The shop's door closed, and as the footsteps of the customers faded away, 'Bouma's Fishing Gear' fell into silence.
Bouma leaned against the doorframe, gazing outside for a moment. The winter's chill wind brushed against the glass panes, producing a low whistle. Inside the shop, now empty, only the shelves and display cases lightly dusted with grime greeted him. The wooden floor bore scratches and wear from the customers' footprints, yet even those marks seemed to whisper that the day's clamor had ended. Bouma, bothered by the dust accumulated on the display case, fetched a rag and began to wipe it quietly. As his hand passed over it, the wood's grain became more vividly apparent.
He slowly stepped deeper into the shop, surveying his surroundings. Harpoons and nets hung neatly on the walls, while fishing lures and tools rested on the shelves. In the corner untouched by sunlight, a candle flickered faintly with the draft, and beneath it, the eel glaives gleamed with a silvery sheen. Bouma glanced down at the dust on his hands and roughly rubbed it off with his sleeve. Then, a rumble echoed from his stomach, prompting him to chuckle softly and pat his belly with his hand. He hadn't had a proper meal all day, busy attending to customers. As hunger surged, his body grew languid, and he directed his steps toward the back of the shop.
At the rear stood a round brick hearth, stacked solidly. Capped with a black iron lid, it vented smoke through the chimney, and a small door at the front allowed for adding firewood. Bouma picked up a few logs from the pile stacked beside the hearth. The rough bark grated against his palm, and the distinctive woody scent tickled his nose. He opened the door and carefully inserted the logs. Soon, the embers revived, crackling softly. As flames engulfed the wood, a warm heat spread throughout the shop. Bouma extended his hands over the fire for a moment, savoring the warmth.
Beside the hearth sat a pot already boiling with water. It bubbled vigorously, forming small foam, and hot steam rose from it. Bouma retrieved the prepared ingredients. Dried fish and desiccated vegetables lay neatly on a wooden tray. He grasped a piece of the solidly dried fish and carefully tore off a thick chunk of flesh. The fish crumbled firmly at his fingertips, releasing a deep, salted aroma. Dropping the torn pieces into the pot, the fish gradually softened upon contact with the water, infusing the broth. The liquid's color deepened progressively, adding layers of rich flavor.
Next, he took up the dried vegetables. The carrots were thinly sliced and thoroughly parched, while the onions retained their brownish skins. A few herbs were also at hand. Bouma added them one by one to the pot. As the vegetables submerged, they began to swell, ready to impart depth to the stew.
Bouma drew out a large wooden spoon and stirred the pot's contents slowly. The fish flesh and vegetables mingled, thickening the stew. Fish, when properly smoked or salted, becomes a superior provision compared to jerky or dried bread. Especially in winter, when fresh ingredients are scarce in Damu, a stew made from such dried fish and vegetables was an invaluable meal.
Bouma watched the stew simmer, a satisfied smile crossing his face. As the flames licked the pot's underside and the steam grew denser, he opened the hearth's small iron door and added one or two more logs.
With the fire strengthened, the heat intensified, filling the shop's cold air with warmth. Clutching his thick woolen garment with one hand, he absorbed that warmth deep into his body. The cozy yet substantial comfort—unique to the wooden pillar walls, the thick leather rugs, and the sturdy timber shelves scattered about—enveloped him entirely.
Once the stew was ready, Bouma fetched a bowl. Carved from wood, it gleamed with the patina of use. He carefully ladled the stew into it with the spoon. Each dip brought up chunks of well-cooked, hearty fish flesh.
The fish was tender and moist, its salted flavor dissolving into the broth so that no additional seasoning was needed. The vegetables, cooked to a soft clump, enhanced the stew's depth. The carrots retained a gentle chew while softening, and the onions melted on the tongue with a subtle sweetness. The herbs' fragrance wafted subtly, harmonizing the whole.
Bouma carried the bowl to the small table beside the hearth. Seated in the chair, he scooped up a spoonful and brought it to his mouth. The warm broth filled his palate, thawing his chilled body. The fish dissolved silkily on his tongue, and the vegetables' texture provided satisfaction with each bite. He ate slowly, gazing around the shop. The firelight illuminated the fishing tools on the walls, casting long shadows. In the quiet, only the soft crackle of burning wood and the spoon clinking against the bowl resonated faintly. In the midst of winter, the peace of this moment wrapped around him.
At that instant, the shop's door creaked open, and Dallen and Mau entered.
Bouma smiled upon seeing them.
"Oh, come on in! Dallen, Mau. It's been a while."
Dallen greeted first.
"Have you been well?"
Mau spoke in a deep, resonant voice.
"That smells good. What have you been cooking?"
Bouma laughed as he replied.
"Fish stew. I was hungry, so I had some. Want a bowl?"
Dallen fluttered wings while responding.
"No, that's alright. We're here on business as well. We've brought some bait, like last time."
Bouma's eyes sparkled.
