22 Clothes: Emp

After the guards left, Galana led him to the clothing store, the sign of which read as: Pfigal's needle.

Inside the shop, a short women wearing glasses, a glittering dress and her hair tied in a bun was sewing two parts of what Emp assumed to be a shirt together. When she heard them get inside, she shot a sidelong glance at them before she went back to her work.

"I do not take care of the rabble here. Get out."

She didn't seem happy to see them but at least she spoke his tongue. Galana made her usual pout and answered for him.

"That guy isn't rabble, he is the young master Muracier."

This reminded him that while he was thinking about money and its uses, he forgot to tell her that he wasn't really the son of Chinui.

"Ha! You really think I will believe that? Go on then, show me your hunting card if you have the courage to lie on such a thing."

The short women seemed to be in a mood as bad as Galana's. He didn't want to upset anyone so he just did as he was asked. The woman made a strange sound and adjusted her glasses on her nose before she spoke again. This time, she sounded much more amiable.

"I'm sorry, it seems you really are a Muracier. By the forest, what kind of tragedy befell you to make you look like this! Please, let me help you. I cannot stand by and watch you go around dressed like so."

It was exactly why he was here after all, if his clothes had been all right, he would have no reason to come in the first place. She hesitated for a second before she gestured him to follow her. With a spin and a wave of her sparkling dress, she led them deeper in the shop.

Around them, there were unfinished pieces of clothing suspended everywhere. There were many tables covered in a mess of materials and delicate tools, all surrounded by dummies and mannequins wearing more or less finished works.

With all the things present, it should have been an ordeal to move through the shop but it surprisingly wasn't. The floor was kept extraordinarily clean and a large path had been cleared through all this mess to let everyone move freely between the different areas of her shop.

She brought them to a corner of the room were dozens of ribbons were kept, not so neatly, on a set of two tables. She threw almost all of them on her shoulder and got Emp to stand in the middle of a cleared area to start her work. Emp had no idea what she was doing. She was circling around him with the ribbons, throwing them around his body parts here and there, sometimes saying a number out loud and sometimes placing one of the ribbons carefully back on the table even though they were completely disorganised when she had first picked them up.

After she had finished doing her thing, she reached into a drawer to get an empty parchment, a feather and a pot of ink. Once everything was neatly placed on the table, she dipped the feather into the ink but it was old and dry.

"Stupid ink, never works when you need it." She grumbled as she searched around in the two next drawers to find a replacement.

When she finally found some working ink, she recorded all the numbers she had previously mentioned on the parchment before she turned around to ask him something.

"Sir, you're still growing, right?"

"I hope so." Answered Emp, causing an amused snort from Galana.

The short woman who still had not introduced herself frowned, either at his answer or Galana's reaction, he wasn't sure. Either way, she drew an upward arrow on her parchment before she turned back to him in a wondering manner.

"And how tall is your father?"

Did she want to know how tall Chinui was or how tall his creators were? The two answers would be completely different. The purpose was probably to guess how tall he would become himself so Chinui had nothing to do in this. Then he guessed he needed to think about strength since Sage only cared about his mind and Luck didn't care at all. How tall was Strength again?

"Almost twice my height I think."

The eyes of both girls enlarged. Did he say something crazy? Anyway it was the truth so there was nothing he could do about it. "Alright." Mumbled the woman, turning around in a daze. The short women thought for a moment before she drew three more upward arrows beside the first. She set the feather aside, clasped her hand together and made a faint smile.

"Then, the fun part, the materials and the design, what is it you desire?"

For a long time after after that, Emp was drowned in questions he barely understood, shoved left and right towards dozens of different types of cloth and materials and made to try so many different pieces of clothing he would not be able to say which he had tried and which he had not yet. After a while, he could have sworn he had already tried most of those the two girls presented to him.

The only clothes he had since he was born were the clothes Luck had given him. He had never thought it was this hard to buy clothes. It was so much more complicated than buying weapons! The value of Luck's small gift rose well above the clouds. How hard must it have been for Luck? Next time he saw him, he would thank him again for the clothes.

Emp had lost control over what was happening, and felt like he was only an outside witness to the never ending flow of textures and colors that were pushed upon him. By the end, he wished he would never have to buy clothes ever again.

Emp loved to learn new things and had nothing against knowledge about clothes but, there was just too much of it. It was all going too fast and decisively for him to grasp anything. He could see clearly now, it would be much harder than he thought to become knowledgeable in all things like Sage wanted.

At least Galana was there to filter most of it for him. She bickered with the short women the whole time on every possible subjects. Not that cloth, she would say, it's too reflective for him. Not that one either, it's too stiff, he is a Muracier, he will hate it if he can't move well in it. Too much of this, too much of that, not enough this, too colorful, not enough length, doesn't fit his personality at all.

