Elara, still tidying the fallen shirts, peeked up from behind the counter and grinned. "I knew it! The moment I showed you that jacket, I said to myself, 'That Jacket is made for the boy!'"
Carasan chuckled. "Maybe You're not wrong, Elara."
It wasn't long, however, before the fuss over the jacket had died down, and Elara was quick to run and fetch some more pieces for Ember to try on. The next outfit was a brilliant three-piece suit: black with a red tie and a crisp white shirt. The shirt itself, Carasan had mentioned formal occasions, but Ember had never imagined himself in anything so. elegant.
Standing in front of the mirror once more, this time in the most impeccable suit, he barely recognized himself. Deep black fabric stood starkly at odds with his flame-colored hair. The white shirt was unbuttoned on the top few buttons, making a slight window to his chest, and the bright red tie added a dash of boldness to it. Elara, that whirlwind of energy, circled him, smoothing the jacket and adjusting the tie, all while rattling off tips on the proper care of such good clothes.
"Oh, you will turn some heads in this, that is for sure," she said as her fingers smoothed a wrinkle on his sleeve. "Now, don't you go spilling anything on it, all right? These fabrics are delicate, but I'm sure a fine young man like you will handle them with care."
Ember nodded even as he could already feel the anxiety creeping in. Nothing he'd ever worn was this expensive—if he ruined it, it'd make his current wardrobe disasters look like a joke, but worse: what if he tripped, fell, or—
"Elara, let the boy breathe," Carasan said, his tone light but commanding. "He's already overwhelmed."
Elara blinked, then laughed guiltily. "Oh, oh dear, I'm running away with myself, aren't I?" she said. "It's just. it's not every day I get to dress such a fine young man, you know? Most of the students go to those big shops anyway."
And so the shopping continued. Ember tried on various casual outfits—soft cotton shirts, finely tailored trousers. Each outfit felt like part of a new life that he had yet to fully accept, but with each new piece of clothing, slowly became more real. The casual suit was light and easy-moving, perfect for the Academy's rigorous physical trainings and yet comfortable enough for daily wear. Of this one set—a soft blue shirt paired with dark gray trousers—caught his particular eye. The colors were plain, but they reminded him of the sky and the storm, just perfectly befitting someone who now had an affinity with wind.
All the while, it seemed as though Elara's clumsiness never ceased entertaining. One such incident involved her stepping over a loose thread spool and sending a whole pile of fabrics flying into the air. The other time, she tripped over some tied rack and its sticks went writhing around her ankles, so close that almost had her getting tumbled upon the floor. But still, she recovered with laughter, but her cheeks were flushed bright red with embarrassment but spirit unbroken.
As they were finished, Ember was covered from head to toe in the finest threads Ember had ever seen, but something he hadn't felt in so long: hope.
Carasan grinned. "You'll be well-prepared for the Academy now. And, of course, you'll look the part."
Ember looked one last time at himself in the mirror as the black jacket with silver lining prominently sat across his shoulders.
Elara completed folding the last of Ember's new clothes, her movements more deliberate this time but still full of that trademark clumsiness. A few scarves almost fell off the counter as she shifted her weight, but just in time, with a small laugh, she caught them. "Well, that's the last of it," she announced, her cheeks flushed from both the exertion and her constant state of near-disaster.
Ember could not tear his eyes away from himself in the mirror. The black leather jacket, with silver lining, felt like armor rather than clothing. The cut of it was perfect, the silver thread shining, no more than embers glowing beneath dark ash. He straightened himself up a bit more upright and a bit taller, as if the weight of new life ahead of him sat upon his shoulders. The orphanage seemed like a million light-years away from now; he had been plucked from one reality and placed into another.
"You look like you are ready to take on the world," Carasan said, his voice laced with amusement but urging. He slid a hand onto Ember's shoulder, which made him feel a surge of comfort. "But remember, it's not all the clothes." He tapped Ember's chest lightly, over the shoulder of his racing heart. "All your power, potential.".
"I know," Ember said, his voice low, almost pensive. He had changed so much in such a short space of time. His legs, once useless, now carried him with strength. His body, once weak and frail, felt charged with an energy he never knew existed. And now, these clothes, a symbol of status, wealth, and a future, lay draped across him like some declaration of where he was in the world.
Finally, Elara got the scarves under control and leapt over to the register.
"Now, let's pay for the rest of this, she said with a wide smile still on her face. And don't worry, I'll give you a discount, Ember; you are going to make these clothes really look good."
Carlosan smirked as he pulled out the leather pouch again. "Generous of you, Elara, though I'm quite certain you're aware we don't need discounts."
Red deepened in her face. "Well, yes, but it's the thought that counts, right?"
As the business ended, Ember drifted toward the shop window. He looked out at the streets beyond. Everything felt larger now, more alive. His whole life—except this lone day—he had been confined to the walls of the orphanage, its cracked windows and dimly lit corridors. To watch strangers as strangers go about their lives was a wonder of itself.
"Ready?" Carasan asked, stepping beside him. The bags of new clothes—school uniforms, formal suits, casual attire—were already gathered neatly near the door.
Ember nodded, though part of him hesitated. It was overwhelming, all of it. The power, the clothes, the sudden shift in his life. But there was no turning back now. He could feel the flame within him burning brighter, pushing him forward.
As they left the shop, Elara waved enthusiastically. "Come back anytime! And don't forget to send pictures when you're all dressed up at the Academy! I'll want to brag to everyone that I clothed such a dashing young man, NOW NO ONE CAN SAY THAT ONLY OLD GUYS LIKE VAL COME TO MY SHOP!"
Ember smiled weakly. "Thanks for everything, Elara.".