"Unfortunately for both of us, my mustache is not magical."
Korlin collapses to the ground, his hands clutching his heart.
"Betrayal..."
The boy's knees give out, and his body lies limp in the center of the comically large closet.
"Apologies, I seem to have given your friend some heartache."
"No, no, that's quite alright," Sirius assures the man. "He'll get over it."
"No, I won't!" The dead man yet lives.
"Thank you for taking us here," Sirius shoots the confirmed-to-be butler an appealing expression.
The "here" in question is a massive, studio-apartment-sized closet, stocked full of clothing of all varieties. Three oversized mirrors are posted around the room to show all angles of oneself. Everything has a nice, wooden scent like a log cabin.
No royal garbs occupy the closet; those are likely kept elsewhere and for good reason. This room looks like it hasn't been used in decades. Though Cilas mentions Pholy and Hyacinth use this room occasionally. Everyone has their own closets, so this place acts something like a clothing store.
"As it is my lord's wish, I will take you anywhere."
"That's some deep dedication. Is he really that great?"
"It is not for me to decide whether he is great or not. I am to be loyal to my bitter end."
"Huh... Well, I appreciate it nonetheless."
Sirius bows respectfully, giving the man a modest look on his face. In contrast, the boy sprawled out on the floor raises his voice in a completely immodest fashion.
"You can still teach me magic though... right?"
"Apologies, I am unfit to produce blessings of any kind."
"...Unfit? You mean... some people can't use magic?"
"Correct. If I may ask, you two are Witch Spawn, no?"
Sirius, housing a faint sense of dread, speaks out.
"That's right..."
"Do blessings not apply in your land of origin?" The man begins shifting through racks of hanging clothes. "I am informed that your deaths thrust you into this land, and that you seem to lack basic knowledge and etiquette. Is your homeland truly that foreign?"
"Ignoring that blatant insult, I suppose so. Things like blessings, wonics, and wailians don't exist there. The whole concept of Witch Spawns wasn't around either. Nor were real witches at all."
"So, it was an entirely different culture? Fascinating..."
"If you don't mind me asking... Are there a lot of humans, or- Witch Spawns? I haven't seen many just walking around."
Now that they're talking about it, Cilas quite perfectly matches the image of an aged human. As does Wilphrey, for that matter. But based on all they've said, they couldn't possibly be humans. There must be some distinct difference he's missing.
Pulling out a ridiculous set of polka-dotted pants, the butler holds it in front of his vision, using Sirius as a model.
"From my knowledge, most Witch Spawn brought into this world are either enslaved or sent away to special villages." The two boys' expressions distort, leading Cilas to a smooth follow-up. "Of course, the country of Lunalir takes no part in these engagements. Witc- ... or, humans, are free to roam this land as they please, though most businesses don't tend to serve them. Due to this constant discrimination, the majority of humans end up migrating north to safe havens."
"Safe havens? Is it really that bad?"
"Lots of people tend to be superstitious around here. It leads them to drastic actions."
"An example being...?" Korlin, now sitting crisscrossed, is more curious than concerned.
Cilas ponders a moment. His aged wrinkles depress further.
"...While rare, hordes of the foolish will sometimes march into the homes of humans, driving them out through threats or violence. These people have it in their minds that humans are here to bring death to all. They are devoid of even the thought that these beings are capable of thought or emotion."
"How about you?" Sirius needs to know how to approach this person. How to interact.
"I have no qualms with your kind. I do not agree with that mentality... But, I understand it."
"..."
"The fear of death... So embedded in our blood, can drive us mad. The fear of losing someone important to you... losing your reason to live. Death is cruel; it fuels ambition along with our irrationality. If someone or something were to threaten your existence with the face of death, would you, too, not cower?"
"..."
"..."
"But those are just misconceptions. Humans don't take lives from others, or are even related to the witch."
"How can you be so sure? You arrived here mere days ago."
"That's true, but..."