The both of them combined made for one very dizzying experience. Emp understood a little better now how the old woman felt in the guild, how someone could be as scary as a monster.

Before they had reached a conclusion, Emp had shut his eyes and thought about other things while the two of them argued over things that did not matter much to him. He understood why Galana's book told her the Muraciers had no interest in things unrelated to combat. If it took this long to talk about mere clothes, he could easily picture Chinui just leaving without a word to train instead.

He also decided it was probably for the best to ignore the belt for now. He feared that if he was to mention it now, he would be thrown into a whole new mayhem. The Belt buckle didn't matter in the face of this ordeal.

He was drawn out of his daydreaming at some point by Galana.

"Idiot! I mean sir, I mean... whatever. Which color do you prefer?"

Emp opened his eyes to see the two girls holding a myriad of small cloth pieces, all of different colors. How was he supposed to choose? Did it even matter? He had never thought about which color was his favorite before. He looked closely at all the colors presented before him.

The two girls were still talking but he did not listen to what they were saying at all. He didn't need their opinion to choose what color he liked. There was a lot he felt were great and a lot he didn't care about. One by one, he removed them from the possibilities until only a few remained. A deep green, a bloody red, a pale and calm blue and a purple. In the end, he pointed at the purple one.

"I like this one."

"The royal purple?" Asked Galana, pouting once more. "Why?"

"See, in the end I was the one who was right lowlife!" Screeched the short woman towards Galana, ecstatic.

"I don't know." Answered Emp "This one just feels better, color doesn't matter anyway."

Galana made a half smile and anger flashed on the face of the short woman. Had he missed something important?

After another while of confusing things he did not understand, the short woman finally decreed they were done and Emp released the longest sigh of his life.

"Now, I only need to know where I shall have them delivered once I'm done. Or perhaps you would prefer to come pick them up yourself?" Said the woman.

Emp failed to grasp the meaning of what she said.

"What do you mean?"

The short woman just looked at him confused for a while before Galana found what was wrong for the both of them.

"Wait, did you think you would get the clothes now?"

"Is that not the case?"

"Of course not, she has to make them first! Did you think she had all of that prepared somewhere in case someone with exactly your size and tastes came around to buy something?"

Said like that, it made perfect sense but Emp couldn't help but feel like he had wasted a lot of time. It also meant that he still had no clothes that weren't torn to wear for now. It was unpleasant to think he had to go through all that but wouldn't see anything for a while. He would still get them at some point so he went along with it anyway.

Still, did she not said that she could not stand watching him walk around dressed like that when he got in? Was it just a way of speech or did she think he would stay like that for the whole time until his clothes were delivered?

"Then, send it to the school in Bêtéclair. I will be there for a while."

"In Artefine? No problem sir, It will all be sent there once I'm done. Now let's talk about the price." She took on a mischievous air before she continued. "With everything we discussed thus far, I would say sixty crowns for three sets, delivery included."

Emp didn't mind paying but Galana seemed really upset. She snorted and pointed angrily at the short, still unnamed, women.

"You're not really going to pay that right? That's obvious theft!"

Was it? He didn't even know what he was buying exactly.

"Would you shut up you lowlife servant!" The women lashed back. "If a grand character such as the Muracier heir wants to bargain he doesn't need the input of an unsophisticated savage like you! Leave me be you dung eyed fish!"

Emp frowned, that was the first time he ever heard such an insult. It wasn't directed at him but he could still feel the anger and malice dripping from it. Something must have happened between them while he wasn't paying attention. Galana laughed in disdain.

"Dung eyed fish? Is this really the only thing you could come up with? Is someone of your class unable to find a good insult unless it's been taught to you in a school or is it just because you are so small you can barely see me through the floorboards and confused me with the fish you keep as a lover?"

The short woman snorted in contempt before she counterattacked.

"At least I have some features to be insulted upon. Both your clothes and yourself are so plain that if you were not both a gold digger and the most annoying hag I've ever heard, I would have never noticed your existence."

Emp wasn't quite sure on how to stop them so he just tried to tell them to stop directly.

"Let us all stop for a moment and talk calmly."

But his words fell into deaf ears.

"What about you? Not only are you small but you're flat as well. I would be convinced you have no husband because it is obvious you can bear no child but I'm sure it is rather for the fact that a giant fly surely has a more charming personality than yours."

"You have no look, no taste and no redeeming traits but if you still want to compare, it seems I win in terms of wealth as well since you appear to be unable to understand how money works and decided to waste more than what was rightfully yours. So when you, brainless bitch, end up thrown to the pigs, I will be laughing from my successful business."

"If said pigs were to ask you, you would gladly spread your legs for them. What's more, that debt was out of my control from the start, I had nothing to do with it."

