The Complete Seven Sorcerers Trilogy

by Julius St. Clair

  Remi sighed and watched as groups of people ran past her, rushing to get home as fast as possible or at least to escape the dark and ominous clouds above.

  She didn’t care about the rain. She was still going to get her hair done.

  Before she could turn around though, someone threw a thick blanket around her shoulders, grabbed her, and quickly threw her inside the building behind her.

  She was still reeling from the sudden motions when she heard the door shut behind her.

  Chapter 25 – Dress

  “You just messed up,” Remi said as she spun around and threw the blanket off of her. She clenched her artificial fists and prepared for battle, but the young man standing before her obviously wasn’t. He raised his hands in fear and he was visibly trembling.

  “I was getting you out of the rain,” he said. “I didn’t mean to—I’m sorry I startled you.”

  “Oh,” she said, relaxing her muscles. “Next time you should probably make yourself known before grabbing girls off the street. It’s kind of creepy.”

  “Not my intention at all,” he replied, clearing his throat and brushing off his clothes, trying to dry them the best he could. His dark brown hair was fine and greased, with all of it combed over and pointing to the left. He was wearing a blue vest that matched his eyes and it was over a black dress shirt that was tucked into a pair of black dress pants. He had a tailoring ruler draped over his neck and there was a belt around his waist with various leather pouches hanging from it with scissors, needles, chalk and other tailoring materials. Remi didn’t need her eidolon to determine his occupation.

  “So why were you so concerned?” she asked, glancing around the room. It looked nothing like a shop. More like someone’s home. There were in a large foyer with open doorways extending down the hall behind her. There was a soft blue carpet under her feet and hardwood floors were beyond that. The walls were painted white and plain. There were no decorations, and the only furniture was an end table to her left that had a vase filled with a few of the flowers from the path leading to Virga.

  “Excuse me?” he asked.

  “Why were you so concerned for my safety?” she asked. “It’s only rain.”

  “That…is not rain. Rain nourishes. What I saw out there…it’s only going to cause destruction.”

  “Paragon will survive.”

  “Today, probably. But not if this becomes the norm. From what I’ve seen in my lifetime, there are checks and balances keeping everything running smoothly. If it rains harder than ever, that has to mean periods of drought may follow.”

  “That might not come for a long time.”

  “We’re immortals. Time is meaningless.”

  “We’re not immortals,” she said, unsure of why she was still talking with him. “If we need food to stay whole, that doesn’t make us immortal.”

  “Depends on your definition. As long as we get the proper sustenance, we can live forever. Back on Terra, regardless of your health and exercise regimen, death still came for you.”

  “What will happen here if people don’t get what they need?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s never happened before. But what I do know is that the people are happy and content. Take that away and there starts to be grumbling and desires to change the status quo. That’s the kind of thing that leads to internal war.”

  “Sometimes change is a good thing.”

  “What’s sad is that you never know which changes are good or bad until it’s already happened and you can’t go back.”

  “Okay, what are we doing?” Remi chuckled. “I don’t even know your name.”

  “Ian,” he laughed, giving her a bow. “Your favorite hair stylist and tailor.”

  “You sure can talk,” she said. He raised his head proudly.

  “Only when someone can match my speed.”

  “So…” she said, parting her hair, “what’s your story?”

  “Why would I tell you all about me without anything in return? That’s not how this works.”

  “How what works?” she asked, very intrigued.

  “What this is,” he said, waving a hand toward her from head to toe, and then waving a hand from his head to his feet.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “We like each other,” he said. “And so what we do next will determine just how great our bond will be.”

  “You’re weird,” she laughed, raising an eyebrow.

  “Sorry,” he said, turning red with embarrassment. “It’s been a long time since I’ve met someone I’ve found interesting.”

  “We’ve barely had a conversation.”

  “And that was more than enough. I deal with people on a daily basis, and I’ve learned a lot. It doesn’t take long for me to figure out who someone is, so having a mystery standing before me is a breath of fresh air.”

  “Sounds like a fancy way of saying I’m weird.”

  “I like complicated,” he said. “But I’m rambling now. What can I do for you?”

  “Wait. How old are you?” she asked. “You said you’ve seen a lot of people. You don’t look a day older than twenty, but I know looks can be deceiving around here.”

  “I am twenty,” he said.

  “Shut up.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re lying.”

  “How can you tell me if I’m lying or not? Wouldn’t I know?”

  “It’s impossible. You have your own shop and you’re established in Paragon. That didn’t happen overnight.”

  “Of course not. I had to grow up. I died when I was a baby.”

  “Oh,” she said. This time it was her turn for her cheeks to turn red.

  “Yeah, I was pretty sick. I think I was on Terra all of three days when I died and ended up here in Paragon. A nice family took me in and taught me the art of hair styling and dress making.”

  Remi snickered. The way he said “art,” it was like he was talking about a skill designed for the battlefield.

  “They left me this shop,” he said. “Okay, well, it’s both my shop and my home. I don’t mind carrying out business here though. I feel comfortable.”

