The tent glowed with iron lanterns that hung from a wooden frame. The floor was covered in different animal furs and a large table dominated the majority of the room. “Oh my Zar, how long you’ve been gone!” Rina said as she hugged her son and held his face in her hands. Lessa smiled as the family reunited more warmly now that they were in private.
“Mother, Shakara, please,” Zar said gently, holding them both at arm's length. “It was only a couple of weeks. As you can see I am no worse for it.” His mother fussed over him a moment longer and Lessa thought it cute that he seemed embarrassed about an overprotective parent just like any other teenager.
“Lessa.” Zar finally succeeded in getting his mother to relinquish her grip. “This will be your room.” He held up a side tent flap to reveal a small room that had a mat centered on the floor and another lantern sitting beside it.
“Thanks.” She mumbled, feeling as awkward as she had ever been.
“Tomorrow we need to start your training, at dawn.” He continued, Lessa swallowed hard. Sword training. She wondered how hard it would be, how terrible she would do, “But for now, you need Kathardrian clothes.”
Lessa looked down at herself. Admittedly, her jeans and tee shirt had gotten very dirty over the last couple of days. Then she looked at Rina and Shakara.
“I can’t wear a dress all the time.” She nearly pleaded.
He chuckled, “No one would expect you to. At least not a full dress, sword maidens wear half skirts. But you really need some Kathardraian boots.”
“I like my boots.” She muttered.
“You’ll like Kathardrian boots even more. Mother, would you mind telling the council that I can debrief in two hours? Lessa?” He finished holding the tent flap open for Lessa to walk through.
The crowd that had been outside of the tent moments before was quickly dispersing. Save for the people who were gawking at Storm. From a safe distance.
“It won’t hurt anyone, will it?” Shakara had followed them out of the tent.
“Her name is Storm.” Zar responded to Shakara, “She is not an it.”
“She won’t hurt anyone,” Lessa told Shakara.
“You’re clearly not Kathardrean. Where did you come from?” Shakara shot at Lessa as she followed Zar down the wide, main street of the small town.
“I, uh…” Distractedly, Lessa tried to answer. There was a group of people lifting a roof into place without touching it. Floating it above an existing frame.
“South,” Zar said shortly. His tone clearly shut down Shakara’s line of questioning.
“How did you tame a dragon?” Shakara continued her investigation undeterred.
“She’s not tame.” Was all Lessa could think to respond.
“But you were riding her.” The younger girl persisted.
“It’s more of a mutual understanding,” Lessa told her. Shakara’s face screwed up in confusion.
“Are there more tame dragons where you come from?”
“Shakara!” Zar snapped at her. He turned to face her, and Lessa strongly related to the scowl he directed at his younger sibling.
Shakara seemed absolutely unphased as she bore his glare completely at ease. “Fine.” She surrendered. “You could just say you don’t want to tell me where she is from.”
He seemed to be groaning internally.
They arrived at a storefront, a sign adorned with needle, thread, and scissors hanging above their heads. Zar gestured for Lessa to step ahead of him. She crossed the threshold and he followed closely behind, he was followed by a loud thumping sound. She jumped and swiveled to see Shakara holding her nose.
“Zar!” She yelled, though her voice was muffled like she was on the other side of the glass. She raised her fist and smashed it into a barrier as if there was a glass door where Lessa and Zar had just stepped through. “I’m telling Mother!” Her muffled indignant voice called into them.
A smirk adorned his lips as he closed the shop door.
“She wasn’t bothering me,” Lessa said kindly.
“She was bothering me,” He retorted with a scowl.
“Why don’t you want her to know where I’m from?”
“It’s not just her.” His response was quiet. “Even here, in Kathardra, in a world of magic, walking between worlds is not an event likely to be received well.”
“Oh let me guess,” her voice was rueful, “Neither is talking to dragons?”
He gave her a pained smile.
“Oh hello, Zar!” A cheery voice came from further in the store. A boldly dressed woman had just stepped into the foyer from a back room.
“Hello Mrs Strupe.” He said, immediately turning his attention to the woman.
“What can I do for you today?” She addressed Zar, but her eyes raked up and down Lessa. Lessa distinctly felt the woman was weighing her clothes and found them lacking.
“Mrs Stupe, this is Lessa.”
“And she is obviously in need of some, uh, better fitting clothes?” She said it so brightly almost covering the insult.
“Right,” Zar confirmed.
“Come along dear.” The woman waved her hand to Lessa and beckoned her toward the back room.
“I’ll wait here,” Zar said, taking a seat at an available chair.
“I uh… Okay…” Lessa mumbled over her shoulder as the woman gently, yet firmly pushed her toward the back room.
“Alright darling,” Mrs. Strupe said pointing at a pedestal in the middle of the room. Lessa stepped onto it hesitantly. “What are you in for today?”
“Um….”
“A nice gown or two?” The woman asked, pulling a clipboard from a counter.
“No, um, half skirts?” she hoped that was what Zar had said.
“Oh, right of course” Mrs. Strupe replied, flicking her fingers toward the sword hanging from Lessa’s hips. “I don’t have any half skirts in stock but we can definitely alter something….”
This time when she flicked her fingers in Lessa’s direction a measuring tape shot out toward Lessa like a snake coming in for a strike. Lessa jumped and tried to swat the tape away. Her hand did nothing to disturb its course toward her waist. It coiled all the way around her midsection and Mrs. Strupe glanced at it and took a note. The measuring tape dropped to Lessa’s hips and again Mrs Strupe recorded the reading.