"Who was it then, your parents? Then, they are even more retarded than you and like the worms they are they tried to steal from their better. Or did they just walk around lazily all day begging for money?"

"Don't you dare!"

Galana was shaking in anger, her face beet red.

"Ho, I do dare! I'm curious now, what was it? Your father probably died in some genius way like drowning in a puddle somewhere and your mother was so useless she ran out of coins and started stealing pocket money in the market place. Maybe your mother had no charm at all and your father accepted her out of pity, before he ditched her when he finally understood he would have to take care of you as well. That would explain both your plain looks and your terrible tastes as..."

"Enough!" Screamed Emp to stop them both. "I do not understand what is happening between you two but I am too tired to listen to this nonsensical fight any longer."

On one side, there was Galana, shaking in anger with tears spilling out of the corner of her eyes. On the other, the small women had crossed her arms and looked at her with a disdainful gaze from the corner of her own eyes. They both seemed so charged with emotions Emp had no idea how it was still contained in their bodies.

He gained a lot of insight about anger but that wasn't what he had come here for at all. He had to settle this or nothing would be done for the rest of the day. He waited four breaths to be sure none of them would talk again before he made a decision. He looked towards the short women and talked to her first.

"You," He still had no idea what was her name. "apologize to Galana first."

She seemed really taken aback by what he asked.

"Why me and not her?" She complained.

"Because you had the last words and she is the only one of you two who is crying. It is only fair that you would be the one to correct your wrongs first."

"I refuse to apologize to one such as her! You cannot force me to do so."

Emp felt his eyebrows furrow even more. Was he angry as well? He did not think so, he just felt really annoyed.

"I may not be able to force you to apologize but I there is also nothing you can do to stop me from just walking out."

Her face showed worry.

"You wouldn't, not after all this work! There is no one else that can do the job right in this city."

"Just watch me do it then."

On this, Emp turned around and walked out of the shop.

"But what about all my work!" She appealed as he stepped out.

"But what about all my time you wasted."

Both of the women stared at the door for a moment before Galana dashed after him, leaving the tailor alone and confused in her shop.

Emp had no idea where he was going, he just wanted to put some distance between him and the shop. He wondered how long he could walk like that before Galana stopped him to ask where he was going.

She was just walking beside him in silence. Did he walk far enough already? Should he stop here and ask her to take the lead because he had no idea where he was or did she not stop him yet because he was surprisingly moving in the right direction? He had left that shop but he still needed clothes before he left the city.

"I'm sorry." He heard Galana say from the side.

Why was she sorry? He wasn't the one she had insulted, if she was to apologize, she should apologize to the unnamed tailor instead.

"Because of me, you wasted a lot of time and did not get any clothes at all. I apologize for that, and also, thank you... for taking my side I guess."

Emp wanted to tell that it didn't matter that much and that he hadn't really taken her side. He had just asked the tailor to apologize first. He would have told Galana to apologize as well afterward. But, looking at her, he felt that this apology really mattered to her. It was probably a bad idea to tell none of it mattered. What should he say instead? What else was true that could explain his action?

"Well, I had no idea what was happening in there and she did not even introduce herself for the whole time we have been there, what else was I supposed to do?"

That was right, she didn't introduce herself, Emp didn't like to not know who he was talking to. Was it not a simple act of politeness to present oneself when meeting someone? She had been rude from the start. Aside from that, he just didn't like to listen to those two screaming at each other. Then, out of nowhere, Galana made a small reverence to him while holding the hem of her dress.

"Good afternoon young master Muracier. My name is Galana Whisryba, would you please allow me to keep being your guide for the rest of the day."

What was happening? What was she doing? Not only was it strange because she introduced herself in the middle of a conversation but also because the way she said it was very unlike her. What was he supposed to answer to that? At least her grandmother would approve of the way she said it.

"Who else would do it if not you? Of course I will allow it. I still need clothes, some I could wear tomorrow if possible. I already said I wouldn't get angry at you, and your grandmother is counting on me to help you out with the way you treat nobles."

"I understand, I won't disappoint you again. I think I know a good place where to buy clothes."

She was really acting strangely. Emp had gotten used to her calling him idiot all the time, pouting for anything and everything and yelling at his every mistakes. Now, she just seemed defeated, the events in that tailor shop must have been tiring for her as well. Maybe he should ask her if she felt all right. Would she get angry at him again if he did? That would solve the problem.

"Are you alright? You are acting weirdly." He asked just after they had resumed their walk.

"Yes, I'm fine."

Emp felt this was a lie. He wasn't sure of course but it didn't sound right. Also, she was crying minutes ago. Was it something the short tailor had said? She had started losing her composure somewhere around the debt thing and mentions of her parents. The only way to find out was to ask.

"What was that, earlier, about a debt? Is this why you are feeling unwell?"

