Chapter 79: Craftsmanship
Eleanor and I led the way, with Leilah trailing quietly just behind us. Oliver took point to clear our path, while Mia anchored the rear, ensuring our flanks remained secure.
We were drawing a fair amount of attention from the locals, but thankfully, it was nothing unmanageable. We were certainly not the first party of wealthy, noble-looking individuals to visit the sacred streets of Helianth, and we would definitely not be the last.
The town held an unparalleled level of historical prestige and patriotic symbolism for the Kingdom of Helios. Countless pilgrims, scholars, and nobles journeyed here year-round simply to walk the very earth where Apollina had been born.
"So, Eleanor," I asked casually as she strolled beside me, "it has been a few years since you last visited. Have things changed significantly around here?"
"I feel as though there are far more people crowding the streets compared to my last visit, Your Majesty," she answered, her mercantile gaze sweeping over the bustling thoroughfares.
"And it is only the morning," I said, taking in the lively scene.
There were dozens of families scattered throughout the market. I spotted numerous young couples strolling arm-in-arm, their children darting between the merchant stalls with joyful, echoing laughter.
Overall, the town possessed a wonderfully warm, familial ambiance. The Capital certainly had its moments of joy, but since Helianth was nestled deeper in the countryside, the atmosphere here felt more authentic. It was less tense, crowded, and suffocating compared to the endless political maneuvering of the Sun Capital.
Even the morning air felt significantly purer here. Such was the timeless charm of the countryside.
A thousand years ago, this entire region had been nothing more than a crude settlement, hovering somewhere between a sprawling village and a minor town. Now, however, the entire valley had blossomed into one of the most celebrated tourist destinations on the continent, likely second only to the Capital itself.
And all of this prosperity existed simply because it was the birthplace of a single, extraordinary woman.
Apollina had been born as commoner, possessing no noble titles, inherited wealth, or grand armies. She had only managed to stand out among her peers because she possessed a staggering, fearless courage and a burning desire to force the world to change.
To accomplish what she had a thousand years ago was nothing short of miraculous. Honestly, the word amazing felt too weak to accurately describe the magnitude of what Apollina had managed to pull off. Rallying the fractured people of the territory under her singular banner and forging an entire Kingdom from the ashes of war would have been an impossible task for any seasoned warlord. For a common-born woman of her era, it was a feat of myth.
Perhaps I should have shown her spirit far more respect when I stood before her inside the Flame...
"Over here," I said, shaking my head to clear away my historical thoughts. I subtly jutted my chin toward a nearby merchant’s stand.
Like most of the vendors lining the street, the old man stood behind a wide, sturdy wooden table overflowing with his carefully arranged wares.
"Welcome, welcome, ladies and gentlemen!" the elderly merchant immediately called out with a wide smile. However, the moment his sharp eyes swept over Eleanor and me, his posture instantly straightened, and he quickly corrected himself. "Hah, Milord. Milady."
"Are these all handmade?" Eleanor asked curiously, leaning forward to inspect the colorful array of jewelry.
I scanned the table as well. There were several sturdy bracelets forged from bronze, and a few necklaces strung with iron-link chains. However, the smaller, delicately carved wooden amulets genuinely appeared to be the product of painstaking, manual labor. It was entirely possible the metal pieces had been imported from a larger forge, but it was hard to believe the wooden charms were anything but local.
"Every single one is handmade, Milady," the old man beamed, his chest puffing out with pride.
"How long does it take you to craft pieces like these?" I asked him, curious.
It must have been very tedious, deeply irritating process. From my perspective, craftsmanship required a level of patience and meticulous focus that a man like me simply did not possess.
"It truly depends on the piece, Milord," he explained, wiping his calloused hands on his apron. "Working alone, it can take hours just to finish a single item. For these necklaces, for example, the threading is exceedingly fine, but it holds vastly better than the chain-shaped threads. I have to knot them all together by hand. Thankfully, my daughter assists me with the finer details."
Hours for a single trinket. Exactly as I had thought.
Regardless, if they truly were handmade...
I reached out and picked up one of the more delicate necklaces strung with polished pearls. The smooth surface of each pearl was engraved with beautiful, flowing runes. I knew instantly that they possessed no magical effect; they were purely aesthetic, traditional symbols meant to invoke good fortune. Yet, the script had clearly been carved with immense care, and the pearls themselves appeared to be hand-painted.
Holding the necklace up to the light, I gently rubbed my thumb over the painted surface.
Satisfied, I set it gently back down on the cloth and picked up another piece.
