scent of pine and the distant howl of the wind through the peaks. The room felt frozen in time. Neither of them wanted to be the first to break the silence that had stretched across their lives for so long.

Cliff's heart pounded in his chest, an odd mixture of surprise and warmth that he hadn’t felt in what seemed like ages. His hands twitched slightly, unsure of what to do. Neil was there! Standing in front of him after all these years, wearing that same grin that had gotten them through countless scrapes as boys.

Neil took the first step–he always did–his boots thudding softly against the wooden floor as he crossed the space between them. Without a word, he wrapped Cliff in a firm, warm embrace. Cliff hesitated for a fraction of a second, still processing the surrealness of the moment, before he hugged Neil back, hard. Neil was a good head taller than Cliff now that th young shopkeeper had to stand on his tippy toes. The years melted away in that embrace; the lost time, the missed letters, the unspoken apologies. None of it mattered now. What mattered was that they were here, together again, as if nothing had changed.

“Gods, it’s good to see you, Cliff,” Neil said, his voice thick with emotion.

Cliff pulled back slightly, looking at Neil’s face. The lines around his eyes were deeper, his jaw more angular than it had been in their youth, but the warmth in his gaze was the same. The years had changed them both, but not where it counted.

“It has been too long,” Cliff said, his voice catching in his throat, and then with a chuckle, he added, “I thought you’d forgotten all about this me,” he teased.

Neil laughed; a sound that filled the shop, bouncing off the shelves of potions and gleaming weapons. “Never,” he said, shaking his head. “I thought it was the other way around.”

Then Cliff dropped his arms and clasped his hands. His shoulders drooped. He suddenly remembered. “I am sorry for not writing back to you. It’s just…” he waved his hands in the air. “Life,” he finished lamely.

Neil smiled. He shook his head. “Life,” he murmured. “I didn’t want to disturb you, too. I knew that you needed the right kind of people to succeed as a top merchant and all. And… well, who was I to contact you? I just kill stuff and bring back resources for you guys.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, as if trying to find the right words to bridge the gap between them.

Cliff shook his head firmly. He placed a firm hand on Neil’s shoulder. “Don’t ever think that. You have always been… it was never about partnerships with all those stuck-ups and pretenders in the university. I got tired of it all, to be honest. That’s why I’m here in this place.”

“I did wonder about that, yeah,” Neil said, grabbing Cliff’s wrist softly.

“I got tired of everything for a while. And I did not want to disturb you with your training. The last thing I wished was for you to worry about me.” Cliff stammered. “I... I know I should’ve written more. I should’ve–” he began, but Neil cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“Don’t,” Neil said, his voice soft but firm. “You were doing what you had to do. I get it. You were at university, making a future for yourself. I never held it against you.”

Cliff face softened with relief, and he let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for years. “Still, I should’ve—”

But then, Neil chuckled. His hsoulders shook. “Look at us being foolish when we could have just talked again.” Cliff stared, then began to join him in his laughter.

“We’re both here now,” Cliff interrupted again, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “That’s what matters.”

Neil smiled back, and for a moment, they just stood there, two men who had been boys together, reconnecting in the quiet of the shop, with the night swirling around them.

“Come on,” Cliff said finally, gesturing toward the door. “Let’s go get a drink. Farrow’s probably still got that old ale of his. And if we’re lucky, Kellan’s got a story or two to share.”

Neil chuckled. “Farrow’s ale, huh?”

They headed out into the cold night, the door to Cliff’s shop creaking closed behind them. The stars above were sharp and clear in the mountain sky, the moon casting a silver glow over the town of Reuben’s Rise. The streets were quiet, save for the distant hum of laughter and voices coming from the inn.

As they walked, Cliff felt something settle inside him; a weight lifting, a peace he hadn’t realized he’d needed. He glanced over at Neil, whose eyes were scanning the familiar surroundings, taking it all in as if for the first time.

“You chose well. It’s peaceful up here,” Neil said, his breath forming small clouds in the crisp air. “After the city... well, this feels like a different world.”

Cliff nodded. “It’s simple. Quiet.”

They reached the Mountain’s Hearth, its sturdy wooden doors standing open, spilling light and warmth into the cold night. Inside, the hearth blazed brightly, and the scent of roasted meat and spiced ale filled the air. Farrow stood behind the bar, his hands busy polishing tankards, while Kellan was serving drinks to a group of late-night traveling adventurers laughing boisterously in the corner.

The moment Farrow spotted Cliff and Neil, his weathered face split into a wide grin. “Cliff! Late night polishing at the shop?” he called, setting down the tankard and wiping his hands on his apron. “And who’s this with ya? My, he’s got decent wear, he does.”

