Chương 60: Bonus Story : The Makeover : Part 2 : The Mirror

Several outfits now rested in the shopping basket.

"We're still missing one outfit," Emma said.

"We already have several. Two pairs of trousers for everyday travel. Three garments for the upper body. Two light protective layers. One coat for the cold."

"You actually memorized everything we picked out?"

"I need to know what we are purchasing." She picked up the basket and headed back toward the aisles. Emma stopped in front of the jeans. She examined several pairs, compared the cuts, then chose a dark blue pair. They looked similar to the ones Aldric had already tried on, but the fabric was softer and the fit less slim. She draped them over her arm before walking to the sweater section.

"Another winter garment?" Aldric asked.

"This one's different. It's thinner." Aldric touched the fabric.

"So its protection against the cold must be inferior."

"That's alright."

"Why choose a less effective model?"

"Because it looks better."

"So appearance takes priority over function."

"For this outfit, yes."

"That is a strange decision."

"You'll survive." She then walked over to the jackets. After a moment of hesitation, she chose a simple charcoal gray jacket with a discreet collar and a tailored fit. She held it against Aldric's chest to check the size. He lowered his gaze to the garment.

"This one resembles the previous one."

"Not exactly."

"The color is different."

"So is the cut."

"Yet their durability appears to be identical."

"That's possible."

"So they serve the same purpose."

"Aldric, some people own several clothes that all serve the same purpose."

"Why?"

"Because they don't want to dress the exact same way every day."

"That requires more money, more storage space, and more maintenance. For a difference that is primarily aesthetic. Clothing merchants must have become extremely wealthy."

"You're starting to understand our world." She headed toward the shoe section. Up until now, Aldric had tried on every outfit while keeping his boots on because he had refused to remove them without a suitable replacement. In front of them, several rows of sneakers lined the wall. Aldric slowed his pace.

"Are these soldiers' shoes?"

"No."

"Messengers'?"

"Not those either."

"They appear to have been designed for running."

"You can run in them."

"But that is not their primary purpose?"

"Not necessarily." He picked up a black sneaker, turned it over, then pressed on the sole.

"It is very light. But it offers almost no protection for the ankle."

"Not everyone wears combat boots." He examined the stitching.

"The fabric is thin. A blade would pass through it easily."

"Don't start with the blades again..." Aldric set the shoe back down.

"I prefer boots."

"You haven't even tried them on."

"I already know their weakness." Emma picked out a pair of white and gray sneakers.

"Try these."

"They will be dirty after only a few steps. They are therefore unsuitable for muddy roads."

"There aren't many muddy roads in Paris."

"The streets can become muddy when it rains."

"Aldric." He met her gaze. Emma held out the shoebox.

"Fitting room."

"Very well." The employee had been watching them from behind his counter. When he saw Emma gather another outfit, he smiled.

"One last fitting?"

"Yes." Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

"The blue sweater with the gray jacket?"

"Exactly."

"Good choice." Aldric looked from one of them to the other.

"You both seem particularly confident."

"Because this outfit should suit you very well," Emma replied.

"Were the previous ones not satisfactory?"

"They were."

"Then why look for a better one?" She could have explained that she simply wanted to see him differently. Without steel. Without a sword. She could also have admitted that the little girl's words were still echoing in her mind. Why does the knight look sad? Instead, she simply smiled at him.

"Because we still haven't found the right one." Aldric didn't seem convinced, but he headed back toward the fitting rooms. The employee counted the clothes before handing him another numbered tag.

"Four items." Aldric took it between his fingers.

"Three garments and one pair of shoes." The employee held back a laugh.

"Four items." Aldric stepped into the fitting room and pulled the curtain closed behind him. Emma sat down in front of the mirror. She placed the shopping basket at her feet, then watched the customers passing around her. A few yards away, a woman compared two coats in front of her daughter. A man was trying on a jacket while checking his phone. Farther down, several teenagers laughed near a row of fitting rooms. Everything seemed perfectly ordinary. Emma thought back to the first time she had seen Aldric.

His armor had been covered in black marks, his sword resting across his back, and he had stared at the cars, the buildings, and the people as though he had just been dropped into the middle of an enemy kingdom. At that moment, she never would have imagined herself one day waiting for him outside a fitting room. Much less helping him choose his clothes. Seeing more customers approach the counter, the employee gave her a smile before walking away to get back to work. Inside the fitting room, there wasn't a sound.

Emma waited another minute before turning toward the curtain.

"Aldric, how's it going in there?"

"I believe so."

"You believe so?"

"The shoes are different."

"Different how?"

"The knot resembles the one used to secure certain pieces of light armor."

"Then everything's fine."

"In theory. One lace is longer than the other."

"Pull on it until they're the same length."

"That seems to throw the shoe off balance."

"Aldric, these aren't pieces of armor. They don't have to be perfectly symmetrical."

"And yet they are."

"Just come out when you're finished." A few more minutes passed before the curtain finally moved. Emma looked up just as Aldric stepped out of the fitting room. The dark blue jeans fit his legs perfectly. Tailored enough to highlight his build while remaining more comfortable than the first pair, they suited him naturally. The blue sweater emphasized his shoulders without looking too tight, while the gray jacket tied the whole outfit together. The white sneakers completed the transformation.