This one was distinctly different. The runes carved into the wood were ancient symbols meant to invoke strength, and the coloring was far bolder and more aggressive. They were straightforward, honest good-luck charms meticulously carved into solid oak.
At first glance, it looked like a perfectly simple trinket, but the depth and precision of the carving elevated the humble wood into a real piece of art.
As someone who had laid eyes on countless priceless royal jewels throughout my life, I could easily attest to the quality of the craftsmanship. Even Eleanor stood beside me in quiet wonder, her merchant’s eyes filled with admiration at the hard and beautiful work displayed on the humble table.
"They look beautiful, but you have not sold very many of them, have you?" I said bluntly.
Putting aside the wooden and bronze jewelry, I noticed several bolts of woven silk hanging on display behind the old man. There were not many of them, but they looked entirely untouched by the passing crowds.
I already had a very clear idea as to why.
"Not much, Milord," he said with a sigh, awkwardly scratching his cheek.
"Why not? They truly are beautiful," Mia asked from behind me, leaning in slightly to get a better look at the delicate carvings.
"Well, that is..." the old man began, hesitating.
"The craftsmanship is beautiful, but the base materials themselves are neither eye-catching nor precious," Eleanor answered in his stead, her voice gentle but analytical.
The old man nodded in agreement.
Yes, even from a distance, I could easily tell that was the core issue.
"The people traveling here are predominantly wealthy tourists," Eleanor continued. "They simply would not bother to purchase products made from such common, low-quality materials when they are looking for grand souvenirs."
Eleanor was the brilliant daughter of the Kingdom’s most successful merchant; of course she understood the cruel, underlying realities of the local market.
"So, there are much better, more established sellers working around here?" I asked, sweeping my gaze across the bustling street.
"Indeed, Milord! B—But I swear to you, you will not find anything in those grand shops as meticulously crafted by hand as our products!" The old man blurted out defensively.
I let out a soft, amused laugh, watching him desperately try to hook us as customers.
Honestly, the mercantile competition in a place like Helianth must have been brutal. The town had swelled into a massive tourist hub, and independent stand sellers were crammed into nearly every available corner.
For the vast majority of wealthy travelers, purchasing luxury goods from a common street stand rather than a proper, established storefront was seen as a massive red flag. The wares were deemed untrustworthy and were consequently ignored.
It was perfectly fine to purchase cheap street food or simple, miscellaneous kitchen items from a wooden stall. But when it came to personal jewelry and fine clothing, it was an entirely different matter. The competition for the elite coin was vicious, and naturally, wealthy patrons demanded not only pretty designs but also high-quality materials to flaunt their status. It was a perfectly normal cycle of commerce.
"What is your name?" I asked him directly.
"Tom, Milord!" He answered, puffing out his chest and planting his hands on his hips with a grin.
"You might have chosen the completely wrong specialization, Tom," I told him mercilessly.
Eleanor opened her mouth, clearly intending to soften my harsh critique, but I did not give her the time.
"With this level of carving talent, you could have easily created high-utility products that the common folk would buy in massive numbers," I pointed out coldly. "If you had poured this exact same amount of painstaking effort into something useful, rather than wasting it on common wood masquerading as luxury jewelry, you would have made a fortune by now."
At my blunt words, Tom’s forced grin collapsed into a deeply complicated expression. He slowly shook his head. "Indeed, Milord. However—"
"This was my mother’s dream."
A soft, feminine voice suddenly answered from the shadows behind the stall.
Standing in the open doorway of the small, dilapidated house directly behind the merchant stand was a very beautiful young woman. She appeared to be exactly my age.
She rested one delicate hand against the wooden doorframe. Her dark, brownish-black hair was tied loosely, cascading softly over her shoulder, framing a pair of soft blue eyes.
She offered a gentle, melancholy smile as she looked down at the unsold jewelry displayed on the table.
"We started this endeavor all together," she continued quietly. "It is our shared dream. There is truly nothing better we could possibly do with our lives than this."
"That is admirable," Eleanor said, returning her warm smile, clearly in attempt to soften my merciless words from earlier.
The young woman smiled back in quiet gratitude.
"A lot admirable," I added, my voice suddenly right beside her ear.
She flinched backward. In the blink of an eye, I had silently crossed the distance and was now standing directly next to her on the other side of the merchant’s table.
"W-What...!" Tom gasped, dumbfounded by my sudden appearance right behind him, mirroring the shock of my own people.
But I completely ignored the commotion, keeping my smile fixed squarely upon the beauty standing in front of me.