"Besides, even if it is false, people love excuses. If given the chance, would you not also readily blame someone for your distress? People desire to be informed, to believe in something... And if something justifies your belief, the deeper your disdain is for defiance."
The closet is strained with awkward silence.
Sirius admits that he hadn't thought of it that way. Such a cultural difference subconsciously made him detach himself from attempting to understand the inhabitants of this world.
He's always liked to believe that he has a decent understanding of other people. Being able to read people from their movements and expressions was a tiny ounce of pride. But since stepping foot on this planet, he's constantly felt this skill depleting.
Or maybe he never had it to begin with. Perhaps it was just another lie he told to himself.
"Man, I'm just trying to get new clothes..." Korlin does a backwards somersault into a straightened stand. "It's too early for Sirius to be hearing philosophical teachings."
"For me? I think you're just bored."
"...Perhaps."
Taking a look at his companion, Sirius notices details his tired mind couldn't previously.
"...Were your eyes always so baggy?"
"Huh-? Oh... I think so." Korlin laughs awkwardly, folding a big grin on his face.
"Did you sleep last night?"
"Of course I did!" While faint, his words carry a hoarse ripple. "I mean, did you feel those beds?!"
"...Mm."
An uncomfortable tension holds the room. Cilas clears his weathered throat.
"If you would, shall we begin our search?"
⧗⧖⧗⧖⧗
Sirius (with Korlin taking the lead) picks out clothes close to what he's used to, but adds in elements based on what he's gathered from Lunalir's culture. Which is easier said than done, because a lot of these choices are a bit... exotic.
Since Lunalir has a colder climate, many people wear extra layers and wrap themselves in various forms of cloth. For the base, Sirius slips on a black tunic with elbow-stretching sleeves and tiny strings lacing the front. Over-top he throws on a soft, hooded, charcoal gray jacket.
For his legs, he dons dark, loose pants that sag over his newly equipped shoes. They are a surprisingly comfortable pair of bleakly colored, leathery footwear. Their shape resembles sneakers, but the design and feel are completely foreign.
As for the Lunalir-spice, each of his clothing items has tied, black ribbons built-in to their joints. Each of his knees, ankles, elbows, and wrists have the flowing tassels. What do they have to do with keeping warm? He doesn't know. It must just be a cultural thing.
He also nabs a fur scarf that is designed to rest atop his shoulders and not drape. It is an even darker shade of gray than his jacket, and is capable of being brought over his nose as a mask. And with that, his outfit is complete.
Apparently, the simplicity and dark design complement Sirius's features very well... Or so Korlin says. But, Sirius isn't able to decide on matters like this, so he's glad Korlin took charge. He doesn't mind how he looks.
Cilas mentions that he took their previous clothing to be washed. Apparently, the backyard is home to water tanks and various drying racks. It seems like an old-fashioned way of living for this huge mansion, but it makes sense. There is no modern technology in this world. Still, he expected some sort of magic or something.
Sirius had always wondered what life would be like without technology. And now that it's right in front of him... It doesn't register right. Am I really that indifferent to everything?
...
After picking out their new, somewhat dusty clothes, the two boys begin their advance towards the front yard. On their way, Sirius can't help but stare at his companion's choice of clothing.
Compared to him, Korlin got a little more unique with his fashion choices. Apart from his shoes, everything else is molded to fit the "stereotypical adventurer" style.
Worn, gray pants anchor at his ankles, and an overly long-fitted tunic is tied at his waist by a belt wrapped into a knot. An unhooded cloak hugs his neck and shoulders, draping down to his lower back. The only thing missing is a sword at his hip, but other than that, he looks like he could go fight some goblins.
"Are you really going to stick with that outfit? Not judging or anything, just wondering."
He is indeed silently judging him.
"What? I look epic, don't I?"
"Epic...?"
"I look like an adventurer, right? Off to slay the demon king!" He poses on a nearby rock, a blinding gleam of pride in his eyes. "Or something!"
