Sarin was the fourth son of his family. He had three bigger brothers, two younger brothers, and an older sister, the firstborn, who became the head of the family after the death of their father. His family had been tailors from generations now, based in Gargenta*, and once he was older, he decided to set up his shop in a little village, out of the mundane shores of the big city. He did not like the city at all. It was loud, smelly, and always hot. Turn, instead, was so nice. He really loathed going back to his birthplace, but his mother had fallen and broke a leg, so he couldn’t exactly excuse himself from visiting.

He loathed leaving his shop. Cotton and wool were his best friends. He had wool in abundance, thanks to a partnership with the Barnsey farm which preferred to sell him and get back clothes for the winter. Cotton, sadly, was a rare commodity and he had to buy it from traveling merchants. Fortunately, there was one of them who always made the same trip, so he could at least be sure to have a modicum of the material when starting a new project for lighter clothings. He didn’t like staying still, and experimenting with tissue was something that made him feel… whole. Plus, his shop was near the one of the cute cart-maker Gino (not that he ever said anything about it, no sir, he liked to play his card very close to his chest) and the calmness of the small village, except market hours, was a boon for his work. Well, until the damnable blacksmith decided to come in his street, but at least, it was just one of them. The smell of coal nauseated him, even after so many years away, so he had decided to don a red handkerchief tied to his face. This didn’t agree that well with the guard that stopped him when he arrived at the city’s iron walls, and he was questioned for long about his possible involvement with a series of thefts and acts of banditry that took place in the neighboring villages and cities.

He was tired, very tired, when he finally got to his family’s home. It was almost twilight. He did not like to be out in this city at night, since the sky would colour itself the red of the uncountable furnaces littering its streets, and then slowly be covered in a thick cover of smoke and ashes. Night was darker here. That was why his parents always told all of them not to go out after twilight, to never use back alleys, and to be constantly alert if they found themselves on the streets after the light of the big sun disappeared.

He had always been a good lad. Never disobeyed his parents, at least until his father was still alive. Having her sister take the lead of the family, out of the hands of his overbearing brothers… Still, he was really glad they probably would not be here, since they all landed jobs at noble manors, and the manor became one of the major suppliers of sacred vestments for Numens clerics. It would need much more than a broken bone to make them come back. He felt they should, since everything they were was built on the back of their ancestors, and mostly of their sister Karin who brought the good name of the Woolrich family to fame. And changed all of their diapers when their mother was too busy working at the shop or on some commission needed to keep the shop afloat, in the worst periods.

He felt a bit stuck, now that he was at the front door. He did not come to visit often. He… he actually did not visit since her sister had her second daughter. She wrote to him that she had a son, now, too. That was more than twenty moons ago, now. He did not know what to do. THis had been his home. Should he knock? Should he just let himself in and say hello? Should he…

The door opened, taking the choice away from him. Her sister seemed not to have aged a single day since he last saw her. She was as uncannily pretty as he remembered. A slightly plump face. Two eyes the color of freshly pressed grapes. Long hair, brunette, tied in a no-nonsense braid. Her dress, a bishop sleeved long one, sapphire blue with purplish undertones, seemed plain until the light hit it just right and you noticed the complicated embroidery that traced runes and charms over all of it, rendering it, in practice, heavy armor. He never knew why her sister was so adamant to always have one of these dresses on. She was a tailor, not a knight errant. Still, she never got out of the house, or, well, out of bed without one. Especially since their dad…

“And so the runaway lamb comes back to the farm. Did you lose some weight, brother? You look thinner. You seem almost lovesick, I’d say, if I didn’t know you don’t really fancy people.”

He actually did lose some weight since they last saw each other. From the moment he noticed how toned his neighbor was, he felt the need to jog a bit. The fact that his routine jog passed right next to where Gino did his workout routine didn’t factor in at all.

“Ah ah, very funny sis, very happy to see you too. How is the grumpy old frog feeling?” he asked, putting his handkerchief in his pocket.

“Mom is ok. She just got really scared. We all did. Seeing her fall from the ladder and not getting up… Fortunately it was just her knee that gave out and she broke her femur. Nothing that a good moon of rest and a healing inscription cast won’t heal. So, are you going to keep standing there like a fool, or do you want to step inside?”

Behind her sister was a small child. It was striking, his resemblance to their father. Same red hair (a trait that all of them brothers, except for the second one, lacked), same green eyes, and a constellation of freckles on his chubby face. The expression he wore was one of curiosity, extreme and manifested. He mimed a greeting with a hand. The baby cooed.

“Oh, true. You still haven't met my son. I was really upset when you did not come for his birth. We wanted you here.” she said, scowling.

“I’m sorry, sis”, he replied, a bit downcast. He really wanted to see his nephew but… That city… “ I had an enormous backlog of orders and I had to do them fast, since it was four days before the Numenuptials. You understand.”

