Once Trevor had parted ways with Adabelle, he replaced the PathGuider over his eye. It wanted him to travel across the bridge that she had, but he figured he’d do as she said and go down the scenic route.

The magical GPS quietly insisted he turn around and head back towards the bridge, and he ignored it. Thimbleden’s reassurance that he would have no trouble making it in time ran through his head, and he took in the sights as he passed the bench where he had first heard Glyrphizith’s roar and met Gad, Froil, and Dag. They weren’t here, but he wondered if they would be again later.

Most of the traffic this morning came from people crossing the bridge in his direction, and Trevor was one of the few that was heading towards the residential district. Despite going against traffic he stuck to one side and the people flowed around him, giving him nods and bows in passing, which he politely returned.

On the other side of the bridge, he smiled to himself as he traveled past the houses.

Most of the buildings were similar to what he expected in some medieval fantasy land. These were wooden homes with thatched roofs and gray flagstones. Every one had small differences, which was a far cry from the cookie cutter houses that he had come to see dot the suburbs on Earth. They all were roughly the same relative shape as you really just need a square or rectangle to live in, but it would have been easy to pick out someone’s house when described.

As he walked further into the district, Trevor paused as he saw the results of what he could only call cultural whiplash. The buildings he had already passed were older and of the same general style. Those were scattered throughout, but styles from all over started popping up.

The ones he recognized first were Georgian and Victorian style homes, which looked incredibly out of place. Particularly the latter, as they tended to be much larger than the houses around them. Those ones, at least, appeared to have large families living out of them.

Even further into the residential district, Trevor encountered what could only have been described as an apartment complex. It was painted in bright, though mismatched, colors and fully reminded him of his studio on Earth. As he stopped and watched the people, however, he didn’t see any of the melancholy he would witness on his neighbor’s faces as they came and went.

Checking the map again, he noticed that a part of the residential district had been expanded upon. The wall had been moved out and written inside in very small print were the words “new Summoned-Style houses, coming soon.”

“Man, it seems like summoning people from other worlds is a big deal around here,” he said, scratching Mr. Tiggles. “I wonder if there’s, like, a limit? Or if this world is just going to become a melting pot of universal technology.”

“Meow,” Mr. Tiggles replied.

“Yeah, something to ask Jackson or Adabelle about when I get the chance, for sure.”

“Meow.”

Thimbleden had been right that it wouldn’t take long, and the PathGuider eventually lead Trevor to his destination. Drelik must have been a big deal in Tosa; his home, which the young man likened more to a mansion, was the biggest he had seen thus far.

It was built with Spanish style stucco, with a green garden leading up to the arched front door. The white home was topped with a red tiled roof, and there were several windows lining the front of the house. Trevor felt out of place as he approached the mansion, feeling as though the person who lived here had to be in a class far above his own.

Regardless of his feelings, he did approach. There was a job to be done. Trevor walked right up to the dark wood door and gave it a few healthy knocks as he raised the PathGuider off of his eye. Mr. Tiggles jumped off of his shoulder and disappeared into the garden.

The door opened almost immediately, surprising the young man as he was about to call for the cat. For a moment, Trevor thought he stumbled into an art gallery. There were several statues of various shapes and sizes, paintings hanging on the wall and set upon easels, books on tall shelves, and more. Trevor could see all this because the occupant was very short.

Standing beyond the threshold was an elderly dwarf. His white beard flowed nearly to the ground and matched the halo of short hair that circled his head but couldn’t quite reach the top. Even though he was wearing clothes close to what a craftsman would, Trevor thought that giving him a red suit and hat would end up making him look exactly like Santa Claus.

The dwarf looked at Trevor with expectation in his beady brown eyes before looking behind the young man at where he would expect a wagon to be. When his hopes and dreams were dashed, he looked up at his guest with a mix of sternness and sadness. “I’m sorry, young man, but I’m expecting a very important delivery. If you’d like to see my wife’s works, then you’ll have to come back next month.”

“I’m not even sure what month this is, Mr. Drelik,” Trevor admitted with a soft chuckle. He coughed into his hand as the dwarf gave him a curious look. “Oh, sorry, I was just Summoned here recently. I have your Floatstone, sir.”

