The next day went mostly to plan, with us heading down to the coast in order to collect the last few things from Elenia’s list… Well, right up until the last mont anyway.
It was much like the day before, with Cattleya being the primary authority when it ca to any of the herbs, while Ava went around pointing out whatever caught her attention, just in case it was one of the things we were looking for.
That feeling that I had felt following us the day before was also nowhere near as pronounced as it was when we went through the forest. Instead of it being a constant, unyielding gaze, it was closer to being checked in on every few minutes. To be honest, the only real thing I had figured out since then was that whatever it was didn’t follow back into the town.
Ovia had also asked if Aria could check for anything that could have been causing the feeling, but she also agreed that there was nothing out of the ordinary around… while also ensuring to both Ovia and that there certainly weren’t any dragons around, though it was a little obvious that she made an effort not to use the words itself.
Once we were sure that we had gotten everything from the list, we had originally hoped to go visit Elenia straight away… although with a small detour before that to dip our feet into the sea at Ava’s request. Of course, no one disagreed, but as we were making our way down to the pebble beach, Cattleya’s skirt caught on a stray rock and she went tumbling down into the water.
Fortunately, she wasn’t hurt in any way… even if the sa couldn’t be said for her clothing. She even jumped out of the water herself, looking more like a startled cat than anything else. This did, however, force us to change plans, instead deciding that it would be better to head straight back to the inn and have everyone get cleaned up… particularly Cattleya, who quickly started complaining that she needed to get all the salt out of her hair.
When we actually arrived at the inn, Ava imdiately asked Daleia for the key to the baths, to which there were no protests. But, at least for , that was where things got a little uncomfortable… Ava asked to pull out clean clothes for the three of us as we stood in front of the door to the baths, and I imdiately realised that she was intending for the three of us to all go in together.
Which I wasn’t very keen on on account of the scar embedded across my back.
Thankfully, Ava realised what she was asking almost as soon as I did and suggested that I instead go wait in our room and she’d give the key once the two of them were done. I imdiately agreed to this arrangent, giving Ava two sets of clean clothes. She did, however, make wait at the door for her to hand off the old clothes to … including Cattleya’s ripped skirt.
And that’s what led to my current situation, sitting on the floor in our room, staring down at the torn skirt lying on the floor. With how long it took us to get back to the inn, it had already dried off completely, but that didn’t undo any of the damage… and for so reason, that frustrated in a way I couldn’t quite explain.
It was obvious what had happened, considering just how large the garnt was on Cattleya. It was a problem that couldn’t even easily be solved by wearing sothing else, as the selection Ava had pulled together… really showcased that her eye for sizing was just a little off.
…
…
Ana did give the sewing kit…
…
It was an inexplicable thought, but now that it was on my mind…
“Umbra,” I called out quietly, “Can you bring out the sewing kit… and maybe a pair of shears?”
Umbra quickly obliged poking their head out from inside my cloak with the items I had asked for already in their mouth. They then set them down on the floor, quickly jumping back into my shadow before I even had the chance to give them their usual scratches.
“Umbra?” I called out.
They didn’t respond.
Maybe I’m not the only one who’s been feeling a little unnerved lately.
…
There wasn’t anything I could do if Umbra chose to remain hidden in my shadow… so I didn’t have much of a choice aside from continuing with what I was initially planning on doing.
I moved the sewing kit into a more easily accessible position at my side before pulling the torn skirt into my lap to get a better look at the damage in question. The imdiately apparent thing was that it wasn’t a clean tear, with ragged edges and loose threads hanging all over the place, clearly worsened over the walk back.
No matter how I went about fixing it, so material would inevitably need to be removed… although that would probably be a good thing.
Of course, that was all assuming I could actually do anything to fix the tear in the first place. Back when Ana had given the supplies, she gave a quick explanation of what to do, but not much of a practical demonstration. To be honest, the one good thing about the situation was that even if I made a mistake and ruined the skirt, it wasn’t like we’d be in a worse situation. The skirt was already unusable in its current state, with a slit up the side revealing more than just too much. It was a miracle that it was still in one piece.
…
…
“The only thing I can do is start…” I mumbled to myself as I took up the shears and prepared to start cutting away at the material.
