The Dreaming Tea

The sun had barely come up when I had left the Inn behind me. The seasons were beginning to change but it was not quite cold yet. The leaves are changing color but none have fallen to the ground yet. I made my way through the streets, it wasn’t quiet nor was it loud either, just the sounds of Lunaria beginning to wake up. I carried a basket with me on my arm as I strolled down the cobblestone, I planned on visiting the Pearlstone Market today. 

Although it is truly alive in the evening when the stars are shining bright, I choose to go this morning for a more peaceful and relaxed atmosphere. Along the way I noticed a young adventurer couldn’t have been older than 8 or 9, she seemed lost and was looking around nervously. I had approached her slowly to not startle her, I spoke to her gently and asked her where she was trying to go. She said she had meant to take lessons at the Scholars hall and that she had taken the wrong turn and then another and another, and soon everything seemed unfamiliar. 

I sympathized with her, even adults in Lunaria get lost, especially when the morning mist rises. So I walked her to the Scholar’s Hall. Her small footsteps hurried alongside mine, as we walked down the curve of the street toward the western side of the city. The sun rose higher and higher with every step we took and soon golden beams of light shone brightly through the stone archway of the Scholar’s hall and the child let out a sigh of relief.

Just before we reached the gate a handful of familiar faces spotted me. Young Adventurers I have known since they first wandered into the inn clumsily with their wooden practice swords and shy smiles. They recognized me instantly. Their eyes lit up and they ran up to greet me with cheerful voices and warm little hugs.  I crouched down and returned those hugs, thenI asked them how their studies were going. We only talked for a moment. It was quick and light. 

I wished them all a wonderful day and encouraged them to hurry inside before they were late. With a final wave, they disappeared into the Scholar’s Hall, their laughter trailing behind them. 

Once they had gone, I turned towards the path that would lead me to the Pearlstone Market. It wasn’t as busy as in the evening but there were still quite a bit of people out this morning. Vendors arranged baskets of fruit and tied bundles of herbs while the aroma of freshly baked bread spread through the air. My stomach was quickly reminding me that I have not eaten yet today, so I stopped at a stall run by a kindly old woman, who always smiles as though she was waiting specifically for you. I bought a sea salted emberfish rice pocket wrapped neatly in seaweed. Next, I picked up a mini forager’s box with cured firelink sausage, herbed cheese and brineberries. I couldn’t help myself to some rosemary bread, it smelled way too delicious to pass up! And to finish off my breakfast feast I settled on a frostbrew from the stall across the way. 

I carried everything to a corner of the market, where I sat on a stone bench. I ate slowly listening to the distant chatter of merchants and the sound of a bell ringing from a cart passing by. It felt peaceful, as if the whole city breathed in harmony. 

When I finished I wiped my hands on a cloth and gathered myself to begin the rest of the day. I find a shaded alcove overlooking the market, a place where traveling scribes often rest. I spread out my scrolls and ink, letting the morning breeze cool the fresh pages. There was something comforting about the rhythm of this moment. No rush. No expectations. Just the gentle unfolding of a new day. 

As I sit here writing, I can feel Lunaria waking all around me. The sounds grow a little louder, the colors a little brighter. I think I will return to the Inn soon and prepare the afternoon tea blend. Perhaps something calming today, something soft for the spirit to match the peacefulness of the morning. But before I go, I simply wanted to capture this beautiful morning in words, a reminder that no matter how small the moment, it can always be turned into a story. Even if it is as small as going to a market for breakfast or sharing kindness and helping someone reach their destination. 

Until next time,

Ella

Owner of The Dreaming Tea Inn.