The Written Works: The Tailor's Quest - Part 3

She spent a few days in the camp with the criminals, unable to find a good opportunity of escape. When she awoke in the middle of the night, she always found either the man, whose name was Dyrokk, or Shyla, guarding the camp. When either of them saw her leaving her tent, they would give her a blank stare, which would instantly prompt her to return back inside. 

Though she was given food and water, and a slight amount of freedom, she felt as though she had escaped prison only to be put into another form of prison. Like a horse transferring from one stable to another, her environment was all that changed. Her situation had stayed the same.

She watched as criminals came and went, some bringing back gold and various shiny things with them. She was always barred from truly seeing what they had come back with, though, and where they kept it. Despite her best efforts, they refused to trust her fully. This made her fear that they could tell her intentions already- to escape and never look back. 

One late night, after the moon and its children had risen, and the other criminals had gone to bed, Jordini sat in her tent, hands over her stomach. She thought only of her characters at this time, and of nothing else. She was both resentful that she could not get to them as easily as she hoped, and fearful that she would be unable to reach them before they separated. She had counted the days, and she had wasted far too much time- eleven to twelve days had already been spent, and she hadn’t covered much ground. She sighed, rolling to her side and adjusting her hat.

As she prepared to close her eyes, she heard the rustling of fabric, as the flap of her tent was opened. An instantly recognizable, very muscular shadow came over her, prompting her to sit up.

“Yes?”

Shyla looked at her, blinking slowly.

“Did I wake you?”

“No, I was just about to sleep, but I was not sleeping. What have you come for?”

“Tomorrow you and I are going on a mission.”

Jordini nodded, trying to mask the excitement she felt, but failing miserably.

“And before you get your hopes up, I’m ordered not to let you out of my sight.”

Jordini nodded hesitatingly, leaning back against the tent post.

“Is there any other news?”
“No, you can go back to sleeping now. ‘Night.”

“Goodnight.”

Shyla left her tent, taking her place by the fire with her daggers glinting in the moonlight’s harsh glare. Jordini lay back down and, in the same position as before, continued to think about her characters and stories well into the night, before she exhausted herself and fell asleep.

 

Jordini’s entire spirit and soul shivered with the fright of committing a true crime. Shyla had kept true to her word- her eyes were locked on Jordini the entire time, with a glare that said, “If you move even a single step out of place, I will bash your skull in.”

“Hey, we’re gonna intercept that wagon. See it? Ready?” Shyla crouched behind a bush, watching a wooden wagon pull into the path, its nervous driver doing his best to command the unsteady horses.

It was truly ironic. She was assigned to do the very thing she had previously been tasked with preventing. Shyla waited, holding her hand up to prevent Jordini from jumping out too early. They sat, like panthers, stalking their prey.

The wagon came closer to them, and Shyla lowered her hand, jumping out with her daggers in hand. Jordini jumped out with her, every muscle in her body quivering. However, at the sight of them, the nervous driver suddenly became dead serious, shouting at the back of his wagon in a foreign language. Shyla’s eyes widened, and she pushed Jordini back.

“It’s a trap!” she exclaimed, throwing a dagger for the driver’s head.

The driver dodged, and two men in official uniforms burst out from the back of the wagon, clothes lint covering them entirely. Shyla began running, fully expecting Jordini to follow her and not looking back twice.

The decision she was faced with was difficult. She did not wish to have her skull bashed in, or to make unnecessary enemies. However, she took too long to ponder what to do. Next thing, she found herself face-down in the dirt path, two muscular figures on top of her. One of them was reading her rights to her; the other, sitting her up to listen.

“And anything you say can be used against you in a court of law-”

“Might I interject?”

The officers looked at each other for a while, as the driver came over and looked at her.

“You escaped from prison recently, judging by those bright orange trousers.”

Jordini looked down, trying her best to invent a scheme to get out of this.

“Well, it is a rather interesting story. I… I was abducted by the woman you saw with me. Yes. She is part of a criminal organization. And she tried to make me commit the crime with her. These pants I received from them- they are not mine. Mine had holes in them, and these were the only pants they had in my size.”

“That’s odd, considering they keep intercepting all the fabric orders.”

“They make them into shirts and use them as fuel for their fire. They do not make pants out of them very often, for no one is skilled in making pants.”

The driver gave her a doubtful scowl, and the officers stood her upright.

“Where do you come from?”

“The city where the shipment is intended to go, sirs,” Jordini nodded, trying her best to prevent her voice from wavering, “I am a normal citizen, and I did not mean to be roped into this. If you must bring me to the station, I understand completely. I am happy to offer a witness report.”

The officers nodded, putting her in the back of the wagon with them. The back was filled with fabrics of all kinds, which had clearly housed two large figures in them once. She was taken to a small station in the city, where they had decided that she seemed trustworthy. She was very lucky that she was not in a Psychic Kingdom city- they would have known she was lying just by a glance. Nothing got past them. However, these were likely Fire Kingdom people. They could not tell that every detail was entirely fabricated.

A few hours passed, and the officers let her off with a warning- any suspicious activity she committed, any at all, would land her in jail. She nodded and went her own way, seeing the wagon with the shipment parked outside the tailor’s.

The tailor. She had completely forgotten they were still here. Jordini walked in, hoping the same receptionist that she had met a few days before was working the counter. To her joy, she was. They looked at each other, and she led her back to the back room once again.

“Hello.” the woman said to her, a perplexed look on her face.

“Hello, I am sorry for the inconvenience, but I have prevented the shipment from being intercepted.”

“I did see that. And that was your doing?”
Jordini nodded.

“And where did you go? Why did you take so long?”

“Hm… personal issues.”

“I see,” the woman bowed her head. “I am one to honor my deals. Please wait here. I shall check over your measurements and give them to the seamstresses. Your clothing will be done in a couple of hours.”

“Thank you so much, miss!” Jordini fiddled with the sleeves of the jacket wound around her waist, then bowed to the woman.

“Of course.”

She left, and only an hour later, in she came once again, with a shirt and pant combo which seemed just her size. She put it on and it fit perfectly. The shirt was a light cyan color, made of a loose fabric and sewn together with large strands of darker blue leather cord. The pants were of a thicker material, working pants which creased in every direction. While any person of distinguished class would have looked upon these clothes as those of a peasant, they seemed much nicer than the clothes she had now.

That marked the completion of yet another conquest under Jordini’s ever-expanding belt. Jordini left the tailors’ feeling new- now it would be much easier for her to blend in. She snapped the bending collar of the shirt up, as she always had done with every collared shirt she owned, and set out on her adventure once again.