“Good to see you too, Farrow,” Cliff said with a smile, leading Neil to the bar. "This one's Neil. He's an old friend, way before university."

Farrow wasted no time, pulling two tankards of his finest ale and sliding them across the bar. “This one’s on the house,” he said with a wink. “Good to me you, Neil. Was beginning to worry that our Cliff here needed some more friends. Had half a mind to send Kellan and Mila sometimes. Looked like the lonely, starving-unless-reminded-to-eat type.”

Neil and the siblings chuckled. Kellan and Mila crept from behind Farrow’s grizzly frame. They studied Neil and his adventurer’s armor. Kellan’s eyes positively sparkled.

Neil took the tankard with a grin, raising it in a toast. “To old friends.”

Cliff clinked his tankard against Neil’s. “To old friends. And to new adventures.”

The ale was strong and smooth, filling Cliff with warmth as it slid down his throat. He leaned back against the bar, feeling more at ease than he had in years. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room, and the familiar hum of laughter and conversation wrapped around them like an old blanket.

They moved to a quiet table near the fire, and soon Kellan joined them, eager to hear Neil’s stories from his time at the adventurer’s guild. Neil didn’t disappoint, launching into tales of his early days. He started out mopping floors, cooking meals, and cleaning up after senior soldiers. His voice was full of life as he described the grueling training sessions that followed; sword drills that left his muscles aching, nights spent camping in the freezing cold, and the satisfaction of finally being trusted to collect simple herbs along the mountain’s paths.

Cliff listened, a small smile on his lips. It was like old times, laughing and talking, sharing stories of the past and dreams of the future. For a moment, Cliff let himself forget about the shop, about the weight of responsibility that usually pressed down on his shoulders. He let himself be present, here, with his oldest friend.

As the night wore on, Neil’s stories shifted to the present. He spoke of his first real mission, scheduled for the next day. It was a simple fetch quest, venturing into the early chambers of the mountain dungeon to retrieve a rare herb for one of the local apothecaries. Cliff noticed the excitement in Neil’s eyes as he spoke, the same spark of adventure that had always driven him, even as a boy.

“You’ll do fine,” Cliff said, his voice steady. “You’ve always been good under pressure.”

Neil smiled, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his expression. “I hope so. It’s my first real test, you know? Everything I’ve trained for comes down to tomorrow.”

"A simple fetch quest?" Cliff cocked an eyebrow.

"Well, a fetch quest with a chimera monster guarding it," Neil added.

Kellan, who had been listening quietly, chimed in. “You’ve got this, Neil. And if you need any extra supplies, you know where to go.” He gave Cliff a pointed look, a grin spreading across his face.

Cliff rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure he’s got everything he needs.” Then he said seriously, "Chimeras are tough, but they're very predictable. And you say you've been training for years under your guild?" When Neil nodded, Cliff said, "Then you'll be fine. Stop by my shop tomorrow and I'll set you up with what you need."

Neil smiled. "Thanks. I've been given the standard allowance for my first adventure. I'll let you decide which gear and items to bring with me tomorrow."

"You got it," Cliff promised.

Neil laughed, the sound rich and full, but there was a seriousness in his eyes when he looked at Cliff. “Thanks again, Cliff.” The words were simple, but Cliff knew they carried the weight of more than just tonight. They carried the weight of the years they’d been apart. And Cliff remembered promising that no matter where life had taken them, they would always have each other’s backs. He continued, "It's just... we sold amost everything for me to jooin the guild and this time, it's my turn to pay my parents back." He snorted into his drink. "Though what my mother would really like is for to marry someone--anyone!--and give her some grandkids to dote on."

They both laughed and drank, and spent the rest of the evening talking, laughing, and drinking, the warmth of their friendship growing stronger with every shared story. As the fire burned low and the inn began to quiet, Cliff found himself reflecting on Neil’s words from earlier.

“You still have it in your eyes,” Neil said as he sipped the last of his ale. “You’ve got a knack for people. Thought your eyes turned weary grey when I saw you again, but they’re still there, after all.”

“Huh?”

But Neil did not elaborate.

By the time they finally decided to call it a night, Cliff felt a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in a long time. They left the inn, waving at Farrow, and stepped out into the cold night once more. Cliff glanced over at Neil, who was pointing at the foot of the mountain.

“We’re setting up a new adventurer’s guild there. If you want… and when I’m not questing… maybe you can drop by. Or I’ll drop by your place?”

Cliff hugged his old friend and felt the warm breath of his smile near his ear. “That would be great.”