Chương 132: Chapter 124-Chosen Clothing

You know, you ever had this happen to you? You're just walking out of class, minding your own business. Probably thinking about what you're going to do for the rest of the day, and then out of nowhere, a redhead kidnaps you. Said redhead then pulls you all the way across town to some bougie part of town that honestly feels unwelcoming in multiple ways. You ever had this happen to you? Well, I sure fucking have!

"Penelope… Penelope… You alive in that drill-covered head of yours, or have you finally lost it?" I ask again and again. Penelope stops in front of a rich-looking store.

"Good, we're here. Get in," she orders.

"NO. Why have you dragged me to this frankly nice part of town? In fact, it's too nice. I can feel my skin trying to peel itself off in disgust," I ask.

"You need clothes for the Ball, and I knew that if I told you that you'd find some way to get out of it. Well, guess what? There's no way out of this now. Head in and get some fitting clothes for the Ball," Penelope says as she gestures to the door. Looking, I find a sign that reads 'Suits that Suit you'.

"Hells no! This place looks like a pain. What's wrong with the clothes I used to meet your mother?"

"Do you really want me to say what's wrong with them?" she asks in a threatening tone.

"No… Penelope… I understand you're trying to help me, but- What's that!?" Penelope looks behind her. Now's my chance! I turn heel and run straight into a waiting Alfira who stands firm in her full maid outfit. Ow. She's more solid than she looks.

"Princess, I have stopped The Chosen One as asked," Alfira says delicately.

"Good work, Alfira. Charlatan, I will not be dancing with someone who looks like they walked out of a bargain sale. So, get in that store," she orders once more.

"Fine, fine. You don't have to rush me. I was just kidding," I [Lie] as I enter the tailor's. The interior of the shop is filled with a whole spattering of colored garments and cloth. Oh, I'm going to hate this. A Dwarf man turns the corner with what can only be described as a twirling mustache beard combo. I'm really going to hate this.

"Why hello there. Looking to get something special done?" the Dwarf asks with a confused look. Penelope pops out from behind me.

"Hello, Noril. I was wondering if you could make him a suit worthy of the Ball?"

"Princess, it's a pleasure to see you again. Of course, I have a wide variety of garments that would make a perfect base for any suit. Who is his partner for the Ball?" Noril asks.

"I happen to have the pleasure of escorting the one and only Penelope," I say as I take Penelope's hand and give it a kiss. She stares at me like I broke something and then gives a laugh.

"He would be right. So, if you could find something that would go well with my dress, that would be wonderful."

"I'll see what I can do," Noril says as he turns to grab a couple of supplies.

"What was that?" Penelope whispers.

"Practice. If I'm going to the Ball with you, I should at least be able to pull that off," I [Lie].

"This is payback for bringing you here, isn't it?"

"Think what you want." Noril finally turns back around with some equipment.

"Okay, stand here and let's get some measurements." Reluctantly, I walk up and watch as Noril effortlessly begins to take my measurements.

"So, you're The Chosen One?" he asks.

"It would seem so."

"I met the previous Chosen One once. Came in to get a fitting when I was first breaking into the fashion scene," he says as he puts some pieces of cloth up to my face.

"The Long Lived Chosen? What was he like?" I ask.

"A real drama queen, so your typical High Elf. No offense, Ma'am," he says to Alfira. Alfira responds with a delicate nod.

"High Elf? Is that a special kind of Elf or something?" I ask. Penelope shakes her head.

"You really don't listen during class. Some of the races can choose to [Evolve] when they reach a certain [Level] or conditions, sometimes both."

"Like how that Fire Salamander was on the brink of becoming a Drake or how that Giant Spider turned into a Giant Fire Spider?" I ask.

"Exactly. It's rare, but Elves can choose to become High Elves when they reach certain conditions. The same goes for Dwarves. What was it you could become?" Penelope asks Noril.

"Gem Dwarves. Although we haven't had one in over 700 years, when The Chosen of the Smith became one," he remarks as he gives me five coats to try on.

"700 years, really? Are these conditions really that difficult to meet?" I ask, as the first coat is far too bright. Alfira delicately takes the coat from me.

"The conditions are unknown. Those that have [Evolved] managed it through pure force and luck." This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Although the conditions are unknown, we do have a general idea of how high a [Level] you should be. The Imperial Scholars estimate that you must be at least [Level 50] for the opportunity to present itself," Penelope explains.

"Seems low. How'd they get that number?" I ask as I put on the second coat.

"Data points. The lowest [Level] anyone has ever been when they [Evolved] was [Level 50]. [Level 50] isn't uncommon. Most Third Years in the Advanced Class reach that point halfway through their school year. It's the conditions that really decide whether an [Evolution] occurs. Which, as I said-""-Are unknown. Yeah, I heard you the first time. Also, this one itches," I say as I hand the second coat to Alfira. Noril places the third coat on and immediately takes it off.

"This one doesn't work with your shoulders." Penelope walks over and helps me put on the fourth coat.

