The Perfect Silk

The knife was pressed painfully to Simon's skin. One more centimeter of force and that razor sharpness would surely slice right into him, cutting his life short.

"What do you want from me?!" Simon demanded as strongly as his courage could muster, only to yelp when a few drops of blood trickled down his neck.

It was a very clear warning; be quiet or else. Alabaster, meanwhile, regarded the scene with sympathetic eyes. Yet, he said not a word in defense of the other man. The tailor got the sense that it was safer for the both of them if he didn't; it soon became clear why.

"I should have known that I would find you in a place like this. You never could resist pretty things. Still, I had to traipse all over this wretched human settlement looking for you. Father is furious."

"I'm sorry, brother. I grew restless. I'll come back to the castle now."

This monster was Alabaster's brother?! Then, that meant.. he was in the presence of yet another vampire! Simon usually would have written off this entire thing by now as some kind of twisted nightmare. But, this was no dream. This was as real as the drops of blood that had been negotiated from his veins by that infernal blade.

"Good. And you had better stay there this time. I will not be held responsible for the messes you find yourself in, if you run off again. As your older brother, it is my job to protect you. But, how can I, when you are being so reckless?"

"Once again, I do apologize."

And to make it all worse, the cherry on top was that they were talking like he wasn't even there. Simon was good at curbing his temper. Gone was the reckless, young man who shot off his mouth and got tossed out on his ear, when doing something as simple as holding his tongue would have granted him food and shelter for the night. To operate in a world like the one Simon Hart had been born into, concessions had to be made. Pride had to be swallowed.

But, sometimes, enough was enough! He plucked a feathered pin from his hat and stabbed his captor's hand with everything he had. The reaction was immediate. A sizzling sound that reminded the tailor of bacon in a hot skillet met his ears, as well as a shrill scream. The moment the creature dropped the knife, he leapt clear and twirled around to see who had a hold of him; the sight was shocking to say the least.

Long, silky locks of moon-kissed hair was juxtaposed by a head full of shoulder-length locks as black as midnight. Not to mention that while Alabaster possessed a leaner, pleasantly sloping figure, his brother's was powerful and imposing. Yes, this frame was exactly the kind of aesthetic he thought of when he pictured a vampire. It was an interesting contrast; the brothers were as different as day and night.

However, there was little time to study this. Golden eyes locked onto him with murderous intent the moment the vampires' hand stopped smoking. That large, surprisingly fast form blurred as he rushed the tailor, sharp nails out and ready to dispatch him. But, before Simon could even formulate a proper fear response, in the blink of an eye, Alabaster had appeared between them. As if by magic!

'Nonsense. It has to be a trick of the light. There is no such thing as m-'

But, that's when he glanced down and his mouth hung agape as he noticed that Alabaster was levitating an inch off the floor. His hair also seemed to defy gravity, drifting upwards fluidly as if underwater. Not only that, but the much smaller vampire displayed an ungodly amount of strength in that he managed to catch his sibling's fist perfectly, holding back the vampire's force and fury like it as nothing. Who was this man?!

"That's enough. Spare him, Malakai. Please."

'Please?' Simon thought incredulously.

The younger had outmatched his brother. Why did he feel the need to plead with him? Was it out of respect for the elder's station? Just then, he found himself pinned under the golden gaze of Malakai, once again, from over Alabaster's shoulder. It sent his blood running cold. It also gave Simon the sense that something was being demanded of him; and he had some foggy idea of what he wanted.

These two were vampires. But, they were also from a noble family. Maybe, the same code of conduct that the gentry expected the peasantry to abide by in the human world in exchange for mercy from their betters applied here, as well? It left a bad taste in his mouth, but Simon averted his eyes and bowed his head in respect. The effect was immediate. Malakai nodded, before taking a step back and lowering his hand.

"Very well, my brother. I will spare this human. But, only if you agree to come back to the castle with me. I fear how much energy you've exerted with this fit of yours."

"Very well."

With that, the two vampires made their way to the door. Alabaster, however, stopped just before he was out of sight to smile at the disheveled man.

"I'll send you an invite to the castle in a month. I trust my suit will be ready by then?"

"Yes," the tailor heard himself say by impulse.

"Ah, good. See you then, Simon Hart."

"Brother-" Malakai called in warning.

"Goodbye."

With that, the human was left by himself once again. Thankfully alone to collapse into the nearest chair as he came down from whatever adrenaline high that was holding him up. He took off his hat to run his fingers through his sweat soaked hair. He had been so careful. So very mindful in making sure not to get involved with anyone who seemed unsavory or dangerous. And now, by some cruel twist of fate, he was at the mercy of two vampires?