"Is that another one of your fantasies?"
"Call them what you will..."
"I feel like you need a bow and a quiver on your back. Or maybe a shield and headband to really sell the whole swordsman vibe."
"I agree with the headband, but I'd rather be a mage than a swordsman. Casting spells and whatnot."
"Then you should have dressed like one. Get a long robe and oversized hat like a wizard."
"You sure are quite vocal for someone who needed me to pick out all their clothes."
"Ouch."
"I'm just messing with ya. Unfortunately," he sighs. "I'm not an old wise man, so I couldn't pull it off... yet. Besides, I think I look quite dapper, don't you?" He does a little twirl and falls flat on his back.
"Yeah, the floor looks lovely on you. Come on." Lifting Korlin up, he suppresses a chuckle. They continue through the lavish garden in search of a fiery little girl.
"Be honest," Korlin says.
"About?"
"Your clothes! Do you like them? You just sort of agreed with everything I picked out. Are you actually happy with it?"
"Yeah, I like it. I have very low standards for things, so I'm fine with whatever."
"Are you saying I'm someone you have low expectations for??" He clutches his heart.
"Not what I meant!" Sirius nudges the boy. "I just don't have it in me to decide on things anymore. I told you, no? I'm not a very decisive person."
"Why is that?" Korlin asks earnestly.
"..." Sirius lowers his gaze. "I'm not sure."
"I've been meaning to ask... I've pieced together some of the picture, but... What was your life like before coming here? Before dying?"
...
...
"...Well-" Sirius's thoughts throw him back into his old life. Into that suffocating emptiness. Into the pressure of the act. Into those shallow shells of old relationships. Those walking regrets. Those dreams left undreamt... "-It's nothing interesting. What is this an interview?" He attempts to make light of the situation.
...
Sirius tries to keep walking toward the courtyard, but is stopped at the shoulder.
"No, no, no, no, no you get back here!"
"Huh?"
"Geeeeezzzzzz..." Korlin sighs histrionically. "You're one of those people, huh?"
"One of those people?" Sirius prepares to listen to nonsense.
"Yeah. One of those people who hide their true emotions and change the subject instead of embracing their moment of weakness."
-...
"..."
"Man, I HATE when characters do that..."
"What am I, an anime character??" Sirius continues on his way, dragging Korlin along.
"Actually... If anything, I'm the anime character and you're a side character. Which, I suppose, does make you an anime character, just not a main one. But then again, you have almost as much screen time as me, which might technically make you a..."
...
Perfectly maintained flowerbeds and fruit trees decorate the vast yard. A cloudless blue expands above, spreading its vigor across the land. Among Alzir's notes was the idea that Lunalir's temperature is lower compared to most countries. Being on the southern end of the planet, Lunalir's temperature surprisingly sits at a reliable, almost-warm with a cool breeze. It's almost perfect, but brings up the question of how plant life thrives.
It just so happened to be boiling hot when he first arrived. Or maybe it just felt that way...
Floral scents fill the air. If one were allergic, it would probably be fatal.
Speaking of which...
Korlin sneezes violently, snot shooting out his nostrils. He groans and tumbles onto Sirius's back.
"Sirius... I can't take it..."
"Huh? Are you allergic?? You didn't sneeze when we came through here before."
"That's because I was distracted."
"...What does that have to do with anything?"
"When I'm distracted my allergies don't act up."
"What kind of logic is that?? You're just defying nature at that point."
"Sirius-" his cry is interrupted by another sneeze. "Distract me, or I'll die..."
The boy wraps his arms over Sirius and falls limp. Sirius drags him along the stone.
"You are literally the easiest person in the world to distract. Just think about magic or something."
"Is there allergy-stopping magic? I'd like some of that..." Rogue snot plants itself onto Sirius's new clothes.
-I just got clean clothes...
Sirius sets Korlin on the edge of a flowerbed and cracks his own back.