Drelik’s face changed in an instant. “Thimbleden sent you with it?” he asked. “I was expecting a wagon! What wonderful news. I had everything set up so it could be moved to the back of the house.”

“Gremlins got to the wagon, sir,” Trevor explained. “Some kind of curse, according to Mr. Thimbleden. But I was told to go and visit him by Mayor Jackson and now here I am, carrying your Floatstone in a dimensional pocket.”

“In a what?” Drelik asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“My Power of Inventory.” To demonstrate, Trevor turned around and raised his hand. The Floatstone appeared as he pushed it out of his inventory, and it floated a few feet off of the ground.

With a clap of his hands, Drelik moved out of the way. “Please, come in, young man. I’m Drelik, the dwarf you’re looking for,” he said with a bow.

“Trevor Anderson, sir.” He performed the same bow before retrieving the Floatstone and walking inside.

The inside of the mansion was comfortably warm, and Trevor closed the door behind him. Drelik started walking towards the back, and the young man followed as he looked at all of the artwork. There were many styles on display, but nothing that really stood out. Not that he would know, art wasn’t something he even claimed to understand.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

One thing did catch his eye and caused the young man to stop. Sitting on an easel and painted in photo-quality detail were green, white, and red Lamborghinis overlooking the ocean on a starlit night. It looked like a poster a teenager would have on his wall, and he stared at it with interest.

Drelik noticed this, and paused. “Do you have the Summoned in your world?” he asked quietly. When Trevor shook his head, the dwarf continued. “These all belonged to my wife, Cindal. She was an Otherworld Dreamer, someone native to here but could see other worlds. A rare one with great creative talent. I was, am, very proud of her.”

Trevor tore his gaze away from the cars to see that Drelik had a sad, nostalgic smile on his face as he gazed upon the same painting. “Could you tell me more?” he asked.

The dwarf looked up at the young man before nodding. “She would bounce out of bed every morning,” he said brightly. “Every single one, saying that she had to sculpt this, or paint that. The Dreams would take a toll on her body, as she was never a restful sleeper, but her mind and creativity were sharp all the way until the day I lost her. Cindal would sit in front of whatever she planned on working with that day for nearly an hour, staring at the clay, or a blank canvas, until she figured out exactly how she wanted to portray what she had dreamt.”

“She’s done amazing work,” Trevor said honestly as he looked around.

Each piece had something different going on. In one painting, a pack of dogs made of rocks frolicked in a volcanic meadow. In another, an underwater city glowed brightly topped by a humongous lighthouse. Most of the statues were of races he had seen here in Tosa, but one was of a seven-legged spider that took up most of the corner of the room. It had been recreated in terrifying detail, like it could come to life at any moment.

“She really did,” Drelik agreed. “I worried about her a lot. The way she kicked and punched in her sleep was wild, but I loved her too much to move away. Sometimes the Dreams weren’t so pleasant, but she would feel compelled to draw them out anyway. I would sit with her, then, and watch patiently. Cindal always said it was easier that way. These are not her best works, but they were the ones that she was most proud of, and that alone makes me want to show them off.”

“I can tell that Cindal was very loved,” Trevor said, causing the dwarf to nod vigorously. “If you don’t mind me asking, how long has it been?”

“Twenty years, today, and after a hundred thirty years of marriage,” he said. “Which was why I was so excited about the Floatstone. Thimbleden warned me that he would be cutting it close due to how far it came, but he really delivered.”

“Did you teach her how to sculpt?”

“No. Not long before Cindal passed, I had her teach me,” Drelik said before motioning Trevor to follow him towards the back of his house. The young man obliged. “At the time, I felt it was too little, too late, but she beamed at me as happy as could be. Cindal could be a little pushy as a teacher, but that was part of her charm. Women should be a little pushy, I feel, especially when their husbands are slow-learning dullards who kept missing the chisel.”

They went through another door to the back of the mansion to see another garden. Trees and green plants that Trevor didn’t recognize grew out of every spot not covered in stone. There were several statues here that were obviously made by a hand different than the ones he had seen inside. They were all of a dwarven woman, which was evident, but the ones closest to the door were amateurish at best.

