001 : Redwood

“Number one, number one...” The little man mumbled under his breath as he looked through three separate rings of mismatched keys attached to his belt. You’d think that by having such a simple numerical catalogue that the keys would be in an easy to remember order, but alas no, not for a certain Mr. Kaufmann. “It’ll confuse anyone who’d try n’ rob the place.” He once told me, so I decided to keep a tally. So far – due to our zero break ins – he is losing fourty-five to nil, and that’s only since I started to help around the shop.

“Here we are!” Kaufmann proudly presented a small bronze key, and inscribed across the metal were small floral designs disrupted by a paper tag with the number one in a fine black ink stuck onto its head. “Told you it wouldn’t take long.” He reached up to the lock that held the iron locker in front of him closed, and with a click it came loose in his hand. Luckily number one was relatively close to the ground, with some of the taller storage compartments being a couple dozen metres in the air I was more than happy to inspect one that didn’t require a ladder or levitation charm. I remember first walking into the back room and marvelling that something so big was hidden away all this time, each wall made up from a mishmash of rectangular lockers interlocking with one another and jutting out awkwardly reaching all the way to the ceiling which, if I squinted my eyes, I could see a few boxes embedded up there as well. The thick green lock clanged to the stone floor by our feet as Kaufmann opened the door, the hinges whining, to reveal a tall wooden crate about a metre or so long. He nodded to me, and I reached in to heave it out and onto the floor. It was heavy, but not quite as heavy as I would have expected before picking it up based on its size, but I guess it’s the little mercies in life, right?

“Shall I open it?” I asked. I made a point to always ask since item fifty-six, which my enthusiasm resulted in the loss of Kaufmann and my self’s eyebrows and a strongly worded scolding, so better to be safe than sorry.

“Go for it, lad.” Said Kaufmann, handing me the crowbar that leant to the side of the lockers. Steadily I pried up the wooden board on front, trying my best to not damage it like I had been shown so that when resealing it I don’t have to fetch a new one or, worse than that, make a new one. After a couple months of practise, it wasn’t too hard, and the board was on the ground after a little effort. Inside was the regular wooden shavings in the majority of the crates, but I could already see the occasional glint of metal from underneath as I moved my head, and jutting out was something pale – not quite white. Bone? Kaufmann did that smile he always did when we checked on something I knew he was fond of, and leant into the box. “Now this one-“, he said as he swept wood shavings away, “This one is a real beaut. The hassle I had to go through to get this mind you, makes me love it more.” From the box he pulled out a sword. God – I loved it when it was a sword. Wrapping itself around the blade was an antler that had small patterns painted across it, and the handle itself looked to be some kind of leather-wrapped bone. The blade looked well kept – one of the perks of these lockers – and shone in the light of the many hanging lanterns that adorned the room. From its pommel, a thin ribbon snaked around Kaufmann’s wrist of its own accord, and I could see a green, ferny leaf hanging off the end. I liked this one, I decided.

Kaufmann studied it all over, checking for any sign of decay or damage, then handed it to me to do the same. As he let go, I felt the ribbon weaving its way around my arm, and couldn’t help but notice the overwhelming smell of the forest floor seem to flood my senses. I looked for all the things I had be trained to look for. The leather was in perfect condition, almost too perfect, and across the blade there were no dents or kinks. The same could be said for the antler.

“Well.” Said Kaufmann, “Your conclusion.” I thought for a moment, weighing numbers in my head.

“Perfect condition. 4,000 gold. Best suited for a more druidic fighter.” I spoke with complete confidence, but I hoped he wouldn’t notice the look in my eye that subtly screamed I was out of my depth. Instead, he clapped his hands and laughed.

“Crackin’ work! Not far off the mark, not far at all. 3,000 gold, the rest you nailed. As a bonus question, might I ‘ear your theory as to why it’s condition is in such a good shape?” This threw me a little. Our lockers were all charmed to a slight degree, preventing the majority of the toll of time on our produce, but he knew I knew this, and Kaufmann was the kind of man who loved to lay down a trick question for the sake of it.

“I’ll be honest sir, I would assume it’s never been used.” He smiled, and motioned for me to hand it back. I obliged.

“Never used, well, I can tell you myself that it’s been used. Couple tree Groblemms tried to take it from me on my way back home from collectin’ it. No, it’s been used. Look here.” His finger pointed to the leaf at the end of the ribbon, and my eyes followed. For a moment, I wasn’t sure what I was looked at, but as I watched I saw it… breathing.

“It’s… It’s alive?” I looked up to his eyes, which twinkled with delight.

“It is indeed, my inquisitive page. As long as the tree that this leaf is from still lives, so will the sword. And while it lives it can heal and rest, hence…”

“Hence the perfect condition.” I felt differently when looking at it now. Like I was looking at a deer or… I wasn’t too sure. Just not how I would feel looking at a sword. Kaufmann put the blade neatly back in the box, then stood up clapping me on the back.

“I’ll leave it to you to pack up.” He tossed me a ring of keys which I just barely caught.

“Good luck finding that key,” He chuckled, “We’ll make a merchant out of you yet.”