Sorcerer from Another World

What stood up to me was the fine cloth tartan kilt fastened with a sleek black belt. As far as I could remember, I don't think the Celts of my world wore kilts or tartans. Here I was dressed in the fine clothes of Abla. A plaid pattern of light green and blue with cuts of black. Over my chest, I wore a tunic with a black cloak over my shoulders with new boots.

It was smart, and fitted well. Too well, and judging by Tulisa’s and Umbra’s stares I had the former her to thank for the exact measurements. The latter, who just arrived, confirmed before I put on the clothes that they would fit well. I felt my cheeks heat up and I guessed they were now a faint shade of crimson.

At least I didn’t squirm under her amorous gaze and I wasn’t too obvious looking back at Tulisa’s lush body. It was Rebecca’s kind hearted chuckle at us that sent me fumbling and stammering with embarrassment. Tulisa too avoided my gaze afterwards.

It was nice to see Rebecca laugh even though it was at our expense. She looked more like a tombstone than the determined, happy woman I knew her to be. Brave, in the face of Ferisdarm’s end. But now grave without her husband and love.

“It fits you well. Now turn around while we change.”

I waited in silence until they were done. While I might have peeked on Tulisa given the understanding between us. I would never violate Rebecca’s privacy. It was wrong to anyone, but to Rebecca I would prefer to cut off my hand that do bad by her.

“We’re done, Chief Master Sorcerer…” Rebecca said

“That’s a mouthful of a title. Since when did I become Chief?”

“It is hardly grand enough title for you, my Master. You who is the greatest sorcerer this world has ever known and our dearest saviour and protector who leads us towards the light in these most dark and perilous of times.” Umbra said in a verbose, passionate speech.

“Since you saved us all, Damian, and negotiated with the Kings of Gelt to get us a new home and faced a dragon for us. You get the fancy title.” Rebecca replied.

“I like it, Chief Master.” Tulisa said.

“Master’s is a title enough from you. My head might explode if you join in.” I joked.

“I hope it doesn’t Master. You’re much too handsome in your garments to lose your head.” She teased back.

They were truly perfect. Dresses that enhanced already perfect people. Umbra wore hers with a casual confidence. I noticed how happy Tulisa looked.. She was already very different from the gloomy woman I had met in Ferisdarm. I hope one day Rebecca can experience such a change from grief to happiness.

“I have something to tell you, Damian.” Rebecca said to me in a whisper. Her hand rested on her stomach.

“Oh?”

“It can wait. When you have a moment.” She insisted.

“Of course.” I replied.

She looked rather severe. More so than even her usual grief-stricken face cast on her.

“Are you okay?” It was a silly question. One that would lead to a yes or no. Hardly supportive.

“Not today. Maybe another day. We will have to wait.”

“This may be a bit forward. But, the pain and grief you are experiencing. Helping me with clothes, looking after our people… you are working hard. I admire everything you are doing. Thank you Rebecca.”

I suggested, “After we perform a proper send off for Galen and everyone. We can celebrate his memory. But after, let us do something you enjoy. When we have the chance with as many people as you like.”

I still hadn’t asked her a question to explore what she was thinking. I couldn’t, some sort of pain, my own grief, resisted me being truly empathetic. Stopped wanting to know what she was feeling and going through.

Tulisa said, “I also lost my husband. Not so soon. A while back. I’m not trying to lessen your pain. Just you’re not alone. How is it for you with Galen gone?”

Tulisa did what I could not.

Tears dripped out from her red eyes as easily as rain from clouds “Thank you, Tulisa. You as well, Chief.”

“Hug?” Tulisa asked.

“Rebecca nodded shyly, “Please.”

The two hugged and I was pulled in. It was a familial hug and perhaps for the first time I was treating Tulisa as a friend and not a love interest. She could be both. That was what I got from our tearful hugging.

Rebecca got support and warmth during her darkest hour. It was small, but likely one of the best things I ever did. No magic, just me with some support from Tulisa being kind.

Umbra did not join in and instead awkwardly looked on. I don’t think she was used to a more faminial intimacy and comfort, for her it was more about sex. Not that she was wrong just how her life had gone so far.

“Enough of this.” Rebecca laughed, a somewhat forced one, pulling out of our hug after longer than a minute of shared warmth. “You’ve got places to be Chief Sorcerer. Go go.”

Rebecca shooed me away.

What am I a dog? Do this Domain, do that, my husband died protecting you can’t say no, oh yeah there is a God of War trying to kill us sort that please, oh it is the right thing to do to protect all these refugees. Where are they all going to bloody live? Solve it, Damian.

Fuck.

Maybe I should have vegetated watching tv shows for the rest of my miserable existence.

Walking out wearing my fancy clothes, I met an armoured, but dashing pair shortly afterwards. By two guards for the day Tara and Làidir.

Fuck, Làidir was hot. Confident and powerful. The fact that I was starting to notice too meant something. Something I was going to admit to yet. She was cracking through my walls.

Both were rather dashing in full plate, which I causally improved on with a little concentration. Neither wore helmets which while smart for battle are rather uncomfortable for ceremony.

Tara was entirely professional. Làidir leered at me. I was slightly less bothered by it now. Vuglar, but better than disinterest.

I thought came to mind, “You alright with Làidir?” I asked Tara.

“You will be safer with her protecting you. I have no issue so long as she doesn’t interfere with my oath.” Tara said.

Làidir was her usual nonchalant self, “You don’t wish for him. You serve loyally. I have no problem with her either. If she will die in your stead all the better.”

I didn’t ask, but I know now.

“Well good I guess. Though let us all try to live these coming days. I would rather not have to mourn either of you.”

“Of course, Chief.” Tara said, adopting Rebecca’s use of the title for me.

“You can be sweet sometimes. It is not awful.” Làidir said in a rather confusing turn of phrase.

Well glad that I’m not awful. What’s next? You're slightly better than terrible? I can feel my self-esteem rising with every compliment. I thought sarcastically.

I directed to the hall where everyone was meeting. We met Morgana and Iris outfront.

Iris and Morgana’s dresses were also wearing new dresses. It seemed everyone was pulling their best and preparing for something I didn’t know was even happening.

Iris’ dress bared skin with her low-cut green dress that hugged her curves with a crown of Iris flowers atop her head. Judging by her confident smile she revealed in showing off her bodily femininity. One which she had crafted.

Morgana wore an obsidian-purple dress that covered every inch of skin while revealing her neck and head. A beauty she was.

I think she wore her dress like armour and exposing skin would be the same as showing vulnerability. Not as a person, but as a future ruler: her body was as much part of that as the land and the people.

I don’t know how they pulled this all off. But we had skilled tailors somewhere.

“No need to gawp. You’ve seen us in far less.” Morgana flirted forcefully.

“Can’t help it when it comes to my treasures.” I replied clumsily. “We going in?”

“Entrance to the stage is here, metalhead. Just us two speaking. Nice and simple. Tell everyone your plans for the future and if you can make them feel a little better all the better. I will say the rest.”

“Right. When?” I asked.

“Sooner the better.”

Tumbling, churning nausea hit me. A rather delayed reaction. It hit me. Public speaking. I’ll focus on Iris.

“Let’s do this.” I said with feigned confidence.

The others left, leaving Morgana and I before the ‘stage’ entrance.