It didn’t seem to matter to Drelik, who stopped to show them off. “I didn’t have enough time to learn under Cindal,” he said. “But I tried. These are my earliest works, done before she passed. Her hand guided me, but I was still only able to make blocks of stone into smaller blocks of stone. I wanted to throw them away, but do you know what she told me?”

“What did she say?”

“Cindal told me that she could never allow it. They were made for her by the man she loved. To call them anything other than masterpieces, with all their heart and soul, was a disservice to the family. Every time I want to get rid of them, I hear those words, and these statues get to stay in the garden for another day.”

“I’m not much of an art aficionado, but these are better than anything I could make,” he offered.

“Only because you haven’t tried,” Drelik said dismissively. It was true, but Trevor didn’t say anything else. They walked further into the garden, and the quality of the statues started drastically improving. It was a slight increase at first, but with every one they passed it became more and more noticeable.

“This is Cindal, then?” Trevor asked.

“Aye. She’s the only one worth sculpting, and I spent the last twenty years for this moment,” Drelik said before coming to a stop at a pavilion at the end of the garden.

Floating in the air above a fountain was a statue of Drelik. He was standing as a proud figure pointing at the sky. He wore sturdy armor and wielded a shield in his other hand, and his beard was just as magnificent as it was now, though not nearly as long.

“This was Cindal’s final work of art,” Drelik explained. “She was a whirlwind, let me tell you. Constantly coming up with ways to keep me out of the garden, hiding the fact that she ordered Floatstone, putting up a temporary shelter so I couldn’t see what she was working on, and hiring people to take away the debris.”

“Does the Floatstone not keep floating when it’s broken off?” Trevor asked, surprised.

Drelik shook his head. “No. Once a piece is separated, then it falls to the ground like a regular stone. Only the whole remains floating, which makes it good for sculpting,” the dwarf explained. “But you could imagine my surprise when Cindal finally said I could come and see what she had been working on. She said it was her greatest masterpiece, the one she poured her heart and soul into. I was speechless.”

Smiling, Trevor looked away from the statue to regard the dwarf. “I don’t know much about art, but even I can tell that this was something carefully made. Cindal loved you very much, and it shows; as great as her other work was, this one is easily my favorite.”

When Drelik tore his eyes off of the Floatstone over the fountain, they were wet and ready to burst, but the smile he wore was one that would not be denied. “I plan on returning the favor,” he said. “Cindal’s not here to see it, but I want to be able to show the world that she was loved just as much as she loved. It’s not going to be nearly as good, but that doesn’t matter. I’ve practiced for thirty years for this, and I finally feel like I’m ready.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing how it turns out,” Trevor said as he looked at the other statues of Cindal around the garden. “Where would you like it?”

“Anywhere is fine, so long as it’s close to the ground.”

Nodding, Trevor walked to the center of the pavilion and pushed the Floatstone out of his inventory. It hovered an inch off of the ground, which the young man felt was low enough. Drelik seemed to agree as he retrieved his tools on a cart from a nearby shed, which included a small clay figure of what he assumed was the final product.

[[Quest complete! You made a delivery!

Okay, okay, it’s a little more convoluted than that, and there was a lot more backstory than you planned, but you still did it! Drelik, the aging dwarven guardsman who fell in love with an Otherworld Dreamer, has finally gotten everything he needs to match the statue Cindal left him with many years ago.

Reward! Eight silver coins have been added to your inventory.

Level Up! You have gained one (1) stat point. It has been added to your bank, which has four (4) stat points left.]]

“I, um,” Trevor paused, reluctant. “I don’t really have anywhere to go. Do you mind if I stay and watch? In case it’s easier. If not then I-“

“Of course you can stay, Trevor,” Drelik said with a comforted grin. “There’s chairs in the shed. Just don’t rush me, and feel free to leave at any time.”

“Thank you, Mr. Drelik,” Trevor said, returning the grin before retrieving a chair.

He sat down a good distance away, watching as the dwarf stared at the Floatstone intently. He drew no lines, but simply regarded the block. The young man didn’t even complain when it took the dwarf over an hour to finally raise his hammer and chisel.