Chapter 23: Final Reparations
The week passed quickly until the final evening before the aurora. He hadn’t seen Mitty since their last dispute, save once when she’d shown up, covered in pink paint, warning him to lie low for the week. The air was awkward between them, and she’d departed quickly, likely staying at Selia’s place.
Rather than go there too, he’d just been staying in the dojo. Each day he woke up at sunset, did warmups, then trained with sensei until lunch. Afterwards they’d alternate sparring and muscle training while sensei taught him theory.
He found the information stuck much better when he was lifting heavy weights.
There was something about the constant improvement that appealed to him in his training. He could tell he was improving, even though he was pretty sure sensei was still holding back during their spars.
He’d resolved to get one hit before the week was in, but so far, he was still unable to touch the man, each blow just out of reach.
As it was during this spar. When he committed to a strike, he tried to replicate the feeling from earlier, where he’d shattered the training dummy in half, but since then, he’d only managed to replicate the feat a handful of times.
He was currently using his reach to dissuade sensei from closing in, the spars far from the first, when he’d all but been running away. Now he was able to keep him at bay without giving ground. When the man stepped forward, he aimed at the forward foot as he committed to it, no, it was a feint, he held his strike, instead preferring a non committal thrust.
He was fighting too defensive. He had the reach advantage and should use it.
He threw in a few strikes, before committing to a big thrust with all his strength. If it hit his teacher, it would blow him across the ring. He knew it would not. As expected, the man used his uncanny flexibility to pass the thrust by, running his sword up the length of his staff.
He was too close now for his staff to be of use. Rather than try to gain distance, he stepped in closer dropping his weapon, sending an elbow upwards towards his teacher’s chest instead.
Now his teacher was too committed to his strike to abort it, so he continued his diagonal slash too.
Time slowed in his mind as he saw he wouldn’t make it in time. He pushed his muscles, straining against his limits, elbow accelerating fractionally, but it wasn’t enough. He felt the air part before his blow almost reluctantly, holding him back. If only he was a bit faster it would land. He needed speed. He needed [Speed].
With a whipcrack sound, his elbow accelerated just a bit more, arriving mere fractions of a second earlier than it would have.
But it was enough.
Even committed to his strike, his teacher had already been stepping out of the way, and he too responded with his own whipcrack fast movement. But for once, it wasn’t in time.
His elbow whistled through the air, just barely clipping the sword master across the side of his ribs. He felt the usual sword against his neck, but he’d done it. He saw red welling up on the wound he’d made, drawing a trickle of blood.
He couldn’t help but smile as his teacher spoke.
“Pleased with yourself, eh lad? Beating up an old man three times your age? Tch. You’d best be on your way then. It seems your girlfriend decided she wouldn’t leave your raggedy behind after all.”
As he said this, he swiped a marble from the air, cleaving it in half with his sword, then another. Instead of slicing in two, the second marble exploded in a cloud of red dust.
“Peh, chili powder? Get out of here before I wring your neck, you rapscallions. Go on, shoo!” he said, hacking and waving the air clear with his hands.
He turned to go, smiling as he saw Mitty by the door, then they left together.
***
He was a bit leery about talking to her again after almost a week. He knew it wasn’t really his fault, but he still felt like he did something wrong, and didn’t know how to broach the topic.
They sat together on the outlook again. Something about it calmed him, ironically, as most heights did the opposite. Even though it was high up it felt stable, and it was beautiful. The last of the iridescent shadow that bathed the lower city cast by the crystal towers far above was starting to fade as dusk lowered the sun into its cradle for the night.
He felt like he should say something, so he asked.
“About the other night… what happened?”
She winced but responded.
“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I’ve just had… a bad experience with that in the past.”
“You had a family?”
“…yeah.”
That was new information. He always thought she was a stray. She sounded sad though, so he didn’t press it. She spoke this time.
“Look, I’m sorry for how that night ended. If you get a wish or something, just use it however you want. Let’s just forget that conversation happened, okay?”
He would never forget the hurt in her eyes that night, but he nodded his head anyway in the smallest of deceptions. The look of relief he saw in her eyes made it worth it.
“Oh yeah, I got you a gift. Here.”
She placed a small metal ball attached to a thin chain. On closer inspection it was one of those cute birds he liked.
“Woah, thanks Mitts. I’ve never gotten a gift before.”
She shuffled in place. “Well, I just saw it and thought of you, you know? As an apology?”
“That’s nice of you. Oh right, Mitts, did you get info on the banquet tomorrow? You seemed interested in going.”