…
…
I held the shears in place, lined up and ready to make the first cut in an attempt to clean up the torn edge, but I hesitated a little. Not out of worry or fear or anything like that; it was more like… excitent bubbling up from inside of .
As the feeling reached its peak, I finally made the first cut, running the shears all the way from the hem up through the waistband before imdiately doing the sa along the other side.
…
I… should take so more off…
The thoughts easily ca to as I worked, quickly taking a bit more material away in order to tighten up the skirt around the waist when I eventually brought it back together. It should end up being much more comfortable than whatever complicated folds and ties Cattleya had to use before to stop it from falling down.
But why stop there?
The problem was that the hem of the skirt got caught… so why not bring that up a little?… or maybe a lot?
Before the thought had even finished crossing my mind, I had already started making the cut. Yet that wasn’t all, more ideas ca to my mind of what I could do, but I had to stop myself. All I had done so far was cut the poor thing up. For all I knew, I might have just ruined everything while getting ahead of myself.
So I set the shears down, instead picking up a needle and thread, prepared to bring the image in my head to life.
I threaded the needle with surprising ease before bringing the two edges of the skirt together, folding the seam inwards so it wouldn’t be seen and pinning it in place in preparation for my attempt at sewing.
At that point, there wasn’t anything else I could really do, so I pushed the needle through the fabric and… instantly pricked my finger, drawing only a single drop of blood, which I quickly licked off as not to stain my work before even really starting.
With that one small mishap aside… and maybe a second prick to my finger not long after… I finally started to get into a rhythm, the needle gliding effortlessly through the material, gracefully diving up and down through the sea of fabric waves.
My hands just moved by themselves. Sure, they were a little clumsy, but it didn’t take long for that to lt away. Not to say that the process was in any way quick, but that didn’t matter to . What was far more important was the excitent that followed each small stitch. A feeling that I had certainly felt before.
Back when Mom first gave my notebook, I had that feeling of picking up the pencil and sohow instinctively knowing what to do. This was the sa, maybe even better than that. My mind knew what it needed to do even though my body wasn’t quite capable; the needed dexterity just wasn’t quite there.
While lost in my trance, the main seam was secured, but that wasn’t any reason to rest. I needed to go back over the waistband and hem of the skirt now. There was no sense in taking half asures at this point. I’d already dived into the deep end and was loving it.
Once the final stitch was completed and secured, I lifted the skirt into the air and examined my work. It turned out pretty much exactly how I had imagined it… at least looking at it like I was. I knew that it wasn’t exactly perfect when it ca to my stitch work, but it was far more than what I was expecting when I first thought about picking up the needle.
If I can do this, then… What about all that fabric I bought?
Could it really be possible?
“Umbra?” I called out, “Can you bring out so of the plain fabric for ?”
It had to be sothing plain, not that special fabric I had gotten in hopes of putting sothing together for Ovia, not when she might be watching over .
Umbra promptly brought out a roll of dark blue fabric. This ti, I was fast enough to catch them before they retreated… not that they reacted in any way.
Alright.
Let’s do this.
I took the shears up into my hand once again, looking over the fabric in front of and…
Nothing.
…
The spark from before just wasn’t there for so reason, or maybe it was, but different. I was looking at all these possibilities laid out in front of , yet I couldn’t even figure out where to start.
A dress? A skirt? Oh! What about a blouse? I haven’t seen any in dark colours around here.
The idea’s kept on flowing, yet my hands refused to move. However, that might have been for the better, as it wasn’t much longer after that that there was a knock at the door, followed by Ava, as well as a slightly red Cattleya.
As quickly as I could, I rolled the blue fabric under my bed before showing my newly adapted skirt off to Cattleya.
But, I didn’t wait long enough to actually hear what she thought…
For so reason, despite how I felt about my work, showing it off to soone else like that was just embarrassing… especially with how little I hesitated before lifting it into the air.
So, in order to save myself, I took the key for the washroom from Ava and left the room, hoping that the warm water would help relax a little.
I enjoyed that… a lot.
…
That evening, even as I subrged myself in the water and let my body relax, I just couldn’t get all those ideas for what to do with the fabric out of my mind completely. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it were what my dreams were filled with that night.
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