There was no metal left. No reinforced boots. No belt meant to carry a weapon. Nothing about him suggested a battlefield anymore. Aldric stopped in front of them. She already knew his face. His dark hair. His light-colored eyes. The small scar near his temple. Even so, she felt as though she were seeing him for the first time. Emma no longer saw a legendary knight. She simply saw a young man.

A young man who could have walked down the street without attracting a single glance, sat at a café terrace, taken the metro, gone grocery shopping, or returned home after an ordinary day at work.

"So?" Aldric asked. She smiled softly.

"I think you're about to have a new problem." Aldric frowned.

"What problem?"

"This time, people won't be looking at you because of your armor."

"Is this outfit different from the previous ones?"

"Yes. It looks like you."

"And yet I have never worn clothes like these."

"That's not what I meant." The employee walked over as well.

"It suits you perfectly. The fit is excellent, the colors work well together, and the shoes make the outfit feel less formal." Aldric finally turned his attention to the large mirror. His reflection stood before him. A few minutes earlier, when he had tried on the other outfits, he had done nothing more than examine their flaws. He had moved his arms, tested the strength of the fabric, and checked how freely his legs could move. This time, he did nothing. He simply looked. The man in the mirror had his face.

His eyes. His hair. His build. And yet Aldric felt as though he were looking at a stranger. His gaze searched for the gleam of metal on his shoulders. It was gone. His chest was no longer protected by the breastplate that had accompanied him for so many years. His forearms no longer bore the vambraces scarred by countless battles. His legs felt almost too light without the plates that had always protected them. Even his posture had changed. Without the weight of the sword on his back, his shoulders had relaxed.

Without his boots, every movement seemed almost silent. He slowly raised a hand toward his reflection and let his fingers brush against the fabric of the sweater. No cold surface. No buckle. No strap. No marks left by years of battle. Only wool. He turned slightly. The man in the mirror did the same. Aldric studied his profile for a few moments before facing himself once more. For years, his armor had been the first thing people saw. It announced his rank, his duties, and his abilities before he ever spoke a word.

It reassured those he protected, frightened those he fought, and impressed those who knew his name. It had also hidden everything else. The exhaustion. The wounds. The fear. The doubt. Behind the steel, Aldric had always known what he represented. A knight. A commander. A hero. The man standing before him in the mirror carried none of those titles anymore. He was simply himself. That realization should have brought him relief. Instead, something tightened in his chest.

He had spent a great part of his life becoming the man worthy of wearing that armor. Every plate had been earned. Every scratch told the story of a battle. Every repair was a reminder of a fight he had survived. Taking off that armor did more than change his appearance. It erased everything others could understand about him. Without it, no one could see his victories, his years of training, or the people he had lost. He looked younger. Aldric had never wondered how old he appeared.

In his former world, age mattered less than experience. Some became soldiers at fifteen and died before they reached twenty. Others grew old without ever leaving their village.

"So?" she asked. He didn't answer. His eyes remained fixed on the mirror.

"You don't like it?" she asked.

"I don't know." Realizing the conversation no longer concerned him, the employee quietly returned to his counter.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't recognize myself."

"You're still you."

"And yet I feel as though I'm looking at someone else."

"Looking different doesn't necessarily mean looking worse."

"I look younger. Less prepared."

"Prepared for what?" Aldric didn't answer. The question seemed simple enough. Yet he couldn't find an answer. A battle? An attack? A war? Since arriving on Earth, no one had asked him to march to the front. No army was waiting for him. No kingdom depended on him. Even his sword remained unused. And yet he wore his armor every day. He maintained it, inspected it, and always kept it close at hand.

"You don't have to be ready to fight all the time. I know that's easier said than done."

"In my world, a knight without armor was either wounded... or dead."

"Look at yourself again." He turned his attention back to the mirror.

"What do you see?" she asked. Aldric took his time studying his reflection. He still saw neither the hero, nor the knight, nor the commander. Only a young man dressed like the people of this world. The sight still felt unfamiliar. And yet it wasn't unpleasant. It seemed calm. Light. Free of a burden he had never truly noticed until he had set it aside.

"I don't know yet," he replied.

"That's okay."

"What do you see?" The question caught her off guard. She looked at her own reflection for a moment before returning her gaze to Aldric's.

"I see Aldric." He turned to face her.

"Only Aldric?"

"Only Aldric." He fell silent for a few moments.

"Is that enough?" Emma held his gaze.

"Yes." Aldric looked at his reflection once more. For a few moments, he couldn't tell whether he should feel happy or sad. Happy to discover that he could look like an ordinary person. Sad at the thought that the man he had been seemed able to disappear so easily beneath a few pieces of cloth. Then he realized that nothing had truly disappeared. These clothes could not erase his battles. They could not take away his memories. They could not strip away the people he had loved, protected, or lost.

His armor told the story of his past. It did not have to decide his future.

"I'll take this outfit," he said. Emma smiled.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Even the sneakers?" He lowered his eyes to his shoes.

"They would still be inadequate against an armed attack. But they are comfortable," he added. A smile immediately returned to Emma's lips.

"That's already progress." Aldric looked at his reflection one last time before adjusting the collar of his jacket.

"I will not wear these clothes into battle."

"There won't be a battle."

"In that case... they should be suitable."