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It’s just too easy.
‘And THIS,’ Dori trills, ‘Is a Desert Survival Kit! Absolutely ESSENTIAL for making it through the Scarlet Sands. Why, each and every one I’ve ever sold, I’ve never seen again. That’s a 100% satisfaction rate!’ Technically speaking. It’s entirely possible those to whom she sold the kits found their demise in the wastes, but – not likely!
A poor merchant is one who kills her clientele.
‘I-it’s that effective?’ Furina replies, scratching the back of their neck. They are already weighed down with a bag of goods Dori has talked them into buying – perfumes; fruits; unremarkable book series and a few cosmetics. They aren’t a very discerning customer, and Dori is interested to see just how much they can be pushed to buy. ‘Well, I wasn’t planning on visiting the desert…’
Dori shakes her head, throwing her hands out on either side of her body. ‘My friend, no one in Sumeru TRIES to go to the desert! Except for those fools from the Akademiya. Unless you hire a guide, it’s unfortunately very possible that you’ll make a wrong turn and end up surrounded by sand dunes. If you want to risk it, that’s your prerogative… Hrm. I thought you looked smart, but…’
Furina’s eyes flash, and the teardrops of their pupils grow sharp with intent. ‘Of course I am! I’ll take one!’
‘Oh! Excellent choice, my friend; excellent choice!’
It was beginning to look like an unremarkable week, here in Port Ormos. Dori was this close to calling over her assistants, telling them to begin packing it all in and readying the Sumpter Beasts for travel.
Sumeru meets winter with a kind of vague displeasure. They are past the Sabzeruz Festival, now celebrated alongside the Dendro Archon Herself, and into that time when families – tied together by blood or academics – huddle close to their fires. Soon, she needs to begin thinking about greeting her contacts in Liyue and preparing for their celebration of Lantern Rite.
Yes. She was all ready to turn her eyes to that new challenge, but it seems the universe remembered it was her birthday.
‘Now who was this person you were telling me about? “Mon-sure Neuvillette”?’ Dori encourages, passing over a copy of the bill of sale. Furina looks at her, as if surprised that Dori was listening to them at all.
‘He’s a… person I know,’ they answer, shrinking when Dori raises her brows. ‘He’s– a friend! I need to send him a letter soon.’
Dori gestures them to join her as she walks over to a display of souvenirs. ‘Hmm-hmm! I see. You’re from Fontaine, aren’t you? Isn’t it almost time for the winter holidays?’
Furina glances over the various goods and sundry, not lingering on any particular one. They seem, by nature, to be very indecisive… but easily swayed! ‘Well, yes…’
‘So, how about this? This is a hardbound copy featuring stories by Sumeru’s most popular author, Tanger! Inside are his ten best stories – and if you act now, we’ll throw in a free Aranara toy from Acara Furnishings, free. Of. Charge!’
Reaching out to touch the book’s brown cover, Furina demurs. ‘He’s… I don’t know. Neuvillette is too busy to read, especially now…’ Their mouth draws down at the corners, but ‘tis nothing to fear. Dori has fought harder battles.
‘Oh, is that so? He sounds like all the adults described in these tales – the very kind who needs this book most, actually.’ With Furina’s gaze finding hers, Dori crosses her arms, continues: ‘You must have heard of the Aranara by now, haven’t you? Yes, yes! Common knowledge says that they’re children’s imaginary friends, and once you start dreaming, you’ll never see them again… since you’re an adult. But let me tell you a secret – come here.’
Furina leans in. Dori stands on her tip-toes, cupping her hands around her mouth. She whispers, ‘Aranara never appear to people who don’t have trust in their hearts.’ She falls back on her soles, trying not to grin at the mystified wonder on Furina’s face. It is both pensive and curious: the perfect combination on an eager client.
‘… I am a bit worried,’ Furina confesses quietly. They reach out to open the book, and Dori lets them. The soft pages fall into each other, whispering like the wind. ‘I left him to take on a huge burden, mostly because I thought… no. I wasn’t thinking. I was just so tired, and I couldn’t take it any more. But now that I look back, I can see that… me being gone isn’t “helping” him like I expected. It’s probably made it so much harder.’
And ah. Of course. This is another way that Dori bonds with her customers: the time-honoured tradition of expelling regrets. Whether they be from Mondstadt, Natlan, or Fontaine, every person in Teyvat has the same relationship to their friendly merchant. They all end up spilling their secrets, treating the one taking their Mora like a deacon or a priest.
This is how Dori makes a sizeable chunk of her Mora. The Qixing pay hand-over-fist for the treasures she knows… and for these smaller, unsellable things, like what Furina’s handed to her – Dori keeps it all close to her chest.
Until the right person shows up for the right price, at least.
‘Mhm. What I’m hearing,’ Dori says, ‘is that you care for this “Mon-sure” very much, and you’re – pardon the assumption, my friend – you’re worried he’s going to hurt himself. You’re also worried he’s going to forget you. Is that right? Oh, DO tell Dori if she’s off the mark!’
‘No,’ Furina answers. ‘That’s exactly it.’
‘Then.’ Dori closes the novel, smacking the cover twice. ‘Don’t you think this would be a great reminder of your bond? And a little reminder to our “Mon-sure” to take it easy. To remember the joy of being a kid again!’
Furina smiles oddly, but they nod.
‘How much?’
Now that’s the sound of joy!
‘For you, my dearest friend, only seven million–’