“My lord,” said the guard before Dashito, “former Archmage Baines and his accomplice have arrived in the city.”
“I see.” Dashito sat deep in thought at the top of his former master’s tower, staring idly out the window. Caine’s death had been jarring, but he had not been surprised. He was going to go sooner than later, he’d thought with resignation, either by his physical ailments or by his mad vendettas.
Though he did not mourn Caine’s passing beyond a passing guilt for not doing so, the death of the Archmage sent shockwaves throughout the kingdom, and he was right at the center. That’s what the apprentice is for: to take over in case something happens to the Archmage himself. He sighed inwardly. Too bad I’m really not prepared for this.
“Shall we… ‘see to him,’ my lord?” the guard asked quietly, a disturbing message underlying his words.
Dashito whipped his head up, looking the guard in the eye. “What…? No! Do not harm him!”
Baffled, the guard protested. “But my lord, he slew your master. Have you no desire to see him fall?”
“Caine brought his death upon himself,” he muttered, “and we’re not going to sink to his level and harm someone we don’t even know is guilty yet.”
“Sir, I must protest.”
“Protest all you want, but as long as Baines is in the city, he has my protection.” He glared the guard in the eye. “Is that understood?”
Stiffening, he nodded. “Yes, Archmage.”
Era felt butterflies in his stomach upon entering Elsequaire. I’m going to be talking to the King! he thought anxiously. Gabriel and he were taken directly to the castle, escorted to the front gates by the guards, and greeted by a page.
“Good day, sirs,” he said politely, bowing formally. “I am to accompany you both to the royal tailor. You must look your best before appearing before His Majesty the King.”
“Of course,” Era said, nodding.
“Man, this whole country just seems to hate my clothes,” Gabriel muttered jokingly.
They followed the page to a room filled with shelves and stands of leather and cloth of all colors and textures. The tailor stood tall and proud before them, waving the page out of the room. “Good day, lord Baines,” the tailor said politely, standing as straight and tall as he could. Though he spoke fondly, his voice and expression were stiff with what could only be fear. “I never expected to see you again, you were absent so long.”
“Please, relax,” Era requested. “It is truly good to see you once again.”
His tension faded visibly, though he retained most of his formal dignity. “I am pleased to hear it. And this gentleman is…?”
“Gabriel Dalgard,” Gabriel said, extending a hand to shake.
The tailor looked at him uncertainly, slowly reaching out and shaking his hand once quickly. He then pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his offending hand in what he hoped was a subtle manner, earning a scowl from Gabriel. “Let’s get started with the measurements, shall we?”
For the next quarter-hour, he took the measurements of the two mages with a piece of string with evenly-placed knots running along it, scribbling down notes on a sheet of parchment. Era and Gabriel then waited patiently as he rifled through a large closet of robes.
“If we had the time, I would make you each robes to fit your exact measurements,” the tailor explained, “but we are obviously in a bit of a rush today. Lord Baines, I believe you’ll fit just fine into one of your older robes, though it may be a little loose; you’ve lost weight since you left.”
Era chuckled. “I don’t find that hard to believe.”
“It’s a bit alarming,” he said with concern. “You hardly have weight to lose.”
“Things have been… difficult.”
“So I imagine.”
“Don’t worry,” Gabriel joked, “I’ve been trying to fatten him up.”
“That’s good news.” He looked Gabriel over. “I believe I have some garments that should fit you just fine. If you’ll both wait right here…” He excused himself, running out of the room and into an even larger supply room nearby. A few minutes later, he returned with two baskets.
“For you, milord,” he said, putting a basket at Era’s feet. Era peered into it, seeing an outfit of white silk and gold satin. That would get terribly dirty on my walk, he thought off-handedly.
“I assume you remember where the changing room is, sir?”
“Yes, thank you,” he said, leaving just as Gabriel pulled a stunning gold-and-orange robe with red accents out of his basket and grinned broadly.
He walked into a spacious changing room, stripping off his several-day-old, hand-me-down garments and carefully picking up the white silk robe. It was trimmed in the same gold cloth that made up the collared mantle and cut exactly to his figure. Undoing the clasps on the front, he threw it on over his head, following it with a brilliant royal blue shawl that was also trimmed in gold. He pulled on a pair of royal blue stockings followed by suede brown boots, finishing with the golden cloak.
He admired his appearance in the mirror. My hair is still undone, he thought, but I really look like… like me. Like the old me. He picked up the robes he was wearing and carefully placed them in the basket. Yet something tells me I’ll always feel more comfortable in those old, scratchy robes.
He continued to drink in his new appearance, lingering on his still-white eyes. They used to be violet-blue, just like Caine’s doppelganger had. He recalled the moment Death pulled out the pages of his book; he had screamed for him to stop. That was when they changed, he thought. They became blank as my mind did. They have a spiritual scar.
Despite being fully dressed, he still felt as if something was missing from him. Snapping his fingers, he dug into his satchel, pulling out his sigil and clipping it to the front of his cloak. Now I feel truly complete, he thought. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not.
Stepping back out of the changing room, he heard Gabriel in the room nearby cursing quietly as he struggled with his robes. Chuckling, Era continued to the tailor, handing him the basket of old clothes.
“Please keep these in a safe place,” he requested. “They have a lot of sentimental value.”
The tailor looked genuinely surprised. “I didn’t know you placed sentimental value on… well, anything, sir.”
“Like I said before,” he said distantly, “a lot has changed. More than even I can believe.”
Several minutes later, Gabriel finally exited the changing room. “How the hell do you get these on every single day?” he asked gruffly. “Thing’s a fucking pain.”
Era chuckled lightly. “You get used to it.”
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