The Jolly Dwarf Cares Only for Fashion

The shimmering sea was calm as far as the eye could see. Schools of fish twisted and darted, their silver scales glistening as they disappeared into the distance. Along this vast ocean lay a pier with docks numbered one through ten. A harbor so big, no other nation in this massive continent could rival its size.

This was Ville Zentra, the capital of the maritime nation of Vireocean.

If someone claimed the sea visible from Ville Zentra stayed calm year-round, most would dismiss it as an exaggeration, especially seasoned sailors who knew no ocean was free from storms or danger. But here, that claim would be true. No storm had ever churned the waters enough for high waves to breach the harbor. At least, not in the memory of Ville Zentra’s oldest residents.

The tranquil sea blessed the city with abundance, and the bustling market thrived on its daily trade of marine products. Seafood-processing facilities dotted the city, exporting their products not just to nearby cities but abroad.

Ville Zentra grew and prospered, transforming into a sprawling city. But no matter how large it became, the salty scent of the sea lingered in every corner. For the residents, fish and shellfish dishes were the norm, while meat was a rare delicacy.

Travelers flocked to Ville Zentra for one reason: the bounty of the sea. Giant fish caught by master fishermen, magnificently grown clams, sun-enriched seaweed.

“By the forge!” A person visiting Ville Zentra for the first time gasped in amazement. “This is a marvel. Not once in my years have I seen such a thing.”

His eyes were sparkling, his breaths heavy, but his fiery gaze wasn’t directed at the fish, clams, or seaweed.

“The beauty of these fins!” he exclaimed. “They’re smooth as silk and shimmer like gems, even without magical energy. And these shells—what a delicate shade of pink, like a lady’s nails, and it looks mighty easy to work with!”

“R-Right.” The stall owner was slightly bewildered. “I gotta say, Mister, you’ve got quite the eye. I thought Dwarves only cared about metal and gold.”

“Before beauty, all are equal!”

He was dressed in a shirt adorned with shell-carved buttons and finely tailored trousers like he was going to a ball. His long hair was slicked back with oil and his beard impeccably groomed.

This was Dodorono, a Dwarf so passionate about fashion that he had opened a shop—technically an armory, though it mostly sold dresses—in Pond, a satellite town near the royal capital of Ponsonia. Today, he had crossed cities and national borders to reach Ville Zentra.

“I’m right glad I came. To think I’d find such rare materials here.”

It was no surprise that Ville Zentra yielded an abundance of seafood, but what had caught Dodrono’s ear was the news of rare materials being found in large quantities. While armor-grade items desired by adventurers often reached Ponsonia, fabric-worthy materials rarely made it to market. Seizing the chance, he had rushed to the city and was thoroughly satisfied with his decision.

Scales and shells could be crafted into buttons or belt buckles, while fins and hides made exquisite garments. Apparently, some enormous fish had been caught, and the undamaged portions of its skin alone were enough to craft several jackets. What’s more, the sellers even offered preservation services.

“If you’re this excited, it makes selling worth it,” the stall owner said. “All right, follow me! The market has even rarer stuff waiting for you.”

“Really? Is that okay?”

Entering the market required a certificate proving one was a registered vendor, and naturally, Dodorono, having come from outside the country, didn’t have one.

“Yeah. We can go now if you want.”

“That would be great!”

“What about your, uh… companion? Are they coming along too?”

“Yes.”

Dodorono glanced behind him, at the woman in a hooded cloak pulled low over her face. At dusk, her robe might seem pitch black, but under the midday sun, it revealed a deep indigo hue, reminiscent of the ocean’s darkest depths.

“I suppose I will tag along, if you don’t mind,” she said.

The shopkeeper guessed she must be in her seventies or eighties based on the huskiness of her voice.

“All right, Miss Talis, let’s go together,” Dodorono said, addressing her with respect.

And so, the three made their way into Ville Zentra’s market. Dodorono spent a fortune, buying material after material. Even in Vireocean, fish-skin clothing wasn’t widely available, but here, he secured goods at reasonable prices. He was very satisfied.

---

“Mr. Dodorono.”

“What is it?”

“You seem rather cheerful.”

Even on the carriage ride back to Ponsonia, Dodorono was in high spirits. He had acquired so many materials that they’d booked the entire carriage to transport them.

Truth be told, his shop wasn’t exactly thriving, and this spree meant he’d likely have to live frugally for a while. Clothes made from fish skin weren’t guaranteed to sell, after all. But none of that dulled his enthusiasm.

“Well, of course. I managed to buy such wonderful materials. How could I not be happy?”

“Ah, I see,” Talis chuckled in genuine amusement. “It’s the harvester’s duty to use every last bit of what they’ve taken.”

“That… might be true. Even with such a large amount of rare materials circulating, the people of Ville Zentra waste nothing. It’s truly remarkable. They use not only the fish meat but also the skin, bones, and scales. Nothing is discarded.”

Leftover scraps, he had heard, were finely ground and returned to the sea, nourishing future fish.

“But why the sudden increase in rare materials?” Dodorono wondered. “You’ve been in Ville Zentra a long time, Miss Talis. Any idea why?”

“Well, I’d wager it’s because they’ve started venturing into waters far to the east, seas that were previously inaccessible.”

“Inaccessible? What changed?”

“Who knows? Maybe the time has simply come.”

“I see.”

Her vague response made it clear she didn’t know the details.

“Ah, that’s right. I’m heading back to Pond, but you’re off to the Theocracy of Bios, aren’t ya?”

“Yes,” Talis murmured, running her withered fingers over the back of her hand.

“Are you going on a pilgrimage?” Dodorono asked.

The Theocracy of Bios was the headquarters of the continent-spanning Church, so he assumed her journey was spiritual.

“Pilgrimage?” Talis’s eyes widened. She threw her head back and laughed. “Ahahaha!”

For a moment, Dodorono glimpsed a large earring. It was less of an earring and more like a piece of glass that enveloped the entire ear, resembling the fin of a fish in some way. It was quickly hidden beneath the hood and disappeared from view.

“M-Miss Talis?”

“Oh, my apologies,” she wheezed, catching her breath.

Whatever had amused her so much was beyond Dodorono’s understanding. He realized there was much about the old woman he didn’t know.

She had approached him during his material hunt, and upon learning that he was from inland, she asked to travel together since her destination was Bios. Dodorono was busy with his purchases, but when she offered to wait for him to finish, he couldn’t bring himself to abandon an elderly woman in a foreign place.

He didn’t even know if Talis was her real name. Still, he figured she didn’t have much time left in this world, so he didn’t mind helping out. Her advice on assessing materials and her deep knowledge of the sea had proven invaluable as well.

“I wasn’t laughing at you, so don’t take offense,” she said.

“I wasn’t really offended.”

“Well, let’s just say… my journey to Bios might also be because the time has come.”

Dodorono gave her a quizzical look.

“Ah, I think I will take a nap. It’s so warm, it’s hard to stay awake.”

It was late in the first month of the year, and the wind blowing through the carriage was biting cold, not warm in the slightest. Yet as soon as Talis closed her eyes, she began snoring softly.

She often fell asleep this way. As long as she wasn’t causing trouble, Dodorono didn’t mind.

“Well, no matter,” he muttered to himself. “I’ve got me own plans to think about. Ah, I can feel my hands itching to work!”

His thoughts turned to the garments he would craft from the rare materials, and his spirits soared as the carriage headed for the border.