“I do.” She took a step and hugged him, tight. She smelled of lavender and nut oil. Then, she stepped back, putting the scowl back on. “I’m still upset. We could have helped you with your commissions. That would have been a non-issue, you know that, right?”

“You had just given birth!” he answered, shocked.

“And? Still a better seamstress than you, brother” said the older woman, winking at him.

“That’s not difficult since you are ten years older than me.”

“Dearest brother”, she began, glaring towards him “Are you perchance saying that I’m old?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare.” He laughed. “I’m just praising your… experience.”

“Yes, sure, now come in. It’s cold outside today.”

There was indeed a slight chill in the air, a sign that the seasons were beginning to change.

The house was warm, and smelled of mint. It was a pleasant smell that contrasted so much with the one outside. After the door closed, it seemed like the ashen smell did not even exist.

“Where’s mother?” he asked, a bit anxious to check on her.

“Mom’s on the bed on the upper floor. Do you want to go see her right away?”

He started looking around the living room, but the ground floor seemed empty

“I think I’d like to say hi to your daughters, too, where have they gone?”

“You still didn’t ask my son’s name, and you want to see my daughters? Is uncle already playing favourite, little snip?” asked the woman to her son, before scooping him up.

“Unca!” answered the baby, seemingly unaffected by his mother’s words.

“Sure, yes, I’m sorry sis. The trip was horrible, it rained the whole time, I ripped a pair of socks, and they stopped me for questioning at the guard station.”

She gave him an amused look.

“I always told you that your fashion sense was a downright crime.”

“Always the jester, sis. No, they seemed to get me confused for some famous woodland bandit.”

“And why did they confuse you for him?”

“It seems we have the same height and build, so he must be a short and lean man, and he dons a signature red handkerchief.”

“So it was because of your fashion sense!”

The young tailor got beet red.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

“I hate the smell of the city! I did not want to have to deal with it more than it was necessary.”

“You used to love it when you were younger.”

“I really, really didn’t”. replied him, sternly.

“You opened your window at dawn to smell the lingering coal from the furnaces. You said you will break tradition and become a blacksmith. You even went and tried to set up an apprenticeship with that old goat, what was his name?”

“Ring. We all called him Ring. Because he made doorbells. I don’t even know if he remembered his own name. Still, you know, I don’t agree with the smell anymore after our dad’s passing.”

“Oh.” she said. She sighed, and looked down at her feet. “You’re… You’re right. That was a bit unfair to bring up.”

“At least after his passing we managed to lobby the Count to install air purifiers in every home and shop at the empire’s expense.”

“At our expenses, you mean. We pay taxes. It’s normal that we get something back from them.”

“Especially since they raised again last year, right?”

“Well, that was a given. The efforts on the warfront are rising. As you could see, the furnaces are in full swing, the requests for nails, picks, horseshoes, ammunition, swords, and armor pieces, especially helmets, are almost too much. They have to work at breakneck speed, and we know this well: a rushed job is no good job at all.”

“Measure thrice, cut once.” he said, matter of factly.

“Measure thrice, cut once, yes. I fear the products will be subpar and our troops will fall to the brutes at the border.”

“They won’t. We have the illustrious Emperor and the Numens at our back.” the man said, looking a bit proud. “Plus, the military of the empire has never been as big as it is today. These Deinish scoundrels and their expansionist mires will not go unpunished. We’ll strike back as soon as possible.”

“Are you sure? They say we lost Yttonia.”

“What? That’s just hearsay” he mumbled a bit under his breath, then said “We probably had to retire strategically.”

“You put too much faith in the troops for someone who skirted mandatory military duty.”

“I’m too short to go to war, remember? Can’t fit the standard armor.” he patted himself on the belly “There will be more sons and daughters of the empire that can better fit in. I’ll work on the blanket they will use.”

“I just hope they will nominate a new wave of officials. Last time, they ordered almost a hundred rune-embroidered clothing for them, so that they could look dashing away from the battlefields, in their tents, drinking wine.”

“Are you slandering the troops?”

“Just reporting what your youngest told me. She actually became an aide de camp and reports directly to sir Remington.”

“Sir Remington?” asked the tailor, flabbergasted, “Sir Remington the Undressed?”

“Sir Remington the well dressed now, thanks to my clothes. His bulging muscles will not tear them anymore.”

“Pity.” he whispered.

“What?”

“Nothing. An aide you say? Little Yarin has really grown up.”

“She’s twentyfive.”

“Still the kid that always stole my socks to make dolls and play jousting.”

“Still, do you wish to know the name of your nephew or will we keep changing the subject?”

“Yes! Yes! What’s his name again?”

“He’s Timotheus.” She looked toward her son, a soft look in her eyes, Timmy for short. “Timmy, say hi to uncle Sarin.”

“Hu-ho!”

The tailor made a melancholic expression, replaced by a smile when he caught one of his chubby hands with his. It was weird hearing that name after so many years. He didn’t know how to take it.

“Me and Daniel thought it would be… appropriate.”

“Yes, they really seem like two peas in a pod. You made the right choice. It fits him.”

