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Chapter six

Azcendia:

The Lore

Part 5

Discover the beginning of The Lore, of Elias Rose Boutique

The Lore

Part 1

What will happen next in The Lore, of Elias Rose Boutique?

AZCENDIA

A Place to Notice

From the personal journal of Elias Rose

The Boutique was calm today.

Not quiet, exactly—but steady. The kind of day where the light filters in just right, and the air smells like a mix of rosewater and warm dust. The kind of day where time feels like it moves a little slower, and you finally remember to look around.

I sat by the counter this morning with my tea, watching the sun stretch across the floor tiles. I didn’t have anything urgent to do—no orders to rush, no restocks to stress over. So I pulled out my journal. You.

Azcendia.

I think I just needed to write.

No real reason. Just… to remember.

Dear Azcendia,

You’re helping me slow down.

Helping me notice. Helping me catch the parts of the day that try to slip away before I can hold them.

And maybe—just maybe—you’re not only mine.

Maybe someone’s reading this. Right now.

Maybe they wandered in without knowing how.

Maybe they’re waiting for a sign.

If you’re here…

If you’re holding these words in your eyes and wondering if you belong—

You do.

There’s room for you in these pages.

You don’t have to be loud or perfect or polished.

You just have to be honest.

Write me a secret.

Send a poem.

Draw something you thought wasn’t good enough.

Say the thing you’ve never said out loud.

Azcendia is open.

And I’m still here.

Waiting.

With love,

Elias Rose

This morning started like most.

I made tea. Watered the cactus by the front door. Brewed some Lumora coffee and cracked the front window just enough to let the breeze carry the scent through the shop. The Boutique felt calm again, but not still. Like something was waiting.

I cleaned the counter with the lemon spray Vera hates because it makes her sneeze. I wiped down the mirror wall.

And that’s when I saw it.

A note.

Not taped up, not on display. Folded small—tucked behind a photo print near the edge of the mirror wall. It would’ve been easy to miss. Someone meant for me to find it, but not right away.

I unfolded it gently. The paper was warm from the sunlight.

Hi Elias.

I read your journal.

I didn’t mean to at first. I was just curious.

But now I can’t stop thinking about the way you notice things.

It made me want to notice too.

Thank you.

No name. No drawing. Just that.

I sat down with it in my hand for a while.

Didn’t cry. Didn’t rush to write back.

Just sat there.

Something about that note made the day feel different.

Softer. Brighter. Realer.

What I noticed today:

— The same teen came back. They didn’t say anything, just returned the sketchbook—now full—and picked up another from the corner basket. They smiled. That was enough.

— Vera made new shelf tags for the Forbidden Shelf: “Poetry for When You Can’t Speak” and “Truths That Sound Like Jokes.” I think she’s in a good mood.

— Someone added a handmade sticker to the mirror: a tiny bear with wings and a rhinestone crown. It’s already my favorite thing.

— I started a new nail set design. All soft colors and gentle shapes. I think I’ll call it “Quiet Response.”

Dear Azcendia,

I always thought I was writing just for me.

Maybe to remember things.

But now I know someone’s reading.

Not in a big, dramatic way. Not to perform.

Just… because it matters to them too.

That’s all I could hope for.

If you’re the one who left the note—thank you. You made today feel like more than just today.

And if someone else is reading this now… maybe wondering if it’s okay to join in…

It is.