"What do you think?" I ask with a devilish smile.

"Not bad. Although the face could use a little work," she says with a small smile.

"Please, nothing can improve on perfection."

"If only you could stop bragging about it. I might agree with you," she says as she fixes my collar. At the slightest touch, I find my heart racing. Can she feel it… my heart that is? Gods, I hope she can't. How long is she going to keep her hand on my collar? Well, not like I'm complaining. Penelope looks at me and-"Marvelous. Then we'll go with this coat along with a vest and a tie. I'm thinking of Dark Blue to go with your Dark Red dress. What do you think, Princess?"

Noril asks as he quickly grabs the materials he needs. Penelope pulls away, leaving me… Nothing, it leaves me feeling nothing.

"That sounds perfect, Noril. I assume you can get it done before the Ball."

"Two days? As long as you're okay with me increasing the price," he says with a hardy smile.

"Send the bill to the usual place. See, Charlatan? Not as bad as you thought, right?" she asks with an annoying tone. That's more like it.

"Nope, but that doesn't mean I forgive you. That includes you, Alfira. I will remember this betrayal," I say dramatically as I leave.

"My apologies, Chosen One," Alfira says delicately. As I leave the store, my heart settles back to normal. That was dangerous. I need to be careful. You can do this! Just no more intimate situations. Should be easy. Penelope and I are mere inches apart as we glide through the Gazebo. My hand settles on her back. What the fuck, CJ!? No intimate situations. That's all I had to do, so why am I here under the moonlight dancing with her? I know why, but why?! Penelope stops.

"You've definitely got the steps down. I think you're ready for the Ball. I honestly didn't think we'd make it, but here we are," she says with a sweet smile.

"Please, with me, anything is possible. Plus, I already know how to dance. Just not this specific dance," I remind her.

"You did say that earlier. I find it hard to believe that you actually knew how to dance before I taught you," she says with a teasing tone.

"Fine, I'll show you," I say as I pull her in close… too close.

"I don't know the steps."

"I picked an easy one to follow. Plus, you're quick. I have no doubt in my mind that you'll pick it up." With a devilish smile, I create a rhythm with my foot. Penelope shakes her head, but follows as we dance our way across the Gazebo. Quick half steps that resemble taps more than anything fill the space as we fly from one end to another, never separating for more than a second. It's been ages since I've actually done this, but muscle memory sure is a hell of a thing.

Unlike the Waltz, this dance follows a far more fluid and expressive form that mimics the ever-changing flow of sand. Penelope starts to laugh as the view around us starts to blend, leaving only us behind. Our own little world, free from everything. No Chosen Ones or Princesses, just us.

"I think I'm getting the hang of it," Penelope says.

"Good. Then you should see the spin coming."

"Spi-" I take her hand and spin her, quickly followed by a dip.

"See that coming?" I ask with a cocky tone.

"Guess you could dance," she says with a big, genuine smile.

"Of course, I'm The-" A sudden pain rips through me, causing Penelope and me to fall forward. Penelope catches me as I land on top of her. The pain grows and grows as I recognise it. My fucking soul! Not now!

"Very funny, Charlatan. Now get off. Charlatan, I'm not-" she says as my hand goes limp.

"Charlatan!?" Penelope effortlessly pulls me off her and lays me flat on the ground. The faint purple string appears out of my chest. I need The Chosen Blade. I try to reach for the blade, but my body doesn't respond.

"CJ! What's wrong?" Penelope asks as worry dyes her face.

"My…" The pain spikes as my string of fate flickers in and out of existence. Suddenly, the vision in front of me shifts to a single flame in the middle of shadows.

"You'll need this. I could never get it to work, but maybe you can. After all, you are The Chosen One," I say as I hand a white pocket watch over to a shadowed figure. Before the shadowed figure can say anything, I'm suddenly ripped back to the Gazebo. The Chosen Blade is flat against my chest, and the pain is starting to fade. I'm alive? Penelope! Pulling myself off the ground, I feel another surge of pain push through me. Paying it no mind, I search for Penelope. Across from me, I find her collapsed.

"Penelope! Are you okay?" I ask as I carefully pick her up.

"She'll live. You, on the other hand, I'm not so sure," Brown says as another pulse of healing burns through me.

"What happened to her?"

"The idiot picked up The Chosen Blade. Nearly got herself killed," Black says with worry lacing her every word.

"Is she going to be fine?" I ask as I brush her hair from her face.

"She's a tough one. I imagine she'll be back to doing idiotic things by the morning. Vashrin, you, on the other hand, won't survive another attack. It took everything we had to fend this one off. You need that Unicorn horn," Black says with more than a hint of urgency.

"Don't worry. The Ball is tomorrow. I'll get it," I say as Penelope opens her eyes.

"You're an idiot," Penelope says.

"Tell me something I don't know." Penelope glares at me.

"Tell me everything."

"I don't-""Everything, Charlatan," she says again with a bit more force behind her words.

"Well, you see… There was a Dragon."