Splitting up from the other three Champions, Remie led the wary and anxious trio through the city. They trudged along in silence before Charlie asked a familiar question.
"Who are all these people? They're not all Champions, are they?"
Remie chuckled, glancing to Cleo. They both thought back to the time the two of them had a conversation that started almost the exact same way.
"No, they're not," Remie said, returning the occasional wave or nod of recognition from passersby. "Some came to support the cause. Some couldn't care less, they just wanted to live somewhere other than Cenilorn."
"Is the city that bad?" Andy asked.
"Is any city that bad?" Remie countered. She shrugged. "It depends on what side of the city you live in. Where you grow up, What you've got. Some people just wanted a fresh start. They've helped us build a community here."
Cleo spent the rest of their walk daydreaming about each person they passed. What their story was and what drove them away from the big city. She wondered how many of them were actually here to support the Goldari, how many really believed in them. She couldn't imagine any of them wouldn't. Then again, there was a whole city of people who didn't.
Soon enough, Remie stopped in front of a two story cream building with arched windows and a small silver knocker adorning the door. After Remie used it to knock three times, a stout old couple opened the door.
The woman, her eyes enlarged behind thick spectacles, reached up and attempted to flatten her gray curls. She beamed at her guests.
"Hello! Yes, they said you would be coming 'round today, right on time, of course." She patted the man next to her on the shoulder. "Let them in, honey."
The man squinted at them, his lips pressed together as if trying to keep liquid from trickling past them. He wrinkled his large nose and retreated back into the house, leaving the door open and grunting, "Ach, not again."
Cleo, completely lost, raising her eyebrows towards Remie, who was gazing into the home with an amused smile and an expression of wistful recognition. She led the hesitant trio into the house.
"Good to see you again, too," Remie said with a grin at the man now settling himself into a large armchair. He returned his own not altogether unfriendly nod and hint of a smile.
The home they entered was a roomy space, clean and cozy. The living room they walked through had a crackling fireplace and a rustic coffee table in front of the couch and armchair. The woman popped her head around a corner up ahead. "This way! Everything is upstairs."
The couple seemed like the epitome of the grumpy-cheery dynamic couple of grandparents.
"What in the world are we doing here?" Charlie hissed to Cleo, who shrugged helplessly.
They trailed behind Remie as she led them through the house. For once, she seemed to be enjoying their confusion and satisfied that the next few moments were a surprise.
They stopped in a huge workshop, one that probably took up half the house by itself. One wall was covered top to bottom in fabric; shelves and selves of every sort of fabric organized neatly in an impressive rainbow. Another wall was covered in tools and sewing materials; everything from rulers to rotary blades were hung up on the wall, everything from buttons to zippers to sequins arranged in containers. The third wall was lined by a table holding three different sewing machines, each growing in size and complexity. Above the machines was a large cork board covered in drawings and sketches of every kind of clothing. Fancy evening gowns, dressy suits, uniforms, even sleepwear, all planned out in rough pencil with notes here and there in small, precise handwriting. An island sat in the center of the room, the surface made of cutting board material with measurements on each edge.
Next to the door they entered through was a set of stairs leading up to the second floor. It was too dark to make out what was upstairs.
"Am I dreaming?" Charlie whispered in awe. They looked as if they had just stepped into a pocket of personal paradise.
The woman who had been leading them hobbled over to the center table and began to straighten it out; returning tools to their homes, piling even more sketches, and tossing scraps into a bin underneath.
She chuckled at Charlie's reaction. "No, dear, this is real. I hope you find something you like upstairs."
Cleo was getting both nervous and immensely curious about whatever lay upstairs.
"Should they head up now?" Remie asked the woman, nodding towards the staircase.
"Yes, yes, of course," the woman replied. She straightened out her t-shirt and walked over to them. "How rude of me, I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Marlowe, pleasure to meet you all." She shook each of their hands with both of her own. The trio introduced themselves, although it seemed that Marlowe already knew them.
"I do hope you find something perfect," she said. Gesturing upstairs, she told them, "There's a curtained area for you to change, and I'm sure Remilda would be more than happy to help you."
"I'll do my best," Remie said, her smile never leaving her lips.
"I'll leave you to it, then," Marlowe said, stepping back and shooing them up the stairs. As usual, Cleo took the front, climbing the stairs into the mysterious second floor.
