Chapter Four: A Tour of the City

'Twas morn of the third day in the seventh month of treecycle 1175, as Donovan Dashraft strolled through the streets of Donovan's Haven. His aptly named capital city, which sat at the center of a much larger governance known as Donneystone Parish. Both, city and Parish, had been founded five years ago, as a result of Donovan's efforts to not only explore the continent of Mintara, but to also bring together its people in an exchange of ideas, beliefs, and of mutual understanding with one another. The idea, that started simply with one marten's dream, then quickly grew to something more grand, as word spread to others across the continent. A hub of trade, economic prosperity, and of social inclusion, whose existence would not only intrigue the great races of the Groundhogs who lived beneath the Bristlespine Mountains to the east. But so as well, did it intrigue members of the Otter race who lived in Solmani Marsh to the West. And to the south, the Monitors of Aguanada Desert. They, who up until now, had only left their unforgiving desert world, for the purpose of trading salt for metal weapons and armor with the Agatan Disciplist Groundhogs of Bristlespine. So truly, to see reptilians residing in this inclusive city, that was so far north of their desert home?

It was a strange sight. A sight Donovan was glad his people had quickly gotten accustomed to, as he passed by a fruit vendor stall, where a Groundhog and an Otter were standing side by side, bartering prices with a frilled Lizard who was doing her best to promote a succulent basket of rougeberries. Berries that were relatives of the strawberries and raspberries; except a little tangier, at three silvers a pound.

Hmm. "Three silvers a pound?"

Donovan pondered this. The equivalent of thirty cents a pound didn't sound all that awful. He might come back and look into that later. Right now, though, he had other business to attend to, as the bickering over rougeberries reminded him he had a stop to make before he got back to Donneystone Keep. A concentric castle whose smooth, white walls, were capped off by six cylindrical towers with shapely domes. A massive statement to beauty and architectural grace with no equal; at least in the region, this home stay of Donovan Dashraft was only made more beautiful by the fact that it had as a backdrop the magnificent Bristlespine mountains. Their smoky peaks rising in the distance, as if they were the most revered and ancient of all the world's masters. It was a sight Donovan enjoyed beholding whenever he returned to his home stay after a morning constitutional. Nothing felt better after all, to return back to his Keep, his home, and those beautiful smoky mountains in sight. A cocoa cig in hand...

Donovan paused. The cocoa cigs.

"Gah!" he exclaimed, shaking his head in frustration. The marten, once realizing he'd gotten so caught up in his thoughts and had walked right past the sweet shop where he needed to pick up the order that he'd put in about a week ago, turned around and headed straight back. The little bell above the door ringing with a quiet ting-ling, as the marten pushed it open.

"Rubi?" Donovan called quietly as he stepped inside, seeing no one behind the display case or anywhere in the shop. "Rubidia?" he called, a little louder, using the store owner's full name. The marten in calling out for a second time, heard what sounded like a clatter of crashing trays and utensils out of the back room before a groundhog with small, chestnut-colored eyes poked her head around the doorframe.

"Mr. D?" inquired the stocky groundhog known as Rubidia with an accent similar to Norwegian or Scandinavian, as she padded into the room. "Oh, Mother of my race, forgive me sir. I did not hear you enter. It's always so pleasant to see you. What can I do for you today?"

Donovan smiled, and raised a finger. "One order of Cocoa Cigs, if you please Rubi," he replied. "I believe I ordered them special like always, sometime last week?"

Rubidia reciprocated Donovan's smile. "Ahh!" she exclaimed. "Yes sir, indeed you did. I was actually hoping you would stop by and pick these up. Yes...where did I put those..." Rubidia turned to a line of shelves behind her, where she kept all of her reserve orders, looking for something specific. "Let's see..." she murmured. "Divepool, Doler...ah. Here it is. Dashraft. One order of Cocoa cigs, imported from Gracebrooke, handmade by Kirin Confectioners. These are the ones, yes?"

Donovan licked his lips. "Oh, yes." he replied. "Those are the ones. I believe the price is...3 platinum and 3 gold Min?"

Rubidia examined the price tag. "3 platinum and 3gold...yes, that's correct," she said, taking the box off the shelf. "You have the coin?"

Donovan nodded. "Right here," he said as he exchanged the coin for the chocolates. An equivalent in pre-Mintaran currency of three hundred and thirty dollars which Donovan was more than happy to pay, if it meant getting his hands on a box of these premier chocolates. The marten, after taking the box, then opened the lid which had the company's logo of a dragon like creature with a flaming mane, the tail of an ox, and antlers of a deer, embossed on its surface. The kirin. A creature from Pre-Mintaran Mythology, which Searcey, the daughter of his close friend Colin had once told him, was believed in ancient times to be a symbol of power, regality, and in some ways, was revered.

Donovan chuckled.

Mmm...How perfect, he thought, that he'd be able to have these while celebrating everything he achieved. That he, a marten who people revered for bringing them closer together and for showing them ways in which they were similar and how that was a strength which could be used towards the end of progressing their economies and their own national strengths as well as a healthy evolution of knowing who they were as a people and how they could fit into a united ecosystem of working with their fellow Mintarans. Of moving towards an identity of one unified Mintaran people, while maintaining their own unique cultural identities...

The marten smirked. He took one of these premier chocolates of which he thought he was so deserving, and bit on the end allowing for a Rougeberry jelly to flow into his mouth. The marten, as the jelly flowed onto his tongue, slowly swallowed it, savoring every sweet yet tangy ounce. The chocolate itself, meanwhile, remained balanced between his lips, while he held the far end gently with two fingers, giving the false appearance of a cigar to any passersby. An inside joke, for Donovan. As he himself would never use such things. He simply enjoyed that he could pass off a socially dignified look, while having a sweet chocolate treat at the same time.

Donovan finished his first cig and nodded appreciatively at Rubidia. "Thank you, my dear." he stated genially. "I suppose I will see you at the ceremonies?"

Rubidia nodded. "Oh yes," she replied. "I mean, of course. Why wouldn't I be there? It's all there is to talk about, isn't it? You going from a mission of exploration and cultural exchange, to five years later here we are, in this beautiful region known as Donneystone Parish. A place where we can live with those who we once would've called rivals. Where we can exchange culture and ideas, without fear of persecution or prejudice. Yes, I'll be there. I just have orders to fill this morning. Busy, busy day you know! I mean...not that I'm not grateful for it. Mother mine, when I first came here, I wondered if any of the promises were true. Could I really set up shop here, and be accepted without prejudice, I remember thinking to meself."

"And?"

"Heh. And, I was surprised to learn, that while some people were wary the first few days, others who were fully embracing of your policies, acted with great gusto, as the encouraging force. And within a few days, I had not only my first customers, but I had otters and Agata's disciplist groundhogs, coming in, giving me good reviews, spreading word, and becoming my first repeat customers. So yes, let me be one of the first to say, what a wonderful thing I think it is you have going here, Donovan. I honestly don't see any rhyme or reason, why anyone would want to mess with it."

Donovan chuckled as he left the shop. "I don't see why anyone would want to mess with today either," he murmured. The marten, in high spirits as he headed back to the keep, was well on his way before he suddenly heard someone call his name.

"Donovan! Donovan!"