Authors: Jeffrey Johnson
He shouted the measurements to the woman, and then climbed back into the box and retracted the plank before he was brought back to the ground.
“Now, rider,” said the saddlemaker, “the only other measurements we need are yours.” He grabbed a different ruler that measured in inches and measured Areli’s height, waist, hips, and inseam, relaying them to the woman holding the chart.
“Very well, rider,” said the man, “your saddle will be done in the next couple of days. I’ll be there when it’s ready, to make sure there is no slippage.”
Areli thanked the saddlemaker and waited for him to disappear. He was promptly replaced by the bridle maker and then the bit maker. The bridle maker was a woman with long dark grey hair with a streak of wispy white traveling on a few strands that stretched down to her hips. She worked quickly, grabbing measurements of Kaia’s neck, as well as distances from mouth to chest and shoulders. Like the saddlemaker, she also had a woman assistant who wrote down everything she said. When she came back from the ladders she used to get the measurements, she unfurled charts and started on the sketches based on Kaia’s dimensions, visually putting the right amount of slack that should be available to Areli during any given command.
When the bit maker arrived, he quickly got a mold of Kaia’s teeth and talked in-depth with Areli about her dragon’s bit history – what types she had used, what style she was using now, and which ones Kaia was most comfortable with. The man got on a ladder and took further measurements of Kaia’s mouth and then had his sketch artists get life-size drawings for him to work with later. He approached Areli and went over some of the initial thoughts he had. He told her that when the saddle and bridle were prepared, they would go to the training area, and he would bring different bits to try out based on what he saw and what she told him.
After the man bid her farewell, Areli loaded her dragon back into the trailer, and they traveled back through the large hallways, past trailers and guards, and servants on horseback, all the way back to the stall room. There, Areli realized that none of the Hall riders had returned from training. Jealousy struck her heart like a knife, and it was mixed with anger and frustration as well. Her dragon was without any conditioning or training for the past month, and in the next couple of weeks, she was going to be asked to perform in front of the Hall trainers.
She felt as if she was buried beneath an avalanche for weeks, surviving on nothing but roots and snow, and then asked to run the length of the Emperor’s lake against a healthy, well-fed girl that had done nothing but train for the event for years. If the Emperor would have left her her saddle and tack, she could be out there amongst her teammates, training and conditioning Kaia, so when they had their first official team practice, she could run at a hundred percent. But the Emperor was too proud. It was the same pride that drove him to chase after Degendhard. The pride that was destroying his own Empire.
Areli led Kaia into her stall, petted her and kissed her on the nose, and then called for a servant to have the cook prepare for her dragon a treat. The servant went through a long list from memory of all the varieties and cuts of meat she could have prepared. Areli picked the leg of cow. She was then asked what seasonings she wanted, followed by what sauces she thought her dragon would like best.
“They actually prepare sauces?” asked Areli.
“Yes, miss,” said the servant, “don’t they have that in Sector D?” Areli shook her head. The servants eyes widened in surprise. “Well, we have a lovely assortment.” And the servant went through a long list of hot, tangy, and sweet sauces. Areli asked him which one they seemed to like the most. He told her it depended on the dragon.
Areli liked tangy and was confident Kaia would like that as well. Moments later, a cart came from one of the side doors opposite the stalls. The smell of beef stung her stomach, reminding her just how hungry she had become. The servant carted it towards Areli, and she then fed it to her dragon. Kaia devoured it in a matter of seconds. Areli patted her dragon on the shoulder and kissed her on the nose again, and then stood outside the bars, keeping her eyes on Kaia until the stall doors were secured.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, girl,” said Areli through the bars, “dream of winning while I’m gone.”
Areli’s carriage was called, and she and her driver headed to the locker rooms.