She continued to walk in front of him without slowing down but raised her hand above her shoulder to show it to him.

"Do you know what that is?"

He assumed she did not mean her hand but the only other thing that was there, her iron bracelet.

"An ugly bracelet." He answered honestly.

"It's a debt iron not a bracelet!"

He could not help but notice she had not started her sentence with idiot.

"It's made out of black iron and serves to stop those highly indebted to leave the city before they have paid back what they owe. It's weight serves to remind you of the consequences that awaits you if you do not pay back. The amount you owe and the name of who you owe money to is carved on it in case some mishap happens to either the debt holder or the debtor."

So that was how the tailor had known she had a debt, it was plain for everyone to see.

"I see. So you owe money to someone."

"Yes."

"And this is what upset you?"

"No, not really."

What was it then? He was so sure it was because of that. There was still the part about her parents left but he had a hard time understanding how talking about ones parent could be upsetting.

"Then was it because she talked about your parents?"

"More on the point yes."

That was really it?

"Why?"

"I don't know and I don't want to talk about it sir Muracier."

She called him sir Muracier again. That felt odd every time. He should really tell her it was a borrowed name before something happened again. How was the best way to say it? Maybe the simplest way to explain it was to tell her how he had met Chinui but then he would have to talk about his creators.

He had told her earlier that he would tell her about them only if she agreed to tell him why she hated nobles. He didn't want to go back on what he had said, Love had asked him to become someone trustworthy. He couldn't go back to the tailor shop for the same reason he couldn't tell her about his creators, simply because he did not feel someone trustworthy would do this. It would be the same as lying.

But on the other hand, was it not worse to let everyone believe he was the son of Chinui? He hadn't done a lot to deny it, was that not a form of lie too? Which was worse between breaking his words and leaving the misunderstanding about his identity continue? The later sounded worse in his head but Chinui did after all lend him his name to let him pretend he was a Muracier in the school. He had been allowed to lie about this, in a way. Was there really such a thing as an acceptable lie? A feint in combat maybe?

It would be much easier for him if she just told him why she hated noble. Then, he wouldn't have to ask himself which of the lies didn't feel as bad.

"Will you tell me why you hate nobles then?"

"No! Why would I have changed my mind?"

Why not? Why was this such a bothersome thing to explain?

"I do not know, I just really wanted to tell my story but I already told you that I would do it only if you told me that."

"Right, the Muraciers can't break their words."

But he wasn't a Muracier! That was the whole problem! The only thing he could do now was to follow her to the next place, unable to understand what was wrong with his guide and unable to clear up the misunderstanding about his name.

They both stayed silent until they reached a large store filled with clothes. The outside had nothing special and its sign was just a drawing of a tunic. The place felt cramped by how tightly packed all those clothes were. They all looked alike, the owner must have made as many as he could as quickly as he could. From what he understood from Galana, many people living outside of big cities just made their own clothes. It was only those who had no talent at it that bought already made clothes and often, when they did, they bought old clothes that had been patched up in some second hand store.

In the city though, most people chose to buy clothes like what was in this store in order to not waste time. Then, you only had to thinker with it a bit instead of making it from the ground up which was a lot quicker.

Emp though, did not know how to do that kind of thing so he only intended to wear them as they were. None of them had buttons because the shop owner didn't bother to make any shirts or pants needing some. All the clothes here were made from cotton or wool, none of them were dyed and they came in a variety of sizes.

"Will this really be all right?" Asked Galana, probably still upset about his retreat from the tailor's place.

"Yes, as long as they are not ripped, they will do the job."

Emp understood that something made by that tailor should be of a much higher quality than what was sold here but he did not really care. Of course he didn't want to look like an idiot but those were not that bad and even if they had been, he would not have cared that much. His life would not be forfeited or saved by some cloth. At least, he didn't believe so. Also, he was really glad no one was here to drown him in questions he could not understand.

"But they are way too plain for a noble. And, you don't know how to fix that, I'm sure because if you did, you would have repaired your old clothes instead."

"No calamity will befall me because my clothes are not spectacular enough. Plus, I am still planning to leave today, I do not have the time to wait for someone to embellish a thing that will probably not survive the journey to Bêtéclair."

She reluctantly nodded in agreement and Emp started walking through the rows of tunics. To see what exactly was the size he needed, Emp removed his own and moved it around in the shop, placing it over the many hanging shirts as he searched for a similar one. Galana seemed really annoyed by his action.

"Idiot! Could you not just pick another one from your bag? Why must you remove the one you are wearing!"

At least she was back to calling him an idiot.

"I do not understand why it matters, all their sizes are the same."

"I'm saying that there is no point in flaunting your body if you look like that. You're just a scrawny kid!"

He wasn't flaunting anything though, he was just looking for the right size of clothes. In the end, he bought twelve new tunics and six new pair of pants.