Happy WBW! What is the gossip in your world like, surrounding the events and characters of your WIP? What are people saying? What are people not saying?
Well, hello once again, dear traveller. Tis lovely to see you here again indeed. And since you are back for more world-building lore, then how can we not indulge you ever more~? ;)
🫖 Worldbuilding Wednesday | Gossip in Zumar
In Zumar, nothing stays secret for long—not pregnancies, not pomegranate prices, and certainly not the peculiar goings-on at the corner tea shop.
Leila She’s the centre of the swirl. “Madame Zahra’s protégé,” they say, but everyone knows the girl comes from the old Shayra line. Her mother vanished without a trace. Her grandmother was the trace. Her aunt Haifa’s always off in the hills, chasing wind and leaves. So when the kettle sings by itself and the tea tastes like memories you forgot you had, everyone just nods and pretends not to notice.
Except Leila’s isn't the only one tongues wag over.
Nesma, with her skirts too loud and her laughter louder. “That girl’s nose is sharper than her tongue,” they mutter—half in admiration, half in fear. She knows everything, often before it happens. If she’s walking by with a basket of lemons and a smirk, someone’s about to have a very bad day. Or a very interesting one.
Warsame, the baker with hands like poetry and a heart full of sugar. No one kneads dough quite like he does—or listens the way he does, quietly, patiently, like every story is a secret ingredient. Some say his cakes can fix a broken heart. Others swear his honeyed rolls are cursed—because once you’ve had one, no one else’s will do. Still, he’s a mystery. Never says much. But if he ever does speak up, you’d better listen.
Ka’ele is the new wild card. Too charming, too casual, and far too curious about things that shouldn’t concern him. Some think he’s a drifter. Others suspect he’s something more, especially since he started fixing things around the tea shop unasked. And who gave him permission to flirt with our Shayra, hmm?
Madame Zahra, meanwhile, plays the fool—eyes twinkling, always two steps ahead. The enigmatic former apprentice of Leila's grandmother is more legend than presence. Blind as a bat yet with the sharpest inner eye any seer has ever had. She appears only briefly, just long enough to pass a key, maybe a warning, never quite a blessing. The townsfolk whisper about her as though she still lingers in the rafters, but she’s long gone, leaving behind puzzles in porcelain and a silence that echoes through her ink. Whether she vanished, retreated, or planned this all along, no one can say. But the fact remains: she left the shop—and its secrets—in Leila’s hands, ready or not.
And the gossip doesn’t stop there.
Kareema, the jewel merchant with henna-stained hands and eyes sharp as broken glass, is starting to stir whispers around herself. She’s been seen entering guild halls more often than her own shop, and the Merchant Guild has taken notice. Some say she’s brokering a deal that could shift the town’s balance of power. Others think she’s shielding a certain young Shayra in quiet ways, ways only someone with deep connections and deeper pockets could manage.
And as for the guilds, well then. There’s something brewing there as well. The Merchant Guild is restless, especially now that the tea shop’s influence is returning. The Apothecaries’ Circle is suddenly interested in “non-traditional remedies,” and there’s even talk that someone’s trying to revive the old Night Market, though no one’s naming names.
As for the townsfolk? They simply watch. They sip their tea. They whisper to one another that something is changing in Zumar. That something old and powerful seems to be waking up. But no one wants to say it too loud. Not just yet, you see.
For the magic is shifting. And the tea leaves are restless. While Zumar is shifting, and underneath everyone's very own feet.
And someone—perhaps Leila, perhaps all of them—is going to have to answer when it calls.