But, then again, at least one of them liked his clothes. And he would bet his hat that Alabaster would look good in them, too. He gave his hair a rather painful tug.

'Stop being so fixated on your damn fashion sense for once! You have to think of a way out of this mess!'

But, there was only one escape out of all of this madness. Ironically, the very thing he was scolding himself over was his only way out. The suit! That's right! He only needed to make Alabaster an outfit that would outshine all the others! Then, the two creatures of the night would have no more use for him! No more need to contact him or intrude on his life!

So, he set to work. His usual customers stared perplexed at the sign now hung on the door of the Ode to Maria; closed for business until further notice.

"Where is the tailor?"

"I don't know. But, this is very unlike him."

"Perhaps he's ill?"

"I don't know. Or perhaps he's dead."

"Why would you say that?!"

"Because those vampires are in town. Damn them and their wretched kind! Nothing good could ever come from them being here!"

"Shh! Are you crazy?! What if the King's guards hear you? Or worse yet, those vampires."

"Ha! Like I fear their lot! They can't even come out while the sun is up!"

"That's an old wives' tale! I saw one of em on the castle's balcony, myself, greetin' the day like some kind of morning lark!"

"Stop telling tall tales, you old geezer! You're scaring the wee ones!"

"Better they be scared than brave n' adventurous! You hear me, young babes? Best to stay away from the castle until those beasties go home! They'll eat anything that moves! They especially like the flesh of the young! So, better to stay as far away from em as possible! Don't let your curiosity overpower your God given commonsense!"

If only a certain tailor was there to hear that speech from someone a good thirty years his senior. Instead, he was at the marketplace, looking over the fabrics. Ah, yes, the endless reels of cloth that had come from all over the world were a makeshift wonderland for a man such as Simon Hart. He reverently ran his finger tips along the cloth, feeling the sensations of each one.

"Simon!"

The tailor whipped around to see the man who owned this particular corner of the market; an old friend with purple hair that he wore in a loose pony tail, an open collared shirt and a sunny disposition.

"Ah, Vilo. It's good to see you."

The elvish man put his hands on the human's shoulders, greeting him like they were long lost brothers. Simon was as stiff as usual, but he would be lying if he said that seeing the other man didn't please him; nothing gave that truth away quite like the smile that he couldn't keep off his face.

"How are you, my friend?! It seems like it's been one hundred years since I've even seen you! Especially since you stay locked up in that shoppe of yours for ages on end!"

"It's only been two months, Vilo. Still, I'm happy to see that I was missed and not just my money."

"Bah, money! You don't need even a single, bronze Aster to spend time with me, old friend."

"Thank you. By the way, how is Mira?"

"You know that crazy sister of mine! She's out exploring the wilds again. But, since she was the one who found that Nymph village and brought back all of that arcane leather, who am I to complain? She finds some real treasures out there!"

"Speaking of treasures, I need something special. I have a very, high profile client. I'm looking for something exclusive. Something luxurious. Do you have anything like that in stock?"

Vilo narrowed his lavender eyes as he looked the tailor over.

"How exclusive? How luxurious?"

Simon's brows knit together and his lips pulled into a deep frown as he recognized what the other man was doing. He was essentially saying that he had what he was looking for, but was doubtful if he could afford it or not. It reminded him too much of going into taverns as a young man and being asked if he really had the money to pay for a proper meal or was just there to beg. It lit a fire in him that he just couldn't hold back.

"One of a kind!" he expounded with all of the passion in the world.

That seemed to please Vilo, who smirked, before looping an arm around Simon's shoulder and steering him toward an area behind some curtains that contained a few chests.

"I think I have what you're looking for, old friend," he said in a hushed tone, as if the cloth within the chest he was beginning to unlock was so delicate and fine, that even so much as a loud voice would be enough to fray it's edges, "Behold."

The tailor couldn't help, but to stare.

"How.. How did you even get this?"

"You of all people should know that I have my sources. I'm willing to sell it for five hundred gold Asters per yard. Well? Are you interested?"

Simon was crunching numbers in his head. But, no matter how he sliced it or diced it, he just didn't have enough. But, he simply had to have it! It was perfect in every way! He could imagine the pale vampire noble sashaying across the castle's ballroom floor, looked upon by Lord and Lady alike as a thing of beauty and envy, if he wore something like this. It would be his masterpiece; his Magnum Opus!

"..Would you take payments?"

Vilo sighed and smiled.

"You're lucky you're my friend and my sister's bestie. Alright. Just for you, Simon. Because I know you're good for it."

And just like that, Simon Hart became the proud owner of a reel of authentic Specter's Revenge silk.