occasionally keeping them out until well after dark, until they could hardly tell who they were fighting anymore. Hayden was still years behind Lorn in terms of skill and technique, but he had made an enormous amount of improvement and was quite pleased with his overall progress. Despite Mrs. Trout’s willingness to help him improve in hand-to-hand combat, archery, acrobatics, or anything else he might show an interest in, Hayden couldn’t help but notice that she had never once suggested that he use the arena for magical combat, though the rest of the family practiced there daily. Apparently she still had some reservations about encouraging his skill with prisms, or else she just didn’t want to give him a magical upper-hand over her own family by helping him improve.
Either way, life had taken a definite turn for the better compared to his feelings when he first arrived. Hayden was therefore a little surprised when, on the night before his trial was set to take place in Kargath, Mrs. Trout knocked on his bedroom door just before Hayden planned on going to bed.
He opened the door, yawning, and struggled to keep himself awake; he hadn’t slept well for the last few days as the trial drew nearer.
“Am I supposed to be somewhere right now and I just forgot?” he asked Mrs. Trout in confusion, racking his brain to see what he missed, since she only visited him at night when she needed to criticize him for something.
“No, but as it’s the eve of your trial, there are a few last minute details that we need to see to before we send you off.” She stepped past him into the room without waiting to be invited, followed by an unusually tall man who was carrying a garment bag, a tape measure draped around his neck.
“Like what?” Hayden helped light a few gas lamps so they could see properly. Now that he looked at the man with the bag more closely, he recognized him—by profession, at least. “What do I need a tailor for?”
Mrs. Trout pursed her lips—typical when he asked questions that she considered moronic—and said, “You didn’t think you’d be presenting yourself to the Council of Mages in a t-shirt and too-short slacks did you?”
Hayden didn’t answer this, because it was obvious to both of them that that was exactly what he thought.
It’s not my fault I haven’t had the time or money to buy myself new pants since last year.
“Nothing will make them dismiss you so quickly as showing up looking like a teenage boy, asking for favors,” she continued without waiting for a response. “No, you must present yourself as a legitimate heir to a Great House and prove you are serious about your intention to step into that role.”
“Okay, that makes sense. Seems late to be bringing in the tailor though when the trial is tomorrow; if he’s got to make me an entire suit tonight that’s going to be cutting it close.” He ignored his own pun and hoped she would too.
“He won’t be making anything new, just doing a few alterations to existing garments if necessary.” She gestured towards the bag, which the tailor opened with flair, as though he was revealing a big treat.
To Hayden’s surprise, he found himself staring not at a suit, but at formal mage robes. He had never been permitted to wear them before, as there were clear rules about who could don them and on what occasions it was permitted; the closest he had come was wearing the team Mizzenwald robes during his second year at school for the I.S.C. These robes were such a pale blue as to be almost white, bordered by a thick black trim on all sides. The cuffs had some kind of fancy detailing on them that he couldn’t see properly just yet, because Mrs. Trout was handing him the accompanying shirt and pants with instructions to try them on.
She and the tailor stepped out of the room briefly, and Hayden slipped into the new clothing. The pants fit just right, but the top—which was long-sleeved and made of some kind of stiff fabric he’d never
Either way, life had taken a definite turn for the better compared to his feelings when he first arrived. Hayden was therefore a little surprised when, on the night before his trial was set to take place in Kargath, Mrs. Trout knocked on his bedroom door just before Hayden planned on going to bed.
He opened the door, yawning, and struggled to keep himself awake; he hadn’t slept well for the last few days as the trial drew nearer.
“Am I supposed to be somewhere right now and I just forgot?” he asked Mrs. Trout in confusion, racking his brain to see what he missed, since she only visited him at night when she needed to criticize him for something.
“No, but as it’s the eve of your trial, there are a few last minute details that we need to see to before we send you off.” She stepped past him into the room without waiting to be invited, followed by an unusually tall man who was carrying a garment bag, a tape measure draped around his neck.
“Like what?” Hayden helped light a few gas lamps so they could see properly. Now that he looked at the man with the bag more closely, he recognized him—by profession, at least. “What do I need a tailor for?”
Mrs. Trout pursed her lips—typical when he asked questions that she considered moronic—and said, “You didn’t think you’d be presenting yourself to the Council of Mages in a t-shirt and too-short slacks did you?”
Hayden didn’t answer this, because it was obvious to both of them that that was exactly what he thought.
It’s not my fault I haven’t had the time or money to buy myself new pants since last year.
“Nothing will make them dismiss you so quickly as showing up looking like a teenage boy, asking for favors,” she continued without waiting for a response. “No, you must present yourself as a legitimate heir to a Great House and prove you are serious about your intention to step into that role.”
“Okay, that makes sense. Seems late to be bringing in the tailor though when the trial is tomorrow; if he’s got to make me an entire suit tonight that’s going to be cutting it close.” He ignored his own pun and hoped she would too.
“He won’t be making anything new, just doing a few alterations to existing garments if necessary.” She gestured towards the bag, which the tailor opened with flair, as though he was revealing a big treat.
To Hayden’s surprise, he found himself staring not at a suit, but at formal mage robes. He had never been permitted to wear them before, as there were clear rules about who could don them and on what occasions it was permitted; the closest he had come was wearing the team Mizzenwald robes during his second year at school for the I.S.C. These robes were such a pale blue as to be almost white, bordered by a thick black trim on all sides. The cuffs had some kind of fancy detailing on them that he couldn’t see properly just yet, because Mrs. Trout was handing him the accompanying shirt and pants with instructions to try them on.
She and the tailor stepped out of the room briefly, and Hayden slipped into the new clothing. The pants fit just right, but the top—which was long-sleeved and made of some kind of stiff fabric he’d never
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