Inktobertale 2022 : Compilation of novels

23rd of October : Varnish

The door of the carpentry shop opened, making the little golden bell next to it jingle. The artisan who owned this place, a small koala-like monster with a long swirly tail named Sawyer, turned away from his workshop, and watched as the familiar skeleton walked over to the counter and slammed the ridiculously large brush he was wearing on it. "Ink ! My, has it already been 6 months ?" asked Sawyer as he readjusted his large cloudy glasses.

"Unfortunately it hasn't !" replied Ink with a smile, "I just got out of a big fight, and both my pal here and me would greatly benefit a bit of rest and healing.

Indeed, Broomie wasn't in the best of shapes multiple holes were carved in it, with splinters piercing out. The wood was also very damaged in general, by humidity it would seem, and was burnt at one of its ends. "Ah yes, I see so." said the carpenter.

Ink smiled again and sighed, as he cracked his bones. "Well, I'll be leaving him to you for 6 hours, as usual. In the meantime, I'll go to this new relaxation center I saw on the way here." He walked over to the door, opened it and walked out the store, but stopped when his arm didn't let go of the handle, and rather decided to break in two, leaving one half hanging on the door. "Actually, maybe I'll go to an hospital first..." whispered Ink as he picked up the rest of his limb and closed the door behind him.

With a smile, Sawyer laid Broomie onto his workshop, and got to work. It had been a few years, maybe even decades since he had first met that Ink fellow. This young, cheerful person had arrived to him, saying he was looking for someone with enough skill to keep a very important object in good condition. Curious of such a challenge, Sawyer had accepted. He still remembered how amazed he was the first time he had seen Broomie. A tool made of the finest wood to be, a masterpiece of skill and craft. 

The first time, it had taken him two entire weeks of work, without taking any other command, to finally find a way to reproduce wood of a similar quality, and master the skills necessary to restore the wonderful work. If they did not concern carpentry however, Sawyer was not curious about things. That was why he never questioned the  origin of this brush, or what kind of battles Ink got in where this brush was required. He preferred to simply enjoy the luck he had, to be the one chosen to take care of it. Even though a tool like this could remain in shape for years, Ink would come back to see Sawyer every 6 months, saying that Broomie "enjoyed" these sessions, and the monster wouldn't disagree.

Finally, after hours of good work, and the return of Ink, all patched-up and energetic, the carpenter took a large can from behind the counter, dipped a small, long brush into it, and started spreading it into a very thin layer over Broomie.

"What is that ?" asked Ink. 

"Oh, it's simply varnish. A transparent, solid substance that preserves wood from the damage of time and humidity."

Ink looked at a spot where a small amount of varnish had been spilled, where it had solidified into a small glassy blob, over which light reflected. "It reflects, too ?"

"Well, yes, but only in large quantities, so I'm afraid it'll take more than that to transform Broomie into a prism..."

"But... could it be used for painting ?" asked Ink.

Sawyer had a pensive pause. "...I guess so."

"Oh, well then, could I borrow a can or two from you ? I'll pay extra !" asked Ink with an excited face.

"Uh... I mean... if you'd like to." confusedly replied the carpenter.