Chapter III: Tailor's Tent

The tailor's tent was not large, tucked comfortably in the corner next to other craftsman in the market. There were a few tables in front holding an assortment of clothes, and even some leatherwork. There were also some finer pieces hung up outside the tent, used as proof of his handiwork to passersby. The tailor, Morin, was packing up for the night, removing clothes from the table and returning them to storage until the morning glut of customers.

As Rieta approached, she pulled back her hood. These people knew what she was, so there was no reason to hide it. Besides, people found it easier to talk when they could look you in the eye. Although I doubt my eyes make anyone feel more at ease. She mused, before clearing her throat to let him know she was there.

Morin glanced back and gave a brief smile, "One moment, miss, I am just about finished here. You are welcome to sit inside while you wait."

Rieta nodded and Morin returned to his nightly duties. Upon entering the tent, she noted that little had changed in the month or two since she last came for measurements. A spot in the corner was arranged for privacy, both for changing and acquiring body measurements, including a cloth that could be pulled to close the entrance. Scanning the room in search of a seat, her eyes briefly met with the standing mirror kept near the changing room. Instinctively, she flinched and averted her gaze, but not before catching a quick glimpse of her face.

A glimpse of eyes preternatural, untarnished pools of silver gleaming in the faint light, two black horns sprouting from her temples, and skin stained a murky red.

Finally her eyes fell on the chair off to the side and she rushed to sit down. Soon after, Morin returned with the last of the clothes. "Sorry for the delay, miss. I was not expecting you so...promptly."

Rieta raised an eyebrow, "You told me to return in two months by nightfall, so here I am."

Morin nodded, giving an embarrassed smile, "Of course, miss. I just expected it to be...darker before your arrival."

Rieta nodded in understanding, "Of course. You don't want folks to see you dealing with one of the Malenai, right?"

The old man froze for a moment. The name of her people was rarely spoken, often replaced with a more derogatory term, like hornfolk, darkblood...devil. Many still believed the old stories. Speaking the name only invited ill fortune, or worse.

The shopkeep did not deny the allegation, but sighed, dropping the cheery facade, "Listen, it's nothing personal, kid. You folks have a nasty reputation, and that fire a few years ago did nothing to help matters 'round here." He then eyed her current outfit and added, "Besides, I imagine you don't enjoy the prying eyes either."

Looking down at her attire, it was hard to disagree. A hood to hide her face and horns, the cloak concealed her tail from behind, thought it was wrapped firmly around her waist every morning to disguise it as a belt. The attempt to hide her non human characteristics was obvious. So much of Rieta's life was spent hiding nowadays, she scarcely knew her own face.

Regardless, she didn't feel the need to deign his comment with a response. "Do you have the clothes or not?"

His posture relaxed as the topic returned to business, "Of course, little lady, do you have the last payment?"

Wordlessly, she rose from her seat to hand him the bag with his payment. It took a moment to count out the coins, but he seemed satisfied. Grabbing some folded garments from the table, he handed her the clothes with a practiced smile, "Here you go, should be your exact size, my wife never makes a mistake, after all."

The mention of his wife sent a shudder down her back. The woman in question had been quite enthusiastic during the whole process. She seemed quite excited getting measurements for "one of her kind." The wife even took measurements that Rieta could not begin to understand, like measuring the length of her tail or the diameter of her horns. Most of her life had been spent hiding those things, so having someone fuss over them was...uncomfortable. She was, however, promised that she would not regret it.

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That remained to be seen.

"I'm...surprised she's not here." Rieta said in what she hoped was a measured tone.

The tailor shrugged, "She had some garments that needed mending. If not for that, I might not have been able to keep her home." He smiled, staring off wistfully.

While he was distracted, Rieta felt this was a good time to make her exit. The transaction was finished, she had what she wanted, no need to stick around.

Before she could turn to leave, she suddenly heard a voice cry out from behind the tent, "Miss, wait!"

A moment later, the tailor's wife rounded the corner and stopped at the entrance to the tent, chest heaving as if out of breath. Her graying hair, once tied neatly in a bun, now hung about her aged face in disarray, wrinkled eyes squinting in the candlelight. In her hands was a wide brimmed hat. It was made of fine, blackened leather, with two large holes in the bottom near the center. Stitched to the side, near the top of the hat, was a feather, midnight blue, wrapped round by a silver ribbon.

"Don't leave without this, miss. I made it special for you."

Rieta, confused, came closer to take it, but instead of handing it to her the tailor's wife began placing it on her head.

"You wear it like this, miss." Placing the hat gently on the back of Rieta's head, she angled the holes to catch the part of her horns that curved upward ever so slightly. As if an artist, drawing the horns along the curvature of her scalp, ended them in a slight flourish, so all could see his handiwork. No matter how Rieta tried to hide them in her messy hair. The woman then pulled the hat so the horns came out the top through the holes, giving a slight tug at the end to make sure it stayed in place.

"I made this as an apology for upsetting you when I took your measurements, miss. I had just never seen such beautiful horns before. And I knew they would add the perfect touch to your clothes. But you should see for yourself, miss." Without an invitation or hesitation, the woman pulled Rieta back into the tent towards the mirror she had tried so hard to avoid. Wincing initially at the sight, Rieta slowly came to meet her gaze, but then her eyes fell on this hat. On a subconscious level she noted that her hair almost appeared to merge with the hat under the faint candlelight, but the focus was on her horns. An ebony crown that seemed almost stitched to the side like the ribbon and feather. It masked her horned visage, but also displayed it proudly for all to see.

Rieta was speechless. It looked...perfect, in a way she never thought possible.

Without a second thought, Rieta rushed back to the section for changing, while murmuring a quiet " 'scuse me," as she did so. She closed the drapes slowly, delicately, then practically tore through both the old and new clothes in an almost blind rush to change outfits.

As soon as she finished changing, she rushed back to the mirror, to take it all in.

The clothes themselves were not of particularly special make outside of the hat, but they were made for travel, fitted to be worn only by her. The foundation for her outfit was a simple, woolen long sleeved shirt, designed for comfort on long journeys. The leather cuirass, made up of chestguard and shoulder pads, accompanied by gauntlets, were less practical at first glance. They were stylized, designed to capture her feminine physique and create a more striking image, should the need arise. Form was chosen over function, but it was still made of sturdy leather. Plus there were countless pockets for weapons or tools of her trade, hidden from sight but always within reach.

Legwear was far simpler. Dark brown trousers, allowing for complete freedom of movement and a degree of comfort on cold winter nights, paired with leather shoes padded for silent steps, but given enough grip to climb up walls and rooftops.

Finally, to complete the ensemble, a dark green traveler's cloak draped over her shoulders allowed for both concealment and protection from the elements.

After carefully examining the outfit, she couldn't help but concede the tailor and wife had outdone themselves. It was all she had envisioned and more.

Rieta finally had it. It was here, before her very eyes. The vision she always could see in the back of her mind. The ideal hero and adventurer she always hoped to be was here.

For the first time in ages, Rieta met her gaze in the mirror, and smiled a toothy grin. Looking closer, for the first time in a long time, she noted her face was no longer that of a child. Her face bore all the marks of adolescence, the transition from girl to woman, from child to adult. The precipice of change made manifest in her complexion.

One thought kept coursing through her mind as she thanked them both before picking up her old attire and vanishing into the night.

She's no longer a childhood dream. She's finally a reality. I can leave all the pain behind. I am finally ready...

Selene Bryseis.