"I'll bring you inside in a minute, just hang in there," he says, wiping off the mucus with a nearby rock.
Korlin, sat for approximately six seconds, proceeds to fall backward into the mulch, staining his new attire. Sniffles escape the fallen warrior.
-Seriously...?
"What do you think you're doing?!" A familiar voice rings out and reverberates through the garden. The voice of a short, fiery girl. "I just mulched that bed! Get out of there!"
Pholy rushes toward them, steam rising from her head.
Upon hearing her voice, Korlin basically teleports from the bed to a kneeling position beside Sirius.
"I apologize, your highness." The boy deepens his voice to sound older.
"Wh- What..." Pholy is at a loss for words. "What are you wearing...?"
"Oh? Do you find my garments attractive, your highness?"
"...." Pholy slowly turns to stare at Sirius, begging for him to give some sort of answer.
"Don't question it," Sirius replies.
"Kindel give me strength..." she sighs. "Why are you two out here?"
"For house training, miss!" Korlin springs up and strikes a salute.
"House training..." She sounds like she could cry. Transparent smoke rises from her head. "Look," she rubs her eyes. "I'm just the gardener, alright? I don't do household chores and all that. If you want to know about those, ask Cinth or Cilas."
"Cilas directed us to you..."
"Rrrr, why that sly little... Okay, okay, I'm going to keep it straight with you two. I'm here to water plants and get paid. I don't want to waste my time babysitting and teaching you how to fold laundry."
"Come on, taking care of some plants can't take that long. Besides, you live here, don't you? What else do you have to do?"
"I have a life outside of this..."
"Oh reallllly? Like what?"
"Aeu- uh," she's unraveling at the seams. Not a single cell of hers was prepared for that retort. Steam plumes from her ears as her eyes look for nonexistent salvation. "You know... Spending money..."
"I knew it!"
"Shut up!"
"Didn't anyone ever teach you not to waste money all the time?" he sighs. "Who would have thought you were a spoiled florist tsundere loli..."
...
"WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN?!"
It's as if a fuse lit and is slowly burning to her last grasp of sanity. Her golden hair rises along with the steam, the ends lit with pink flames.
"This is not safe for the plants! Why are you a gardener if you can light yourself on fire?!"
"I LIKE PLANTS!"
....
...
The flaming girl sizzles out, and her body engulfs in pink embers. Her breath heavy, she brushes off her smoke-stained clothes.
Korlin dons a wonder-struck look on his face. A flame other than hers blazes in his eyes.
"You're so cool..."
"In any case," she sighs and swallows hard. "You both should go inside and consult Cinth. Though I doubt she'll be thrilled to see you either. She can teach you some of the basics."
"Question!" Korlin raises his hand as if in a classroom.
"..."
Her fed-up expression needs no words.
"Can you teach us how to read and write?"
...
...
Her mouth gapes open and her eyebrows contort inwards as if she's just heard the saddest thing imaginable.
"Y-You can't read?? Or write...? Seriously?"
With the utmost confidence, the boy responds with his chest held high.
"Seriously."
"Kindel give me strength..." She rubs her eyes in both frustration and disbelief. "You're both Witch Spawn, yes? I guess that checks out..." she groans. "Alright, fine! If! And I mean if I have time, I can help teach you some things, but no promises."
Korlin gets down on one knee, in a knightly position, and gracefully grabs her slender hand.
"Thank you, your majesty."
His charade leads him to receiving a backhanded slap to the cheek.
"Leave."
Holding his cheek, with an overly joyous look on his face, the boy shuffles in the direction of the manor. His allergies have completely abandoned him, replacing themselves with nothing but tranquility and enlightenment.
"Sorry about that," Sirius bows politely. He can't help but feel bad for her, even though he finds enjoyment in their banter.
He rushes after the bliss-ridden boy, leaving the fiery florist by herself.
As she watches them depart, a faint grin creeps onto her gentle face.