The process repeated itself all along Lessa’s body as she watched uncomfortably.
“I don’t have any money to pay you,” Lessa mumbled ashamedly. She was about to offer to work off any debt when Mrs. Strupe interrupted.
“Oh darling, don’t you worry about it. My designs on the swordmaiden who rides a dragon will be enough.”
Lessa squirmed at this. The discomfort of being so novel was nearly physical.
“I think I have some pieces here that will work nicely," the woman continued by pulling dresses off of the shelves. She frowned at Lessa. “I think it is a good thing we are making them shorter, they are very nearly half skirts on you the way it is,” she chuckled to herself as she laid the dress on the counter behind her.
She glanced up at Lessa, then back down to the dress. With a single swipe through the air, the bottom half cleanly separated from the rest of the dress. The woman gestured to a needle and thread that at once started to drive itself through the newer hem of the shorter skirt.
“Yes, this one will go nicely with your eyes,” Mrs. Stupe said, holding up a green dress to Lessa’s cheek.
She repeated the process with the green dress. It was followed by another. Lessa frowned.
“This is too much. I couldn’t accept-”
“Nonsense,” the woman absentmindedly snapped as she added leggings to the pile.
“Yes,” she said with another glance in Lessa's direction. “I do imagine Zar wants his cloak back.”
She added a cloak to the pile.
“Now try this on,” she said lifting the initial dress, a cream-colored dress with gray flowers embroidered into it. She shoved it into Lessa’s hands and pushed Lessa toward a corner of the room cordoned off with a heavy curtain.
As fast as she could Lessa stripped her own clothes and slipped into the dress and leggings.
The dress had been hemmed off at her knees, the bodice was surprisingly comfortable despite its close fit and high collar. The sleeves were large and loose, reaching just above her elbows. And the whole thing tied neatly off to her left with several clever little knotted clips.
Lessa gingerly stepped barefoot around the curtain.
“Ah! So much better!” Mrs. Strupe clapped her hands once joyfully. “Step here girl,” she prodded Lessa onto the pedestal once more.
She pinched and pulled at the dress but didn’t make any more alterations.
“Just so.” She said happily. “Now, you have some proper clothes. Don’t worry about the old ones, I’ll take care of them,” she jerked the shirt and jeans from Lessa’s hands, she replaced it with a large sack of clothes.
“I, oh, okay,” Lessa said uncertainty as she let herself be pushed from the room. “Thank you so much.”
She came out to where Zar was still sitting.
He stared.
Lessa looked down at herself. Had she put it on wrong?
“Zar, darling, you tell your mother to come visit with me soon.” the seamstress said.
He jumped to his feet. “Yes of course I will.” He said at once. “Thank you Mrs. Strupe.”
Lessa offered Zar his cloak back and he took the bag from her arms as well.
He held the front door open for her and Lessa slipped by while Mrs. Strupe smiled at them both.
Lessa quietly walked beside Zar as he guided her down the wide street. “You very nearly look Kathardrean.” He commented.
“Really?” She asked once again looking down at herself.
“Yes.” He confirmed. “You just need boots.”
“Boots?” she asked.
“Yes, boots.” He chuckled. “Good Kathardrean boots. All Kathardreans wear them.”
Lessa looked around and at once it was easy to see that he was right. Every man, woman, and child was wearing boots. Save only the babies, who were wearing stockings alone.
“They are made with magic.” Zar continued. “They are tailor-made to fit your feet alone.”
“Zar, I can’t pay for something like that,” Lessa said quietly, painfully.
“Don’t worry about that Lessa.” He said earnestly. “My family will pay for these things. Your clothes too.” He said lifting the bag for emphasis.
Lessa blew out a breath. She felt so uncomfortable having Zar buy these things for her. Further indebting her to him, further binding her to him.
They came to the next storefront. This one had a sign with a picture of boots hanging above the door.
“Good afternoon Mr. Cobble,” Zar said once they walked into the store.
This shop was quite different from the first. There was no separation of front and back. Each wall was covered in different tools and leather.
“Good afternoon, Zar.” A man said from behind a workbench.
“Lessa needs Kathardrean boots, Mr. Cobble.”
The man’s eyes turned on Lessa. He was of middle age, with glasses perched on his nose, and dark hair was close-cropped to his head. His eyes dropped to her feet and he very nearly grimaced at her boots.
“Indeed she does.” He said, stepping away from his bench.
He at once handed Lessa a pair of socks. “Here. Put these on.” Lessa glanced around until she saw a low bench where she removed her boots and socks and pulled on the black ones offered to her. They were very soft and thick socks. She wiggled her toes and the black color changed to red.
“What the…” She mumbled.
“Well don’t just sit there.” Mr. Cobble said to her. “Stand up. Move around.” Lessa did as she was told. With each step she took color rippled through the socks, staining the bottoms in different shades of red.
“Go ahead and step up and down from the bench, ” Mr Cobble instructed. “Give it some stomps, move all over.”
Lessa did as she was told until the socks had changed to green on the bottoms under the balls and heels of her feet. Her toes had gone blue, and there were reds along her calves.
“That should be good enough.” He said. “Go ahead and give those back. I’ll have your boots ready in the next few days.”
“That’s it?” Lessa asked as she pulled off the strange socks.
“Yes ma’am.” He said tucking the socks away behind his workbench. “The socks give me all I need.”
“Thank you, Mr Cobble,” Zar said as he once again held the door open and gestured Lessa out.
“Lets go get you settled.”
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