“Oh, right. Yeah. That’s actually why I’m here. The banquet is tomorrow evening, but entrance is at noon. Here, I got you a mask” she said, handing him a gold mask in the shape of a snarling wolf, covering the top half of his face. She continued “oh, and we’ll need to get you better clothes, those ones are filthy. And boots. Here, Selia gave me some money, lets get you fitted out before they close for the night.”
“Speaking of boots, did Rowan end up enchanting them for you?”
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“Yes, but he won’t be done until after the aurora. Something about setting up for his experiment. I’ll pick them up after the masquerade.”
She pulled him off the bench, and they made their way to the upper district.
“Oh, and before I forget, you haven’t seen the man from Esthar, have you?”
“No, I’ve been at the dojo all week. Oh yeah, what did you throw at the old man earlier? You really caught him off guard.”
“Just a little chili powder pill. Selia taught me how to make them, as well as a new dish I think you’ll like.”
He perked up at that. It’d been over a week since she’d cooked for him, and he felt he might go into withdrawal soon.
“No, you’ll have to wait until the aurora. I only have one shot at it, and I want it to be perfect.” She quickly continued.
Ah well. He could wait one more day. Just one.
***
After a short ride up the mountain, they came to the Cloud District, though she’d heard several other names for it. The guards stopped them as usual for some quick questions.
“Hello again miss. Mitty, right? And a friend? Before you head on in there’s actually a new protocol. Please state if you own a cat, or if you have aided in smuggling a cat into Windcrown? I know, ridiculous, isn’t it?”
Mitty responded. “That is ridiculous. No, neither myself nor my companion own a cat, or have aided in smuggling one into the city.” Her entrance had been completely out in the open.
“Very well, in you two go.”
The guard pulled aside to let them through, and they headed straight for the tailor Selia had recommended. Tippy Top Tailors, the highest tailor in the world, according to a sign outside. She supposed many establishments in the district could probably make a similar claim.
It was a thin and tall building, like most buildings in the district, but tidy. They made their way to the empty desk and rang the service bell.
From a floor above they heard a nasal voice.
“Just hold on a moment, I’ll be right with you. Ahh, there’s that fabric. Who left it there?”
A very short man, not even shoulder height to her zipped down the stairs, holding a large swash of thick maroon fabric. He set it aside and jumped up onto a stool behind the desk bringing him to eye level.
“What can I do for you, miss?”
“We were looking for clothes for the masquerade tomorrow and were hoping you could make something fancy.”
“Make? MAKE? You think I can just MAKE something like that in a single night like some magic hen? You think it just pops out of the ether like some wizard’s spell? NO, it takes TIME! Time and care that I don’t have!” he shrieked.
“Oh, but Selia said you were the best of the best around here…”
“Selia said that? Well you should’ve led with Selia sending you. Of course I can take a look. I’ll probably have to resize existing pieces, but I can probably get something together for you. Come here. Stand right there please.”
The man brought out a stool from behind the counter, but stopped when he examined her cloak.
“Is this… what I think it is?” he asked reverently. “Oh my. It is… Where did a waif like you get a cloak of woven night? This is fuligin. You can’t just buy this off your local fripper. Speak, girl.”
“I bought it with a bargain, little man. Don’t speak to a lady like that.” She didn’t actually care too much, but she was practicing a persona for the masquerade. She’d always wanted to try the rich snobby woman.
“Ah, of course. My apologies. I got carried away. If I may, lady, your clothes seem fancy enough for the event already. Had I such a cloak, I would wear nothing else. Though perhaps styling your hair might be in order.” The man had been shocked into politeness for only the briefest of times before his regular tone of voice returned.
“While I would not mind an outfit, I actually require one for my friend over there. Yes, the tall one, you can’t miss him. We’ll require outfits for both of us, ready in the morning”. She then gave a quick summary of the styles she would like.
“Your porter, my lady? I do not think- yes, milady” he cut off as she gave him a look. Mistaking Dantes for a porter WAS pretty funny though, so she let it slide.
Watching the man take Dantes’ measurements was also funny, requiring him to bring out a taller stool and stand on his Tippy Toppy Toes to reach at times. After a few more questions, he told them he’d have something ready for them in the morning, and sent them next door to a barber.
“I suppose you could use a haircut, Dantes. That’s a pretty shaggy mane you have going there. Say you’ve been pretty quiet.”
He looked at her, eyes slightly hollow. “You’re scary when you shop for clothes, Mitts.”
Hehe. That made her happy.
As they entered Beards, Braids and Fades, he added “Also, I think the haircut is for you, Mitts.”