"Bait? The worms from before sold so quickly, customers snapped them up faster than I could count, khahaha."
Dallen nodded.
"That's why this time we've got small shrimp, grasshoppers, and hawkmoth caterpillars too. All from Latulle cave, five boxes each."
Bouma showed interest.
"Hmm? I'd love to see them right away. If it's from you, Dallen, it'll sell out for sure—so I'll say upfront that I'm happy to buy them all."
Mau pointed to the wagon parked in front of the shop.
"They're loaded on the wagon. Shall I bring them in?"
Bouma nodded.
"I'd appreciate that. But who are the folks behind you?"
Dallen turned and introduced them.
"Ah, these are guests of Elder Benarr. They'll be staying in Damu for a while, and we've been tasked with guiding them."
Mau added.
"This is Garvel, this is Iris, and this little Droko is Nia. Anyway, to enjoy the festival, we figured we'd start by showing them tools for catching Kannook Salmon!"
Bouma extended a hand toward them.
"That's kind of you to say! Pleased to meet you. Welcome to Damu. I hope you enjoy the festival."
Garvel surveyed the shop's interior.
"The items here are quite intriguing. There are so many harpoons in various shapes."
Iris smiled as she said.
"Garvel is always curious about new things."
Nia explored the shop with eyes full of curiosity.
"There are so many things I want here!"
Bouma, delighted by their reactions, responded.
"If there's anything you need, just let me know. Customers seeking fine fishing gear are always welcome."
At that moment, Nia pulled a fishing rod from a backpack and held it out to Bouma. It was the one Garvel had bought long ago at the grand market in the Levados Plains.
"Do you have a harpoon made from this wood?"
Bouma examined the rod, his eyes lighting up.
"This is... made from Wivre Nest? That's a truly rare wood—impressive to have a rod crafted from such a precious material."
Nia asked with eyes brimming with anticipation.
"Then, do you have a harpoon made from this wood? Wi-wi-wi... Wiblbl. Wivre Nest!"
Glancing toward Garvel for help, Nia looked on as Garvel silently mouthed the wood's name, 'Wivre Nest.'
Bouma stroked his chin in thought, then nodded.
"Hmm... I do have a single-bladed spear for salmon fishing that I acquired ages ago... Let me see... I recall it was made from Wivre Nest."
Bouma went to the back corner of the shop, pulled out a heavy wooden box, and dusted it off. Opening it revealed a smoothly finished long spear. The blade gleamed, and intricate patterns were carved into the wooden shaft.
Nia's eyes sparkled as an exclamation burst forth.
"I'll buy it!"
Bouma laughed.
"Buying without even hearing the price? You must be in a hurry, khahaha."
Nia excitedly lifted the spear. It felt light yet solid in hand.
"Alright, shall we move the bait then?"
Dallen said, flying toward the wagon parked in front of the shop.
Following Dallen, Mau strode out and hefted the boxes with strength, carrying them into the shop. Bouma received them and began organizing on the shelves.
"These baits will sell out fast. With the festival approaching, customers will flock in."
Garvel looked at the bait boxes and asked.
"What fish are these baits used for?"
Dallen explained.
"The small shrimp are great for luring small fish or eels, grasshoppers work well on surface-feeding fish, and hawkmoth caterpillars are effective for deep-water dwellers."
Garvel nodded.
"Fascinating. I'd like to try them myself."
Iris smiled as she said.
"Lord Garvel, are you going to learn fishing too?"
Garvel replied with a smile.
"New knowledge and experiences are always welcome."
Nia spotted a harpoon in the shop's corner and remarked.
"That harpoon is really big, how large are the fish you catch with it?"
Bouma pointed to the harpoon.
"That's mainly for big fish, but in Damu, it's used for Kannook Salmon."
Nia's eyes gleamed.
"Kannook Salmon!?"
Bouma nodded.
"Yes. When the festival starts soon, you'll see hundreds, thousands of Kannook Salmon swimming upstream along the riverbanks."
Then, with enthusiasm, he added.
"It's still early for Kannook Salmon, but now's a perfect time for catching Clarias catfish. The sun's just starting to set, so shall we go together?"
Nia gazed at Bouma with eyes full of expectation. Bouma, holding the harpoon and tapping it lightly with one hand, continued.
"In simple terms, it's fishing for sustenance. It's what the Dawi and Muwa ancestors have done for ages. I feel like showing you something good. And since you're guests of Elder Benarr, it seems right to show you firsthand how we live in Damu."
Garvel nodded with interest. Iris also smiled faintly and said.
"This will be my first time witnessing such a traditional hunting method—I'm looking forward to it."
Dallen and Mau exchanged silent glances, and Dallen quietly added.
"It's been a while since you've wielded a harpoon, Bouma. We'll be watching with anticipation."
Bouma, resolute, locked the shop door.
"Alright, if everyone's ready, let's head out slowly. I'll show you a proper Dawi harpoon hunt."
They stepped out of the shop together. The crimson sunset bathed the river in its glow.