Theanore and Marinus were working hard cutting cookie dough with glasses for the cookies for the fair. There was only one day left. Their worker elves were also making many sweets for the fair.

The forest of fireflies’ guardians were introduced to the worker elves and even to Theanore’s Eelaconda. It was nice that now the children didn’t need to hide.

The guardians were running back and forth with bags of packaged sweets that would sell for a single silver coin per package. They had a preprinted drawing made by Theanore and Marinus of them both making cookies.

Because the word got out that the author of the book herself was making sweets for the fair, many preordered a box. So far, they had 200 boxes made, of which 146 were already sold.

“What if they don’t like our cookies, Mari?” Asked Theanore as she cut the dough. Crassus was knitting more to the side. Marinus brushed a stray hair from his face and grinned.

“These are the super-duper delicious vanilla cookies of Thea the nymph. With your recipe. They will be fools not to like them.”

“And we can make more even after the fair if they do like them. This is a relaxing activity for the whole family,” said Crassus, smiling. The kids filled one baking tin and Marinus placed it in the oven.

He then went to the second oven and checked the lemon cakes inside. They looked rosy and smelled very nice. He decided to take them out. With his lightness and fire enchanted mittens, both level 1000 on the scale, he got the lemon cakes to the cooling area.

“Thea, we need more boxes for the cakes. Tell the ants to hurry,” he called, and then Theanore placed down the glass with which she cut the cookies and cleared her throat.

“Ants, line up!” An ant answered her call and she placed an empty box next to her.

“We require more of these. About 100 more. For lemon cakes. Make them bigger,” she finished, and the ant scurried off to where they were making boxes out of wood.

The way the ants made boxes was simple. They first sliced a tree into smaller sections and then ate the tree chunks into box-shaped items. They had to then transport the rest of the wood chunks for kindling.

“Do you think we will be able to enjoy the fair too? I mean, Larriel and Lena said we can, but who is going to sell the discounted items?” Asked Theanore, worrying her lower lip.

“If they said it, then it will happen,” said Crassus. He already had a plan to man the stall and let the children enjoy the fair to the fullest.

Meanwhile, the forest of fireflies’ guardians were doing a delivery. They unloaded the last fifty boxes they had on them in the inn’s storeroom, and they sat down to take a break.

“Man, how many more can they make for a single day?” Asked Brandon, after which he drank from his water skin.

“Young man, what is in these boxes?” Asked the elderly puppeteer. His wife was close behind him.

“Sweets for the fair, Sir. The author and her family make them,” answered Brandon.

“And we sit idly by? For shame. We must help. Everyone, to the bakery!” Said the elderly woman and all the performers followed her out to the town’s bakery. Brandon groaned. He could sense he would need to deliver more sweets to the inn soon.

Candy canes were made and gingerbread men and hard candy and all kinds of Yule sweets. The nimble elves made 500 boxes by the end of the day. By the end, grandpa Thinker went back inside his room at the inn, exhausted.

“Grandma Merriweather, do you think we are doing a good job?” Asked grandpa Thinker the quill, which was also his dungeon’s system.

“You were very humble the entire day. Maybe you will get into the good list yet, old dog,” said grandma Merriweather. This was the best grandpa Thinker has done ever since he chose to become a dungeon in truth.

That had been hard on the man. Devising traps, creating man-eating monsters and plants. Placing his crystal deep into the earth where no one will ever see it. Grandma Merriweather knew that he was trying to change. She just needed to believe in him.

“They still don’t know of the stones of infinity you placed?” Asked the quill.

“No, and it will remain like that. For as long as I am alive, people will be able to enter the forest, but they will be incapable of harming little Theanore or her family,” Said grandpa Thinker, pride slipping into his voice.

“This time, you are right to take pride in your actions,” said the grandmother when she noticed him looking at the ground. “Let us make tomorrow a day the young children would remember.”

“And let us make Yule just as grand this year,” said, grandpa Thinker. “Let there be no bad list for the smaller transgressions. What was I thinking? Punishing people who misbehaved to feed their families?”

“The list is not pointless, my dear,” said the quill. “Murderers and worse should get punished. By us, if not by anyone else. But yes, I think you should become a bit laxer.”

They both sat in rocking chairs and got some milk with cookies for their hard day of work.

“Do you think I can get away with bringing some citizens of Alerion here for the fair?” Asked grandpa Thinker, munching on a cookie.

“You absolutely must give your poor almost slaves a break. And you have to start treating them like actual workers, Albert. Or else you will remain on the bad list. Your actions towards a single person can’t hope to wash away your actions towards those closest to you.”

“I know. I heard little Theanore has made a worker syndicate,” then he chuckled. “She even includes plants and fish in it. I think I have a lot to learn from her. Now pass me another cookie, please.”