Dakelo. (Book 2 of the White Lily Trilogy)

Chapter 24- Going their own ways.

    “What do you want?” the daqom asked. Dakelo was told to visit the strange creature an hour ago, but it took him the whole hour to even find the hidden chamber. He went to visit the sealers yesterday to ask about the issues concerning his clothes. He was limited in battle to two forms, due to the fact he always ripped through his clothes through changing. It was also a burden to be carrying clothes on him, or asking anyone to carry extra for his sake. They told him they would address the issue and ask a thing called a daqom for help.

     Now he stood in a faintly light chamber, looking up at the creature high above his head, sitting comfortably in a thick web system that covered the entire ceiling. It looked like a giant silk worm, only with longer, spider-like legs.  It green eyes glowed in the darkness, all five of them, as its body pulsated in a wriggling mass.

   “I was told to see you about my clothes,” he told it.

   “Oh, you.”-It sounded bored- “I heard about you.” He wasn’t sure whether the creature was male or female, not even its voice could give any clue.

    “Did you make anything?”

     “I did.”

    “Well, can I have it?”

    “I guess so.” It replied lazily, but it made no further action to tell him. It started to knit the silk it produced from its abdomen using its lower legs, much like knitting needles. He was starting to get irritated from the lack of coherent answers. He waited a bit longer, but it went back to ignoring him.

   “Well?” he shouted up. The clack clack  of its legs stopped.

    “Well what?” Now it was its turn to be irritated.

    “Where is it?”

     It pointed to his left.

    “Over there.” He walked over and had a look. It was hard to see in the dim light, but he felt the texture of the cloth sat on a stone slab.

    “Will this work?” he asked it. He heard the clacking started up again.

    “What did you want it to do?” He growled at it.

    “I thought you were informed about the whole thing.”

    “I might have been.”

   “Will these clothes remain if I change my forms?”

   “It might do.” He decided it was best for him to try it out himself, since he wasn’t getting an obvious answer. Unperturbed by its presence, he swapped his clothes over. They looked near identical to the style he wore. Black trousers, white shirt and a leather vest over the top.

    Once he was dressed, he shifted forms, to his half-form, the biggest of the three. Unlike all the previous times, the clothes did not tear. He looked around, and they weren’t on the floor in pieces either.  He had to wait a few minutes before he changed back to find he was still wearing them.  He repeated the procedure a couple of times

   “They work,” he exclaimed, hardly believing that it could be possible.

    “Of course they would. I make everyone’s clothes, even her Highnesses’. These were tricky, took me longer than the others to weave, using my most special thread.”