Page 10 of Shadows in Bloom

I furrowed my brow in question, but followed him inside all the same, a bell chiming as we entered. The scent of overpowering citrus and vanilla flooded my senses the moment we passed the threshold. Leathers, cottons, and brocade in an array of colors stuffed several shelves. Others held wooden bowls of buttons, buckles, pins, and sewing tools. Mannequins were shoved into any unoccupied space, pinned with half done garments. Mirrors and various hung fabrics cluttered any remaining wall space.

A lively voice called out to us from behind or below the counter. Somewhere. “Welcome in! I’ll be right over there. Just give me, ah, a few minutes!”

“Um...” I turned to Alandris. “When you said items, you meant…?”

“You need something you can move around in freely while we train.” His eyes wandered over my dress, and I cringed.

My dress wasn’t much better than my cloak. It’d started out beautiful enough for a simple linen garment. Walnut brown, with basic embroidery around the neckline and sleeves. Kallistrahad purchased it and one other for me in Korghrum for quite the hefty sum, considering I was a fair foot and a half taller than the average dwarf. It’d lasted me well, but that was over a year ago. Now, it was threadbare and worn from travel, and it definitely had not been designed with combat in mind.

“I don’t have the coin,” I explained. I could alter my dress myself. Remove some length or add a slit so that I could move better.

“It’s part of your payment.” He began to sift through the fabrics. “I cannot outfit you like a true Consortium Mage, but you will need the bare minimum. Linen shirt and trousers, leather boots. Should you wish to torture yourself with a corset or under bust, that should be leather, too. Same as your companion wears. The cloak is another manner. You’re swimming in it. You need to be able to dodge. Lunge. We may not commonly use blades in the sense you’re familiar with, but the concept is the same with magic.”

My head was the thing that was swimming. “That is... a lot.”

Alandris stopped to look at me, confusion etched in his features. “How have you managed in your travels thus far? Lustria’s roads are much safer since the treaties, but surely you’ve needed to defend yourself or step off the beaten path?” He brought a finger to trace along his bottom lip. “What I mean to say is you’re dressed more like a lady of the court than a traveler. You’re not secretly royalty, right? That would complicate things.”

I choked on my spit. “No! No.” I waved my hands in front of me. “Kalli has always defended the two of us. I haven’t needed to dress for combat, until this job, I suppose.” I was never given the option, was what I didn’t say.

He smiled, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. “It was a joke, Nairu.”

A head of curly black hair popped up between us, startling me enough that I stumbled backward, barely catching myself against a table.

“Miriam, at your service. How may I assist the two of you?” the woman asked, her umber eyes sparkling eagerly.

Alandris handed her a slip of paper from his breast pocket. “These items, please. Preferably what you have already made and can adjust. We have limited time. Nairu can tell you her preference for colors.”

“Anything is fine, really,” I quickly mumbled.

Miriam circled around me, poking and prodding at my clothes. She stopped in front of me, peering up into my eyes. The sight didn’t appear to startle her. “You are a scrawny thing. I’ll need to alter just about anything I have made.”

I winced. “Sorry.”

“Red cloth. Green cloth. Black leather. Brown leather. One of each. Those are your colors.” She continued to twirl around me methodically. I wasn’t sure she’d even heard me speak, or cared. She looked at me like an object, not in a bad way, per se, but as though she saw me as a series of numbers, not a living person. “You can pick them up tomorrow morning.” Shelooked at Alandris. “The Consortium owes me a favor for this rush job. Now, Nairu, I need your measurements. Follow me.”

The measurement process was so awkward I found myself silently wishing it would end over and over in my head. Miriam was gentle enough, but incredibly thorough. She’d had me strip down to my undergarments and was buzzing around me like a bee, measuring from collarbone to shoulder, shoulder to elbow, elbow to wrist, wrist to fingertips. After writing down what had to be fifty different measurements, she allowed me to dress and released me back to Alandris.

“Thank you,” I said, exiting the shop behind him. “If there’s a way, I will pay you back for the clothes.”

“It’s fine, really.” He smiled. “Only the best for my new apprentice! Just don’t tell anyone I said that. Consortium Mages aren’t permitted to take on apprentices until they achieve the title of Arch Magus.”

I hadn’t the faintest clue what he was talking about, but I nodded along all the same. Alandris struck me as an endlessly positive person. I didn’t think he possessed a mean bone in his body, nor the ability to anger. He was... good. Pleasant and comforting to be around. I imagined he would be a kind and patient teacher. I hoped, anyway. He could be a menace, I supposed, luring me into a false sense of security, before he struck. Equipping me with the best gear to ease his guilt before forcing me into ruthless drills day in and day out.

“Have I lost you to your thoughts?” Alandris grabbed my shoulder, gently steering me to the right. “You’ve nearly run into a wall.”

“No.”Yes.

“Right.” He huffed a laugh. “We have one more stop to make. We may be magically inclined, but some things are better left to a blade. It’s important to know when to utilize spell or steel.”

“You’re giving me a sword?”

He looked at me like I was insane. “A dagger. I promised your companion I’d protect you. I don’t think letting you chop off your own toes will please her.”

Of course he had. No wonder Kallistra had not put up a fight about Alandris and me leaving for errands alone this morning. She’d likely already threatened him with a creative death should anything happen to me.

The atmosphere of the smithy was in stark contrast to the tailor’s shop. Everything was pristine, with its own perfectly set place on the wall. Dusted. Polished. Shined. If not for the smell of oil and soot, or the heat from the forge, one might believe it to be a gallery rather than a workshop. An Elven male manned the forge, not turning to look at us until he’d completed his hammering. His eyes locked onto Alandris at once and lit up with curiosity.

“I never thought I’d see Alandris Vi’Elissar walk through my doors again.” He stood from his spot, rubbing his oil-coated hands on his pants before turning to me. “Sev. Pleasure to meet you.”

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