He shook the little hand and gave the baby a kiss on the forehead.

“Hello little Timmy. It’s nice to finally get to know you.”

“You really are getting old, you know? Is that a white hair I spotted when you bent over?”

“It definitely isn’t, but I’ll be so, so handsome with salt and pepper hair.”

“Ugh, always so modest, bro.”

“Mommy! Is uncle here? Granny wants to see him!”

A young girl, eight years of age, came down the stairs. She had brunette hair like her mother, but unlike her, her eyes were green, like her little brother. She beamed when she saw him.

“Uncle Sarin!”

She ran towards him and jumped. He caught her and made her do a full circle.

“Hi, little Julie. I missed you lots.”

She pouted.

“Then why didn’t you come visit?”

“I was too full of commissions, dear. But now I’m here.”

He rummaged in his travel bag, and took something out.

“Here, for you, since seasons are changing.”

It was a scarf, a woolen scarf, made with multi-colored threads. On it, a little robin was embroidered. It seemed to move as you moved the scarf.

“Uncle! But this is so pretty! Thank you so much!”

She got on her points and kissed him on the cheek, then looked at her mother.

“Should I go fetch Riley? So she can say hi to uncle too?”

“Yes, go, she should still be with her father at the shop. Be quick, night is falling.”

The little girl put her arms on her hips, and puffed her cheeks out.

“Mum, you worry too much! I have one of your dresses on!”

“Still.” said her mother, stern. “Quick.”

“Okey dokey. See you later uncle! Hurry up and go see granny before she throws a fit!”

“Yes” said Karin, “you should go. She misses you as much as we do.”

“Yes sis. Sorry I stayed away so long.”

He looked at the stairs, before taking a deep breath, and starting the short climb. He remembered all the times he fell on them, or when he and his brothers challenged each other to come down only using the handrail. How much his dad shouted at them when they fell on top of the third brother, making him twist a finger. When he found him seated on the last step, out of breath, asking for water…

The stair ended abruptly, or so it seemed to him, as he was lost in thought.

“Sarin? Is that you?”

The voice came from down a short hallway. It was… softer then he remembered. A bit dryer, too. He walked until he got to an open door, and inside, on a big bed was his mother. Age had not been lenient with her, but it did not take away all the beauty she held in her youth. Her hair was white as silk, and draped on her shoulders in the same way. Her blue eyes shined underneath her glasses, while looking in his direction, catching a glimpse of the big sun rising. The spark in her eyes was still the same. After all, at almost eighty hundred and fifty moons, she still managed to take care of herself without much issue, accidents excluded.

“Hello, dear mother. I’m happy to see you are well.”

“Well? I’m confined to a bed for the better part of this month, do you call this ‘well’ in that slum you call a village?

“Turn is a perfectly sized hamlet, it’s got everything I need and the people are nice there.”

“And there’s no coal” she added.

“That, too.”

“...Look at you, all grown up. A shop not in the red.” She adjusted her glasses “Still no heir for it, though.”

“Mother!” His face reddened for the second time that day. “I told you. I’m too worried about work to find time for a wife.”

“She could help you with your work. I can introduce you to at least five-”

“Would they be amenable to move out of the big city and come live with me in my house in Turn?” he asked, genuinely curious if someone who grew up with all the commodities would leave it all to marry.

“No,” answered his mother, dry, “I suppose they wouldn’t. Don’t make me worry too much, though. Did you at least make friends there?”

“Yes, yes I did.” He smiled, content. “I’m not alone, mother. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Are you eating enough? You seem a bit worn.”

“I’m fine!” He laughed. “What’s with you all and my weight? I just started working out a bit. I jog.”

“You? Physical activity? Kerin!” she started shouting mockingly “Call a cleric! We need an exorcism!”

“Oh, come on, shut up mom!”

She took off her glasses, and cleaned the lenses with the bedsheet, before putting them back on.

“I’m glad you came.”

“I am glad I came, too. I hope you’ll get better soon.”

“Oh, if I did not die from the blackening disease, I won’t die ever till the Numens themselves come down to bring me over for Renewal, son!”

He took one of her hands, and gave it a gentle kiss, squeezing it softly.

“I really wish that’s what will happen, mom.”

A loud series of knocks could be heard from the door.

“Oh, it must be * that came back with her sister. Be a dear, Sarin, and go open the door.”

The young tailor gave another kiss to his mother, then went slowly down the stairs. The minty smell was still very strong and it was irking him a little, but better that, than coal.

Another series of knocks came from the door. Then a shout.

“Open! Please! Open up!”

The man doubled his step, and was upon the door while his sister with the baby in her arms came out from the living room. He opened the door.

His brother in law, white faced and breathless, was squeezing his niece’s hand hard, and his niece was bawling, seemingly horrified.

“What’s going on? What happened, Daniel?”

“It’s Riley.” He paused, almost like he couldn’t find the strength to say what came next. “Riley is gone.”