“What, why would you think that? My hair is great.”
The barber was nearly the exact opposite of the man next door in appearance, with a tall and thin frame, like a stick. Seeing them enter she approached in a flurry.
“Oh wow that’s a real rat’s nest you have there, hon, I’ll get you sorted out right away. Why don’t you sit down in this chair here. Now what sort of cut would you like today? How about something shoulder length? That way I won’t have to take much off. Yes, yes, shoulder length, and a quick clean up to start, then we can make decisions. Wow, do you ever brush? This might be the messiest hair I’ve ever seen. Here, I have something for tangles, don’t worry. Were you caught in the wind chamber overnight or something?”
In a whirlwind of action and without any input, Mitty found herself seated on the chair with the lanky barber darting around her, spraying stuff in her already perfect hair. She could see Dantes holding back a laugh in the corner as he took a seat, pulling out a rice ball wrapped in paper. Of course he had snacks.
The indignity lasted only 15 minutes, as the woman worked quickly, firmly but not unkindly pushing her back down when she made to rise and snipping away with swift precision.
“Sit still, hon, we’re almost done.”
Around her she saw clippings of her beautiful black hair arrayed around her on the floor.
When the woman finally finished, she paid and rushed out of the store, brushing past Dantes, leaving him behind as he watched her go.
***
Cute.
Was his only thought as he watched her stomp out the door. Something about the way she looked just then awoke some sort of formerly unknown protective instinct.
He could tell she wasn’t really THAT upset about it, just embarrassed, and it was interesting to see a cleaned up side to his companion. Before this, he hadn’t even known her hair was naturally wavy, he’d just assumed it was tangled.
The hair stylist knew what she was doing, it seemed, as she’d combed out her tangled hair, which added a few inches of length bringing it down to her shoulders as promised. After that she’d just given Mitts a quick half up look to keep her hair out of her face.
The stylist looked at him now.
“You want a cut as well, hon? I wasn’t gonna charge her, and she just paid, so I could do something with yours too if you want.”
“Sure” he said, smiling. With Mitts out of the shop, the woman had calmed down considerably, losing the hurricane energy she’d exuded earlier.
He sat at the chair and she leaned it back, his head dipping into a bowl of warm water.
“So how long you two been together?”
People seemed to keep asking him that, and he felt like there was some significance there that he was losing, but he answered anyway.
“Oh a few weeks. I mean we knew each other before then, but we just started travelling together recently.”
The woman’s long fingers combed through his hair, coating it with something thick and fragrant. It felt good. He sunk back and relaxed, enjoying the sensation.
“Oh, friends into something more? Sounds nice.”
They made small talk for a bit, before they got to the topic of the masquerade.
“I think it’s lovely you’re going together. I take it you know how The Halo works, right?”
He indicated he did not. She was snipping his hair with her scissors in a satisfying rhythm.
“Well you know how it rotates, right?”
He looked at it now, just a bit of the arc peeking through the window, hanging unsupported in the air far above. He hadn’t noticed it rotated.
“It’s amazing! I went for a function once with a former boyfriend a long time ago, and I didn’t realise how HIGH it was. I mean, everything in Windcrown is high, but it’s HIGH high. Anyway, the thing about the Angel Wing, that’s the official name for it, is you can only enter or exit at noon.”
The comb through his hair met little resistance, and his head felt a hair lighter. Or several hairs, he supposed.
“Why’s that?”
“Oh, well you get to The Halo through a bridge from the central spire. You can barely see it from here. Anyway, that bridge meets up with a bridge on the Halo, but it doesn’t rotate, so the two bridges only meet once a day.”
“So when you’re there, you’re stuck there for a day?”
“That’s right, hon. Best bring something to sleep in. Rooms will be comfortable of course. It used to be the guest wing for visitors from abroad, back before humans settled here. Actually, that’s another thing. The pillows are soft. They gotta be made of clouds or something. My favourite part about the whole experience was the sleeping. Not that I got much of that with my boyfriend around, if you know what I mean, hon.”
He nodded. Her boy friend must’ve been afraid of heights like he was. It was nice of her to stay up and console him. He did not expect to get much sleep either.
She made a few final snips, spinning the chair to inspect her work, before holding up a mirror for him to inspect.
The overall length of his hair meant there wasn’t a lot to do with it, but he did notice how it was much more even, and the weeks of sweat and grease had disappeared. He hadn’t realised how greasy his hair had been until then.
He thanked her, and left, heading back to the dojo for the night. Tomorrow would be a big day.