Chapter 44, Hasty Retreat

Chapter 44, Hasty Retreat

Both George and Sam could only squint at Craig where he stood, back hunched slightly as if to hide from their gazes. It wasnt as though he was in civilian gear either, no, just beneath his floral-patterned shirt and light-brown khakis, one could clearly see the hard, modern armour pressing against the fabric. As if it couldnt be any more obvious, it was also pretty clear that he wasnt lugging around an oversized tennis-racket. He had his damn spear.

This is-, haha, um. Craig scratched behind his head, obviously flustered. Look, youre not supposed to see me, so may I just, like, leave?

Cryptic, but the three siblings stepped to the side. Craig spent no time loitering about, and as soon as he was out of the store, he was (by the smell of it) ushered away from the main hallways and into a smaller store. There, he met a collection of other people, who all smelt like metal and sweat. Kreig chose not to inform his siblings of this, since they both seemed content with ignoring what had just happened.

Kreig just felt a bit sad that Craigs arm had healed so nicely. No scraping bone-shards to be heard.

...Okay, so, George confidently wandered to the back of the store, here. Its a self-measuring station, although you can call for assistance if you require it. Since both I and Sam are at your disposal, that wont be needed. Just step over here and well do the rest. Kreig listened intently and moved over to where George had directed him. All things considered, he wouldnt need to do a thing. The source of this content nov(el)bi((n))

And he didnt. While Sam and George bickered over this and that, wrapping elastic rulers around his chest and midsection and hips, there was nothing he really had to do.

A familiar experience. It had been many years ago, but whenever he had armour to be forged or fine clothes to be tailored, hed be measured in a similar capacity. Though, at that time, the ones doing it were usually either a worker or the tailor himself. He wished he could remember what his measurements had been back then, but it had most likely changed by now.

...And as for height... Sam placed the end of her elastic ruler at Kreigs feet and tried to pull it to the very top. She was nowhere near tall enough to do this though, so she handed the end of it to Kreig, who understood the gesture well enough. With an arch of her back and a squint of the eye, she was able to get a good look at his height. -Holy cow! 248 cm! Yeah, well probably need to have a few things specially tailored

George was still reeling from what just happened, but he was still able to muster a response. We-, uh. I imagined something like this might happen, so I scouted out a nearby store that takes orders for strange clothes. Just down the street. Since Sam gave a thumbs-up, this was accepted. They continued walking. And yet, there was a sour taste in Kreigs mouth. If he took the time to smell for it, he could tell that those two officers hadnt left at all, merely reclaimed some distance.

Even more so, Craig was also about. At a safe distance, together with other people who smelled like that. If Kreig really looked for them, he could tell that there were about twenty, thirty such people prowling about. And that was just the nearest vicinity.

There was something off here, but since both George and Sam had decided not to consider it too deeply They must also know about it. And since Kreig was the only one not in-the-know, it must be about him. Not an attack, not anything like that. Just surveillance? Of him. Despite the fact that hed never hurt his siblings. And hed thought hed gained their trust, too. Youre free, Darius had said.

Perhaps so, but not entirely. Then again, he had never been truly free these past 130 years.

Alright, were here.

Since Kreig had nothing to say on what might look best on him, he fully allowed his brother and sister to decide for him. George seemed to argue for the modest, meaning that Kreig would clearly look best in a fine suit and an ironed shirt. Sam (who had no fashion sense), on the other hand, meant that the more colours, the better. She was wrong. In the end, the sensibly flustered shopkeep could only try to make some sort of peace between them by asking Kreig himself what he wanted to wear.

Since Kreig became silent as a rock at the mere mention of deciding what to wear for himself, the shopkeep must have assumed he was either mute or deaf or both. Either way, the responsibility returned to Sam and George.

A decision was made. 50/50 casual and formal and Kreig himself would choose what to wear on a daily basis.

And then, with the clothes done and ordered, they left the shop.