Simon watched as Nidal gracefully handled the floating needles of gold, slowly turning his eyes with each new motion of the glorious spectacle before him. With each motion of Nidal's fingers, a thread would come into place, leaving only a feeling of pure satisfaction in the eyes of any who would have watched. Only pure technique and experience could make such a thing happen. As it seemed, Nidal is indeed a master of his craft, perhaps the best of the demon world.
"What do you think about a silky red coat with furs to comfort your neck?" Nidal gently asked.
"That seems very appealing, please continue with your hard work." Simon responded.
"As you say."
Nidal quickly finished his spectacular display as a red coat appeared in front of Simon in the mere moments it took for him to respond.
"A fine piece, but not the finished piece. I still need the pants, the undergarments, all of it." Nidal declared.
"Let's go with simple black pants, of course made with my high quality silks. Nothing is ever half done in my shop." Nidal continued as a line of black silk threads started to spew out from the walls.
"Don't worry, black silks are much more volatile before I form them into a piece, just watch and relax, my valued customer."
"As you say."
Nidal then span his body as a small cyclone of black silk enveloped him and formed a constantly spinning cocoon.
"Done."
And the silks had formed into a pants just like that, leaving Simon slightly confused.
"Don't worry, it's just been that many years that I have been in this line of work. No one truely appreciates this art better than me. I don't say this to brag, but it is rather obvious that these pants are the work of a master."
"Also, I have already made your shirt and undergarments." Nidal said as he directed his right hand to a floating group of excellently refined clothing.
"As for shoes, I'm no cobbler. So I regret to inform my dear valued customer that I can only provide you with a standard pair."
"Sometimes it is good to acknowledge one's limitations, it leads to more satisfaction in what we already have." Nidal joyfully explained as he gathered the newly made set of clothing and folded them into a pile.
"As for protection, trust me. The work of a master doesn't rip from a mere cut."
In all honesty, Simon only came to the town in particular, because of this one shop. Everything else felt somewhat irrelevant to him, he didn't need anything from the town except for this masterwork clothing set, and his own custom fitted headwear. On top of that, Simon desired for a place to relax away from home; a a warm and cosy land of friendly faces and interesting stories.
And of course, there are plenty of interesting stories to be told, and Simon wanted to hear each and every one of them.
"Now then, why don't we move on to the real experience!" Nidal exclaimed.
"I haven't found a worthy enough customer in years, perhaps decades even. It's just been so long since a devil has impressed me with their minds and aura."
"But before we go in, I must tell you what a devil's headwear truely symbolises and provides."
Nidal finally sat down on a nearby cushioned stool as he fell into a short but deep contemplative pose.
"Each piece is provided with the very blood of it's wearer. Once the blood is given, the piece is always theirs. But headwear doesn't do anything for a devil except for letting them unleash an alter-ego or to show off their wealth. In any case, headwear is purely societal."
Simon nodded in response to this, pretending not to know anything on the topic.
"The devils of the Reaper house tend to go for an unpainted metal piece, usually more like a delicate tiara, rather than a cowl, mask or helmet. These pieces usually require rare diamonds, which the Reaper house provide, themselves. As to why their headwear are unpainted? You must ask their founder."
"Their founder had a particular problem with colours as it seemed. Who would have thought that a Blood Monarch could possess colourblindness?!" Nidal laughed as he stroked his hair.
"Well, it is not my place to insult such legendary figures, but devildom could have been much better without the power struggles. And that's exactly the reason I started this shop."
"Politics are far too boring."
"O! and we are already inside the my headwear station." Nidal abruptly declared as he pointed out that they had in fact travelled to a different room.
"I don't remember walking out..."
"Of course you didn't, that's the point. Mystery makes customers wonder, wonder makes customers come back."
'Wow'
Simon finally took his time to look around him. He had in fact been transported to an infinitely tall circular room, with an uncountable amount of wooden shelves built into the black marble walls. Each shelf could be considered a ring, and each ring could be considered a category. Simon saw golden animal masks, war helmets, circlets, and much more.
What made him surprised was the way that the room felt larger than what he had imagine din the novel, it seemed infinite almost.
Every piece were where they should be, and every shelf was clean and without a spec of dust.
"My mask is called 'Red Sunrise'. It represents new beginnings and the forgotten memories of the past. It's my attempt at poetry." Nidal grinned as he pulled a a glowing yellow circular mask from the bottom shelf.
"I plan on making the perfect make for you. I already know exactly how to shape it, what colour it should be, and how I will design it. Just remember, the piece is part of you, don't think that an angel can wear Death's crown. Death's crown will change."
In the span of merely half an hour, Simon felt like he had experienced more than enough for his childhood. The atmosphere was homely, and it left him amazed.
"I have decided a mask is perfect for you."
"It will reflect the desire to forget about the unwanted."