Having purchased the first suit, Ember did not think her sense of wonder died. Rather, it expanded. The moment Carasan reached into his pocket and produced a small leather pouch that was bursting with coins, and he pressed it to the tall woman named Elara, a clothier, Ember felt a sharp pang of embarrassment.
"These. are far too fine," he muttered to himself, pulling on the cuff of his sleeve a little, marveling at the precision of the stitching. He had never owned anything even remotely resembling finery. Clothes had been hand-me-downs in the orphanage until they barely held together. To suddenly be standing there in front of a mirror, dressed in such luxurious fabric, it felt. surreal.
Elara, her hands fumbling a little as she tried to wrap up the clothes Ember had tried on, flashed him a big grin. Her round cheeks flushed from trying to juggle fabric, measuring tape, and pins. She looked more like she belonged in some boisterous circus performance rather than in this prosperous shop, but her workmanship had proven top-notch.
"Oh, don't you fret, dear! These are only essentials. Trust me, if Carasan Val bought for somebody, he did not do it halfway." She smiled, tugging the wispy curl of silver behind her ear. Unfortunately, this made her miscalculate the positioning of the jacket, neatly folded on top of the counter, and it had slid onto the floor.
Oh, dear me!" She squeaked, bending down quickly to retrieve the garment. "Slippery things, aren't they?"
Ember couldn't help but chuckle. "I—I guess they are.".
Carasan, sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, smiled at Elara in a mildly pleased attitude. "We'll need school uniforms, formal and casual." He looked at Ember, amusement mixed with a purpose shining within his eyes. "We can't have you looking like a proper student endorced by me and then suddenly revert back to rags when some different occasion arises, now can we?"
Elara stiffened into a nod, nodding vigorously. "Oh, yes! Of course! Let me just.". She spins away, almost tripping over the trailing hem of her own skirt as she heads off towards the racks. Ember wasn't quite sure whether to let her keep on at such breakneck speed or offer help. Carasan doesn't raise an eyebrow.
"Now, the school uniform!" Elara called from behind a large display. After a few moments of scuffling, she re-emerged, arms laden with garments. "Here we are. Standard Academy attire. White shirt, blue blazer, gray trousers... And don't forget the tie!" She tugged at the blue-and-white-striped tie dangling from her wrist, though it took a moment to untangle it from a stray spool of thread.
This was to be your regular uniform," he said, pulling out the neatly folded set of the same and tossing it onto a chair by the window. "You will need at least three sets of these. The Academy's dress code is pretty strict, but I suspect you will want some extras—on top of all the sweat you will be dripping in.".
He tentatively reached out to touch the jacket, his fingers tracing the silky surface of the wool. "It's… really nice," he whispered, still disbelieving that this was all for him.
"Try it on!" Elara encouraged, her hands already on his shoulders, pushing him toward an adjacent dressing room. "Let's see how it fits."
With some hesitance, Ember stepped into the small room, sounds of fabric moving against the walls as he disappeared. It was strange, standing there amidst all the luxury. The mirror in front of him reflected a whole different person—but that was not a lad held back by physical limitations or mental hang-ups at all; instead, it was a handsome boy with a bright future ahead of him. The white shirt hugged his torso comfortably, and the blue blazer settled over his shoulders with surprising fluid ease. He felt the transformation even more inside when he stepped out. He was no longer the orphaned Ember that had struggled even to roll his wheelchair across the uneven floors of the orphanage.
"Well, well," said Carasan, his voice low with approval. "Look at you. Ready to take on the world."
Ember stood there, staring first at his reflection, then at Carasan. He didn't know what to say. "It fits perfectly."
Elara clapped her hands together, smiling. "Marvelous! Absolutely marvelous! You'll have all the girls swooning; you mark my words."
"Or fainting in fear of my hair," Ember muttered, grinning sheepishly. His red-orange locks still trailed down past his waist, a jarring contrast to the crisp, clean lines of the uniform.
"Oh, nonsense! It adds character!" Elara declared, brushing a bit of lint from his shoulder. "And speaking of character.".
She flung herself back to the racks, her fingers brushing over each texture with something akin to glee for one who had warned caution. She knocked a small pile of folded shirts off the end table, and they spilled across the floor. Elara bit her lips and scrambled after them as apologies spilled out faster than the shirts.
"Now, here's something really special," she breathed, lifting a sleek black jacket sporting intricate silver embroidery along the cuffs and collar. When Ember saw it, his breath caught. It was identical to the one he had admired much earlier.
Carasan moved forward, took the jacket from Elara, and examined it. "This one's yours," he said, handing it to Ember. "Consider it a gift. A hero needs some sort of signature look; something flashy once in a while is not so bad after all, and this. This is yours."
"Try it on; you want to see how it looks," Carasan said, finally his eyes twinkling as he took up the clothes. Ember ran his fingers over the silver thread, the way it shimmered in the light. He slipped it on, and instantly, he felt different. More powerful. More… himself. The jacket fit like it was made for him, the silver lining catching the light with every movement.
"How does it feel?" Carasan asked, his gaze steady, as if reading Ember's thoughts.
"It feels right," Ember said softly. "Maybe it's not so bad as I initially thought after all."