When she reached the top, she heard a call from below, "There's a light switch on the wall to your right!"
Cleo fumbled around on the wall and found the small switch. Flicking it on, seeing the room made her jaw drop.
Rack and racks of clothes of all kinds. Gowns in every color, suits of every kind, jackets and slacks of every size. On one side of the room, three squares were curtained off to create dressing rooms.
Cleo wandered forward through the rows of exquisite clothing, running her hand over the racks and examining the occasional dress. By the stairs, Charlie stood paralyzed with shock while Andy stood next to them, grinning like mad. Remie had to push them forward into the room so she could climb off the stairs.
"You've really outdone yourself recently, Marlowe!" she called down the stairs.
"Thank you, dear!" Marlowe's soft voice barely drifted up the stairs.
Remie faced the trio, placing her hands on her hips. "So. See anything you like?"
Charlie's jaw dropped further, if that was possible. "You mean..." they trailed off, surveying the room.
"You guys up for a fashion show?" Remie responded, clearly loving this.
"Did she make all this herself?" Cleo called from behind a rack of suits in every color and style.
"Marlowe? Well, she has help, but I'd guess she does the most work. She's the best there is."
"What are we waiting for?" Andy demanded, striding into the array of clothes with absolute delight.
They spent the better part of half an hour wading through all the choices, occasionally holding something up to get the others' opinions. It was a welcome distraction. For a time it felt normal, back before the events of the week unfolded. It was like an average Friday afternoon, hanging out and talking about nothing in particular.
After a comment on time from Remie, the trio took a dressing room each. They all heaved a pile of their top choices, agreeing to come out at the same time to show off their options.
It was just like a movie montage, coming in and out of the dressing room in widely different outfits and earning nods or disapproving shakes of the head each time. Some outfits were meant to get a laugh or a cringe, some a gasp or an ooh. Remie served as their sort of judge. She sat on a wooden chair in front of the dressing room with her legs crossed, taking on a position she seemed highly amused with.
Andy found her perfect fit first.
"Guys, this is totally it!" she announced from behind the drawn curtain. Cleo and Charlie raised their eyebrows at each other, each in disappointing attire that looked far better on a hanger.
Finally Andy ripped open the curtain with a dramatic swish and stepped out for the rest of the group to admire.
She was right, this was totally it.
The two-piece ensemble fit Andy perfectly. The blood orange top wrapped around her shoulder to show off her collar, bands of fabric continuing to wrap across her torso until it came together in a smooth, honey colored silk shirt. The skirt started just below it, leaving a thin line of midriff exposed. The waist matched the blood orange of the top while the rest of the ankle-length, empire style skirt was that same honey color. A slit ran up the left side, revealing her leg up to just above the knee.
"Andy, you look..." Charlie started, shaking their head slightly as they stared, "amazing. Stunning."
"Thanks, Charlie," Andy replied, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. And... Did Cleo catch her blushing?
"It's perfect," Cleo agreed, unable to suppress a smile at her friends.
"Ooh, one more thing, just a sec!" Remie hopped off her judge's chair and crossed the room, disappearing down the stairs to the workshop.
Silence returned when it was just the three of them. Cleo's mind began to wander before Andy spoke in a quiet voice with a small smile.
"You can stop staring now, Charlie."
It surprised Cleo to see Andy like this. She was always so confident and comfortable, especially as the center of attention. It was the reason she was a great speaker, and almost always won arguments; she was clever and articulate. Now, while she was stilled poised and self-assured, her smile held nerves, her eyes never staying in one place.
Charlie's eyes widened, and they overcorrected by looking across the room. "Oh, yeah. I wasn't... you know."
Cleo couldn't stand it anymore. Her friends made it so hard sometimes, she couldn't help it.
She burst into a fit of laughter. First a small snicker, but it grew into a full, uncontrollable burst of giggles. She clamped a hand over her mouth and closed her eyes to stop tears erupting over her face. She bet she looked ridiculous, and her friends stared at her like she had gone mad.
"What happened here?" It was Remie's voice, back from her trip downstairs.
"No idea," Charlie said.
"Cleo, you okay?" Andy asked, concern and second-hand amusement filling her voice.
Cleo nodded, wiping her eyes and regaining control of herself. She really didn't know what had overtaken her, but it felt great to laugh like that, carelessly, surrounded by her hilariously oblivious friends.
