Meet The Landers: Mia

Haru is leaving the Mithrilscale Ironworks in Dun Loireag. He set up an arrangement with Miho months ago to have a little corner in her store to showcase and sell the accessories that he forges. Rings. Bracelets. Crystal balls. Tiaras. There is no singular theme to them as they all represent places that he has visited while adventuring with the Silver Swords. Exploring. It is artisinal and profitable enough to get money to purchase items he can't easily obtain himself. Bird feathers from those that have the Hunting skill. Rare metals and gems from those with Mining. Everything requires being part of something greater to make it to that shelf.

"I know," he says to the piece of paper Miho left for him. Its a request to stock the current 'meta' power bangles accessory. Great physical boosts for the level, but Haru just can't get behind it. The white haired human puts it in his navy jacket pocket as he starts walking deeper into Dun Loireag. He wonders if thats what the accessory forgers before him experienced. The quest haunts him. Maybe they experimented with new metals that are otherwise inaccessible or difficult to work with. It doesn't take long for him to get lost in thought. His time in the market passed half an hour ago and now he is far away from any of the mainstream shops. Antiquing? Thrifting? He is off the beaten path as he scratches the back of his head, "I think Uta is rubbing off on me." Lost, but with a purpose, and making the most of it as the man wanders down the street. He has come this far and might as well see what is even further. Curiosity and a certain wanderlust to help spark a new idea or two.

There's the sound of something. A fire being blown for a moment, followed by a small tone of... music? Then the shatter of a small piece of glass. When he looks to the side, he'd only see a wall there. Yet, the sound of annoyance comes from beyond it in an unnatural manner.

Were he the curious sort, touching the wall, he'd find that in reality, there is no wall. And when poking his head through, there it is...

A hidden little workshop, with all kinds of curious old equipment. There's an area littered in glass little sculptures that have been clearly in use. There's a metalic 'dragon', the size of a hand -- beautifully detailed -- which is breathing fire out of its maw and slowly melting another piece of glass that is being worked by... Mia.

There's a little musicbox sitting next to her, playing a little tune as she works. Though she stops, ears up, when Haru pokes their head in.

The room is... strange. There's various portraits depicting winged and beautiful beings on the walls. There's all kinds of small instruments everywhere to do small precision work. But it looks too 'modern' to have been placed here by one of the Landers of the current times.

Haru's head shifts to the shattering. A pause as a gust rustles his white hair. Music? Fire? He draws himself out of his own head and into the present as he shifts to look at the wall. Not beholden to what is or isnt impossible, he walks forward towards it and reaches out to touch. "Huh," he says as the hand disappears through the false wall. With a sense of curiosity and a touch of arrogance, he walks towards it. He walks through it.

Curiosity can pay off. What is adventure without risk? A hidden workshop glints against the amethyst of his monocle. "Like a toy shop," he says as he tears himself from looking at the dragon sculpture to turn to Mia. "I used to have one of about this size," the young Artificer says as he carefully picks up a glass sculpture the size of his hand. "Feels like a lifetime ago," he looks at it for a moment before carefully putting it back. Dumping all his physical stats to handle delicate work makes his hands nimble, if not a bit noodle levels of stronk.

"How are you," he asks with the politeness of high society. Haru can't help it. Its ingrained in him. Much like the natural distrust of authority keeps him on edge behind a smiling mask.

Mia lets out a frustrated sound. "I, Mia, am trying to make a gift for a friend." She answers Haru, as he asks her how she is. "But I don't seem to have the flexibility for this. I can make swords just fine. A heavy hammer upon metal. But..." She mumbles at the glasswork. "I can't even do this, let alone craft a ring, or do... that."

She points at one of the images on the wall. And in that moment, something seems to GRAB Haru.

Not physically, but Emotionally.

It's a picture of a beautiful pale blonde and winged male kneeling before a raven haired beautiful winged woman. That isn't what causes his voice and heart to catch though. No, it's what is there between them. An offer of a ring. A symbol of marriage. It is a gorgeous ring that, even in 2D, captures a sense of awe and wonder.

Enough that, regardless on his control of his emotions normally, it just starts drawing tears of joy. A ring forged with so much talent. A single gem, green, at the center, with countless delicate gems that run around the ring itself. Small petals shaped like 'wings' rising to serve as the inlay for the gem itself.

The intense emotion drawn between the two people in that image. Two people so utterly and undeniably in love.

Accessories not for stats, not for a gimmick, or a relic. No...

Simply a ring amidst a proposal, that would leave all that beheld it to understand that the craftsman made that ring with as much love as those two feel amongst themselves.

Something well beyond Haru's own capabilities.

Haru turns in what seems like slow motion to him. Reality, even this version of it, melts. He has seen magic and things that can do fantastical things. This? This takes him by surprise. Enchants the Enchanter. The symbol of the ring and the art itself. The wonder. A whole story that is told in space of a picture. The burn, ache, joy, and awe in a prismatic form behind the blue eye turned glassier than the works in the room. A streak down the cheek of his porcelain mask.

Well beyond his abilities. Something dark and inadequate creeps in. Gets its claws into him. Pulls him back to the present. Haru runs a hand against the wet across his face, clearing this throat from the welling that settled there. "How is making something like that even possible," he asks. The caliber to evoke such a reaction is so far off the horizon he does not even know where such talent starts, let alone ends. "It seems as if it was made by Alv Moonlight Goldsmiths or the Goddesses themselves," he articulates his perception of divinity within such a symbol.

Mia dares not look at the image itself. She knows what power it holds. "If I could come close to even a shred of that..." She remarks. "I'd be happy." Mia sighs, looking at the little burner in front of her. She then motions to another spot.

A pile in the corner of the room. At first, it looked like it was just a bin of trash. But no.

Right there, Haru can see it. Tens... hundres... maybe thousands of attempts at making that very ring. Each of them delicate. Each of them precise. Looking almost exactly like that ring on that painting. But none of them have that impact. So many attempts. Haru can practically see the frenzied madness of the one who crafted that ring. Who tried to make it.

Nothing was good enough, until they got to THAT ring.

"I think it was made by a madman." Mia answers Haru, as she gets up and looks to be giving up for the day. "Maybe one of you Adventurers can reach that height. There's very few of us Landers who get to the stage of a Moonlight craftsman. For now... it looks like my skills simply lie elsewhere." The woman remarks, and motions to the door.

"Please do not tell anyone of this place. Do not take of the rings. Just... appreciate this place for what it is."

There is a brief moment where Haru opens his mouth as if to ask 'What is this place?' It shuts slowly. Some questions are best for asking. Some are for finding out for yourself. If it has a name, it has a name. Does it truly require one? Did that ring require a name to have the impact it had on him? No. It didn't. He turns to Mia with an affirmation, "I will not tell anyone of this place. Nor take the rings." This place feels sacred to him in such a short time.

"And Mia," he offers in a more typical form of Haru hubris, "if I find a way to that, I'd be happy to help make a gift for your friend." Haru starts to turn towards the picture but stops short of it being in the periphery of his eye beyond the purple monocle. "As for the shred, well, being a madman who gets closer to that ring sounds more plausible. For me," he turns to Mia during the motioning, "and I agree. Quite the weight of happiness there in even a shred of that."

The Artificer walks over and looks at the instruments of the workshop. Tools he is not familiar with and a few that are. Methods. Kneeling he picks up one of the rings and imagines how much time it must have taken for just one of these and still not measuring up. Like free handings a perfect circle or an absolute level plane. The light glints against the purple lens of his monocle as he slowly returns it back to the pile where he found it.