  “Where are you parents now?”

  “Dead,” he said. Remi scowled.

  “You mean—”

  “Yes,” he replied. “They’re gone forever.”

  “How…um, how did they die?”

  “Langoran mercenaries on Terra. In order to improve on our crafts and designs, and to keep our reputations in Paragon high, we have to use materials that are uncommon. Given that there are people here in Paragon that have been around for centuries, it’s best to go to Terra for materials since the environment is constantly changing. They were with a scouting group and only one made it out alive. From what I was told, the group stumbled across something important and they were killed for it. That was five years ago.”

  “I’m sorry,” Remi said, and he reached up and wiped his eyes. There were no tears, but he was making sure he didn’t start.

  “No problem,” his voice cracked a bit. “Always willing to pour my heart out to a beautiful girl.”

  “Oh stop it,” she said, lifting her artificial arms. “What about this is attractive?”

  “I’m the last person to ask,” he laughed. “If you must know, I’ve made and seen plenty of dresses that are far more attractive than many people I’ve met.”

  “But they’re things.”

  “So are people in my mind,” he said. “It sounds strange, but I don’t think being able to spout off an opinion, walk around and exist makes you a person. To me, you’re no different than one of the Delilah’s machinations. No, you transcend objectivity and become a living, breathing being when you’re adding to the world. When you’ve found your calling and you’re happy and content. When you ignite that spark in others, and that notion makes you more excited than anything in the world.”

  “So a dress is more attractive?”

  “
In a sense, a dress knows what it is and doesn’t try to act outside of its designation. It doesn’t bring others down. It doesn’t force its opinion on anyone. It serves to glorify someone else. When one of my clients puts on one of my creations, they glow. They feel beautiful and so they begin acting beautiful. Even if they are a horrible and angry person, they can’t help but smile once they take a look in the mirror.

  But mirrors are evil, Remi thought to herself.

  “You’re still weird,” she said, and Ian burst out laughing.

  “Yeah, I am,” he said. “And as long as that’s alright with me, it’s alright.”

  “It looks like I came to the right place,” Remi replied. “While I’m here, would you make a dress for me that I can wear?”

  “For what occasion? Because dresses aren’t really your thing,” he said. “Well, not a casual one anyways.”

  “How could you know that?”

  “I can just tell,” he said. “If you cared so much about how you looked, you wouldn’t have come out in public looking like that.”

  Remi scowled.

  “No,” he laughed, slapping a hand on his forehead. “Oh no! That’s not what I meant. You’re still really cute and all, but it’s…let’s say that there’s a difference between those you really care and those who don’t. Let’s take people from Paragon for example. I’m sure you’ve noticed the make-up they cake on, and the careful coordinate outfits they put together.”

  “I see it right now,” she said, sticking out a tongue at him.

  “Oh, me?” he asked, looking down at his attire. “This is only because my clients expect this from me. It’s not who I am at all.”

  “Prove it,” she dared.

  “Prove it?” he said in confusion. “You mean…mess this all up?”

  “Yeah. It’s raining outside. You’re probably not getting any more clients. You might as well relax.”

  “Okay,” he said, giving her a wink. He reached down and ripped his vest off, sending the buttons flying. He disheveled his hair, rubbing his fingers through it like there was a bug attacking his scalp. He kicked off his shoes revealing mismatched colored socks, and he untucked his shirt but only on one side. With his hands still greasy from the hair gel, he rubbed his cheeks vigorously, until his face was glistening. “Better?”

  “You look absolutely disgusting.”

  “Stop lying, I’m still sexy as hell.”

  She laughed and he took a step toward her.

  “Your laugh is amazing,” he said. “Darn it, I only know a few jokes. I better use them sparingly.”

  It was then that Remi remembered something quite important.

  “I have a boyfriend,” she said suddenly. Ian was not taken aback.

  “Of course you do,” he said, but she could tell that he was disappointed.

  “Maybe I should go,” she said, but Ian pursed his lips and scowled.

  “Don’t be silly. We’re both adults here.”

  “It’s going to be awkward.”

  “What is?”

  “Don’t you have to…you know…to make a dress…don’t you need to take my measurements?”

  “The other tailors are creeps.”

  “But you’re a creep.”

  “No longer,” he declared, tucking his shirt back in. “Okay, let’s start over.”

  “I’m not having you measure me,” Remi replied, crossing her arms. “That’s final.”

  “Alright,” he said, untucking his shirt again. “But I don’t think you should go back out in that rain. It could be acid for all we know. I think we should sit and talk a bit.”

  “Acid?” she said.

  “It’s not impossible.”

  “Fine, you can do my hair,” she said, trying to stifle a smile. Ian tried to conceal his excitement as he ran into one of the side rooms and came back with a dining room chair.

  “We’re going to do it right here?” she asked.

  He nodded. “It won’t take long. I’m going to give you something that will look cute but still be functional. You don’t need a style that will fall apart the moment you head into battle.”

  “How do you know I fight?”

  “The artificial limbs are a big sign, but honestly? It’s the mark on your forehead.”