The last thing that she had to do at the boarding facility that day was get fitted for her riding attire. The carriage entered into a large hallway with indented squares covering the entirety of the walls and ceilings, in the middle were beautiful paintings of dragons. The hallway emptied into the trailer room, which had thundercloud marble floors and giant pillars that stretched from the floor to the ceiling.
The carriage took a right and travelled down another enormous hallway with an arced ceiling and windows on the top letting natural light leak in. They entered onto a large limestone bridge with dragon statues bordering the sides. The bridge overlooked two giant running tracks and a weight area on the left and large lap pools on the right. At the end of the bridge was a guarded platform, as only authorized people were allowed into the locker area.
The guards waved them ahead after they looked at Areli’s paper, allowing the carriage to circle the width of the stone platform and stop in front of enormous doors. Again a red carpet was rolled to Areli’s cab door. A young woman opened the doors to the platform and waited for Areli to walk over to her.
Inside the doors, Areli was surrounded by lanterns and tall tapestries that hung from the ceiling. They emptied out of the large receiving area and into a circular room with three different doors. The one on the left was white-gold, and meant for the Academy riders, while the one on the right was made from a combination of rare trees, skymore and amople, and used for the under-aged, unwanted, and untested. The door in the middle was gold, a dragon molded into the upper and lower part of it and used for Hall riders.
She followed the woman through the middle door and into a hallway reminiscent of the Emperor’s palace. They passed marble columns that stood in guard of multiple double doors, and then they walked into a large white room. Gigantic crystal chandeliers hung impossibly from a ceiling that rose to the heights of the skies. The floors were wood with marble edges with a large rug, depicting dragons, sprawled out in the middle. There were couches and chairs with golden legs and dragons flying on their rich cream fabric. Elegant large mirrors, honey brown tables, and marble fireplaces also embellished the room.
Areli and the woman continued through the room and into yet another cavernous and elegant room. The walls were a greyish green, complete with dragon patterns soaring across them. Eight large double-door entrances, completely mirrored with stylish trim and fortified by two tall, honey, marble pillars inhabited the room. Four entrances to a wall. One facing another. Placed above each door were two molded dragons, working together to hoist a single large gold plate.
Areli followed the woman to the last room on the right. As she looked up at the plate held by the dragons above the frame, she saw that it was a name plate. Her heart skipped in her chest as she saw that on its surface, her name was beautifully written in an elegant script.
Inside the room, the walls were a dark cream with detailed pillars flowing floor to ceiling. The first thing Areli saw was the large mirror that nearly scaled the entire wall opposite the entrance doors. It sat above a richly detailed dresser, made of the darkest woods with the most elaborate details, placed in such a way that the mirror almost seemed connected to it.
Two chairs sat on either side of the dresser, and in the center of the room, facing the travertine fireplace, was an elongated couch. Behind the couch was a vanity that matched the dresser, with two bare racks, used for clothing, on each side of it. The woman instructed Areli to sit down and she would inform the seamstress of Areli’s arrival.
Areli took a seat onto her couch, and it felt like falling onto a cloud. She ran her fingers along the smooth fabric, which felt like grazing the surface of water in a bubbleless bath. And then she quickly stood up when the seamstress presented herself.
Like all people that inhabited the city of Abhi, her make-up was layered on so thick that any recognition of her age was a complete guess. She had a smile that was soft but judging, and she greeted Areli with a voice as arrogant as the Emperor’s. She instructed Areli to step closer to the fireplace.
The woman approached the dresser, holding a small purse in her hands. She laid it down and opened it, revealing a measurer. She looked back at Areli and smiled her condescending smile, which was all too familiar with stylists in this place.
“Clothes off my dear,” said the seamstress.
As Areli stripped down, she wondered if before she found this position the seamstress had to endure the hardships that Emilee had to live through day-in and day-out at the palace. Areli kicked her pants next to the couch, ready to be judged further.
“Everything, darling,” said the seamstress with a smile. Now, besides her parents, there were eight people who had seen her naked.