"Yup," she said between a last couple giggles. "Just fine, don't worry about it."
Everyone looked skeptical, but decided to ignore Cleo's outburst.
"Anyways..." Remie held up a necklace and a pair of gloves she had retrieved from the workshop. "Here, these'll complete the look."
Cleo helped clip on the necklace; a choker that had silver and gold bars emanating outwards like a metallic sun. Andy slipped on the matching orange and honey gloves that reached just past her elbow. She definitely looked ready to attend a fancy ball.
As Andy joined Remie in front of the dressing rooms like an audience, Charlie and Cleo continued the search for the perfect outfit.
Cleo found it next.
"That's it," Remie declared.
Cleo turned around, peering back at the small mirror leaning against the wall in the dressing room, then back to her judges.
"You think so?"
"Definitely. You look perfect."
Cleo returned her warm smile, their eyes meeting for a moment. Cleo felt glad Remie was here, helping them in their quest for the perfect thing to wear. She beamed at the fact that she was standing in front of her, in a gorgeous dress, hearing her compliments.
After Andy scoured the room for a minute and added a sheer, white cardigan, Cleo examined the final product.
It was a simple, spaghetti-strap dress with a scoop neck that opened into a pleated ankle length skirt. The whole ensemble was a beautiful cool gray that morphed into a deep royal purple by her feet. There was a band around her waist surrounded above and below by intricate lace in the same purple. She had to admit it; she looked good.
"Come sit, I'll do your hair."
Cleo took Remie's seat, allowing her to stand behind Cleo and create a French braid in the center of her hair, ending in a half-up half-down look. Remie's fingers weaved the hair over and under as Cleo squeezed her teeth and refused to say anything about her tangled hair.
It took Charlie a couple more tries, alternating between dresses and different kinds of suits before they found something that was immediately, unanimously perfect.
They decided on a jumpsuit in a light sky blue that perfectly complemented their deep olive skin. The boat neck top flowed down to a silver belt and continued down to wide-leg pants with a stripe of navy blue around the ankle. With it they wore a fitted navy jacket with slits on either side of their hips, as well as their usual array of necklaces.
Stepping out of the last dressing room, Charlie spun in a circle, flicked their jacket out behind them, and stuffed their hands in their pockets. They looked absolutely radiant, a wide grin across their face.
It might have been the first time they had been truly happy and content in about a week. Everything about this ball and this new society made them nervous for a number of reasons, but standing in the most amazing outfit they have ever had, beaming at their two best friends... all that was forgotten for a blissful moment.
After a couple minutes trying to pick out shoes that were nice but possible to run in if need be, Cleo and her friends were ready to attend a ball. Physically ready, anyways.
Remie waited for Charlie and Andy to climb down the stairs before stopping Cleo so they stood in the attic room alone. They could hear faint bits of conversation between the other two and the revered seamstress drifting up the stairs.
"I have something I wanted to give you before you go," Remie said.
Cleo frowned. Not because of her words, but because of her eyes, the deep worry and trepidation when she looked at Cleo.
Remie produced a silver watch from her pocket. It was simple enough, a matte adjustable band and a clear crystal face showing the times as tick marks. The two clock hands glowed ever so slightly, as most things did in this world.
Cleo took it gingerly from Remie's outstretched hand, examining it closer in her palm. She stayed silent, awaiting further explanation or reason for the small present.
"This one's made special," Remie explained, "so it'll work when you're in Cenilorn. Didn't really think about how to tell when it's midnight, did you?"
"Oh." Cleo smiled down at the watch in her hand. She definitely hadn't thought of that. The plan was going great already. Looking back into Remie's eyes, she couldn't help but be concerned and wary of Remie's sudden worry. "Thanks. For everything."
"It's been my pleasure," Remie answered, covering her worry with a warm smile. Then she started down the stairs.
Cleo stood there for a moment, letting dread pour through her insides. If Remie was worried, something was definitely wrong. And yet... she trusted her mentor fully. The week they spent together had made Cleo believe in her wholeheartedly and she trusted her judgement. She knew Remie would always tell her what she needed to know, tell her like it is. So she was able to tell herself that the worry she saw in Remie's eyes was just the usual concern, nothing to worry about.
But some of that dread lingered as she followed the stairs back down to rejoin her friends.