  “I keep forgetting this stupid thing,” she said, putting a hand up to her forehead. He motioned for her to sit down and she did. Ian ran his fingers through her strawberry hair like a surgeon looking for the right spot to make an incision. She could tell that he wasn’t a novice just based on his assessment.

  “Fascinating,” he said.

  “What?” she asked. She started turning her head but then he grabbed her temples and forced her to face forward.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered.

  “What’s fascinating?”

  “This hair is so soft. It’s like baby hair. Were you bald recently?”

  “Practically,” she said. “On Terra I was sick all the time. My hair would fall out, and it’s been that way since I was a child. It wasn’t until I came to Paragon that it flourished. This is the first time I’ve ever seen it so huge.”

  “Congratulations,” he said with sincerity as he made a few snips with his scissors.

  “Yeah, well, it won’t last for long. I’m going to have to go back to Terra soon enough.”

  “Why’s that?” he asked.

  “I have a mission to complete. I can’t stick around here all the time.”

  “I hear ya. You have to do what you have to do. It’s never fun going to Terra, but it’s necessary.”

  “You go to Terra?” she asked in surprise. “Even after…after what happened?”

  “Definitely.”

  “But why?” she asked as he forced her to face forward again.

  “Because I don’t let others dictate who I am and what I can accomplish. Not even my dead parents. Does it hurt? Sure, all the time. But I can’t let it stifle my creativity. If I want to be the best at what I do, that requires making sacrifices that others aren’t willing to take.”

  “Yeah…but sometimes, even the sacrifice is not worth the reward.”

  “Well, what is your mission? If you don’t mind me asking?”

  “I…I want to find the Seven Sorcerers.”

  “Any particular reason why?” His response caught her off guard. He didn’t think she was insane? He wasn’t going to immediately scoff and raise his eyebrows in judgement?

  “I…I think that I can persuade them to help in the war with Cimmerian. From what I’ve seen, the Sages, and even Paragon aren’t ready. We’re going to be slaughtered once Cimmerian gets serious. What they did to the Sorcerer weapons…that was just a test, to see what the response would be. Of course there was none.”

  “The Paragons are a proud, stubborn, stuck-up and self-centered people. They are also terrified of change, diversity, alternate ways of thinking and their own shadows. Yet, once they stop worrying about what others think, they start remembering why they arrived at Paradise in the first place. Deep down, they’re good people that mean well. The problem is when you get a bunch of them gathered together. They start feeding off each other instead of spreading out and expanding their horizons.”

  “Do you think they’ll fight back against Cimmerian?”

  “In the end they will, but they won’t fight well. They’re out of practice. And the Sages—there’s not enough of them. I don’t care how strong the Sages are. I’ve seen warriors that are stronger than them.”

  “The Sorcerers?”

  “Not even. Just warriors from the past. They’ve all gone their separate ways by now, as I assume the Sages will in a few more decades. Everyone hits a point in which they start looking out for themselves rather than each other.”

  “Not me,” she said, trying to keep her head still. She could feel him combing the back. “I don’t care if I die. I don’t care what it takes. I’ve lived this long—it can’t be for no reason. I can make a difference.”

  “Because of
how sick you used to be?”

  “Exactly,” she said. “I should be dead right now, but I’m still here.”

  “I knew there was something special about you,” he said, and once again, she was shocked by how casually she was opening up to him. It was strange. It felt like they were already old friends, even though she had just met him.

  “So you’re going on this trip to see the Sorcerers all by yourself?” he asked after a minute of silence went by, only the sounds of snipping and combing to entertain them.

  “I hope not,” she laughed. “I want someone to come with me, but…I don’t think that’s going to happen.”

  “Your boyfriend, uh—”

  “—Kace.”

  “Yeah, Kace. He’s not going with you?”

  “He said he was, but…I’m not as naïve as people may think. I’m pretty confident he’s not.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?”

  “Back on Terra, there was a fight in which I was involved. That was when I lost my arms and leg actually. I was out for two months as I recovered, and in that time, Kace found new friends and a new life. I’m happy for him, but things are a little different for both of us. Like me, he grew up sheltered, so he doesn’t know a whole lot about the outside world. He’s a Quietus, and in their culture, it’s all about being a warrior and being tough, and if you met Kace, you would know that he’s not any of those things. He tries well enough, but he gets his behind kicked all the time. He’s not really cut out to be a warrior, and I think he’s realizing it.

  “There’s a lot of Sages at the Academy that aren’t ready for battle. I don’t know if it’s because James never taught them properly, or they don’t really want to fight. Maybe they thought becoming a Sage was cool and so they struggled to release their eidolons with all they had. But once they achieved it, they weren’t ready to go beyond it. Kind of like here in Paragon, they suddenly had a great reputation. They were seen as better than others and they were praised for what they achieved so why aspire for more? They’ll fight when it’s time, but just like those in Paragon…they’re not preparing for the worst.”

  “And you are?”

  “I’m not that powerful, but I don’t give up. That counts for something.”