She moved around Areli’s naked body with her measuring tape, as if to take her measurements with only her eyes, and then Areli felt soft material touch her skin. She held her breath as the woman’s soft hands measured the length of her arms, legs, width of her hips, waist, and the length and width of her feet. The seamstress extracted the diameter of Areli’s arms and legs, finalizing the measurements for both the upper and lower body.
“Chin up dear,” said the seamstress, as she measured the length and thickness of Areli’s head. The seamstress went back to the dresser and pulled a piece of folded parchment from one of the drawers. She then licked her fingers and pulled a quill from her jacket, tip already black with ink, and started to scribble onto the paper, pausing only once to lift her head in thought. She tucked back her quill, placed the parchment next to her purse, and turned to smile at Areli.
“Wait right here, darling,” she said, as she made her way towards the door. She poked her head out, and Areli could hear her lofty voice talking to someone. She returned with a rack of white-leather outfits roughly-stitched with heavy black stitching, and her assistants followed behind her carting racks of gold armour and mannequin heads with leather caps.
She brought the racks next to Areli and started to leaf through them.
“No,” said the seamstress, talking to herself, “oh, absolutely not . . . oh, Priscilla you silly girl, you know better . . .” Areli looked over at the seamstress’s assistants, who avoided all eye contact with her and tried to absorb everything that the seamstress was doing, as if their eyes and ears were sponges.
“Oh, this,” said the seamstress, looking back at Areli over her shoulder, “this could be it . . . yes, maybe.” She pulled the suit from the rack and instructed Areli to get into it, and then her eyes traveled back to her assistants. “Well, just don’t stand there – help her!” The two young girls scrambled to Areli’s side, their hands fumbling and debating to what exactly they should do. “Oh you two are absolutely useless,” said the seamstress, “if I would have known you two would be as helpful as one of those gold statues, I would have kept you outside.”
She pushed the two girls out of the way, instructing them that being a seamstress required tactile hands, soft fingers, and a complete eye for balance and detail, as she easily glided Areli’s legs into the soft leather.
The seamstress’s hand reached behind and asked one of the useless dragon statues to fetch her a belt. She wrapped it over her shoulder, like a soldier his bow, and continued onto the second piece of the suit. She slid a roughly-stitched, single-piece, leather top with full sleeves and an open-back over Areli’s fingers, her hands, and then her arms, with the delicacy of a servant caressing skin with a soft sponge full of soap bubbles. She positioned the shirt evenly across Areli’s torso, attached it with loose ties to the pants, and then brought it all together by tying the strings in the back, using deft fingers that felt as if they were never there.
She pulled the belt from her shoulder and placed it around Areli’s waist, making sure the pants would hold, and snapped her fingers for the cantankerous assistants to bring over the two racks of armour. She shrieked to herself excitedly as her fingers picked up a sizeable piece of metal. Her eyes traveled back to Areli, examining her breasts and shoulders. The seamstress confirmed to herself that this was the one.
She placed the armour over Areli’s shoulders, the metal covering only the upper half of her torso. However, there were additional thick leather-like scales that extended off the metal to protect her ribs and spine. The seamstress wrapped the three straps, connected to the spine protector, around Areli’s abdomen to hold the scales securely to her back.
The seamstress had Areli move her arms and twist her back until she was content with her mobility. She then went back to the racks and began tapping her lips with the tips of her fingers as she stared at several marble mannequin heads that wore white leather, black stitched, head gear.
She grabbed one and approached Areli, but before putting on the leather object, she put Areli’s hair in a ponytail. She placed the leather over Areli’s head and tightened the strap underneath her chin. She made sure Areli’s head had a full range of motion. The seamstress’s lips curled into a smile as she backed away and had Areli twirl. Satisfied, she had her assistants take everything off, had Areli dressed, and informed the rider that her competition suit and practice gear would be in her locker before week’s end. Before the seamstress left, she took one final look at Areli’s overwhelmed expression.