X. The Tailor

Behind the orphanage entrance, the sound of someone’s music box plays.
Its pitch is higher than both the monthlings’ and the Lady in Apron’s.
A series of clicks initiates the cogwheels inside the door.

The Lady in Apron signals us to clear the table and clean the remaining strings from it.

She waits until we are done, then places herself in front of the door.
Her throat is tightening.
She plays her note.
The mechanism starts moving again, louder sounds coming from the door, then, with a final thud, it finally unlocks.

The door opens and creaks under its weight.
We all try to catch a glimpse of the outside but the Lady in Apron blocks the view with her body.
The heels we previously heard are sharper now and followed by the tapping of a cane against the planks.

A tall figure enters.

“My greetings to you, Tailor. Welcome to the Northern Petal.”
She bows to him.

Never have we heard the Lady in Apron speak as she just did.
Her words are filled with respect and her voice trembles slightly.

This Tailor is taller than her, certainly due to his heeled boots and his posture. He is intimidating, even
the Lady in Apron appears small before him.

He opens his white jacket, which reaches down to his knees.
Under it, two dark braces hold his trousers.
His hat partially hides his face through the presence of a thin dark veil attached to its front and descending to his eyes.

“Thank you for the welcome, Caretaker.”

He pauses briefly.

“My arrival announces the beginning of the Ceremony in the great city-state of Harebell.”

Again, he pauses.

“The inspection and selection of the Pistils will commence to decide which ones will have the honor of attending it.”
A phrase every Tailor before him said, it is now the sixth time i hear it.
He speaks slowly with a deep, almost reassuring voice.
His sentences are thoughtful and carefully chosen.

He turns his head toward us.
We cannot see the direction of his gaze, yet I can feel his eyes switching between all of the monthlings.

“Naturally, may your selec-”

“They all pass the selection. I will take all of them.”

The Tailor interrupts her.

The atmosphere of the room changes in an instant.
The Lady in Apron stands still, startled by what she just heard.
Her eyes twitch, uncertain where to look while trying to figure out how to react.
We all stare at the scene.

“W-what is the meaning behind th-”

“You heard me. I am taking all of them to Harebell.”

He interrupts her again.

What is happening to her?
Why is the Tailor still breathing after interrupting her twice?

“T-Tailor…”

A stutter.
Am I dreaming?

“You are going against the protocol. I already gave you two of them.”

She no longer bows.

“If you take all of them, how will the Northern Petal prevent the whi-”

“The High Court of the Crown requires more hands to be put to work.”

With a flick of his wrist, a letter slides down his sleeve directly into his hand.

“I will not allow any more words of protest.
Your role ends here, Caretaker.
Until the end of the Ceremony, and by order of the High Court of the Crown, written within this letter, your Pistils will be removed from you.”

He hands the letter to her, adjusts his hat and taps his cane against the planks once.

The Lady in Apron’s head lowers in acceptance.

I cannot believe I am witnessing such an expression on her face.
Could she truly have grown attached to us?
I refuse to believe that.

“Orphans, follow the Tailor wherever he leads you.
His words are as mine.
You are under his ownership now.”

This could not turn out any better for me.

With his cane, he points toward the front door.
I hurry forward to cross the entrance.

I am among the many monthlings who have never seen what the outside looks like.
My eyes are wide open.
I will not miss a single fragment of what I am finally about to discover.

All those nights spent in the dark, surrounded by dust and the smell of old wood.
All those dreams we crafted from stories of what nature might look like.
All those times we reread the same orphanage books describing beautiful landscapes and vivid colors.

The sun is bright but I refuse to close my eyes.

This is it.
I feel a cold breeze against my face, a new scent enters my nostrils and I-
I….
W-…

What is that…?

I- it is all grey.

There are only rocks and why are the plants..

Where are the plains of yellow fields?
Where are the red flowers among the seas of green?
Where are the forests, the birds and the bees?

There is not a sound.
The wind mourns between the hills and colors are nothing but whites and greys.

Why would the quills lie?

The shock stops my feet from moving.

In front of me stands a carriage.
A box made of white metal with a closed door fits perfectly within this deceitful outside world.

The Tailor taps his cane against the door while playing his note.
It opens and reveals what it contains.

Benches are symmetrically positioned against the sides of the box.
At the far end, I see two black masses sitting side by side beneath a cloak.
The interior is not lit enough for me to understand what they are.

I climb the ledge and venture inside, walking toward the end.
Each step loudly shakes the thin side walls.
I already understand the intensity of the upcoming journey.

As I approach, I finally identify the masses.
A cloak covers them but there are two human bodies beneath it.

I sit and immediately the cloth slips, revealing one of the heads.

Mayth.

A loud gasp escapes my throat and my note plays alongside it.

Her presence surprises me, but the gasp comes due to the sight of the hole where her right eye should be.

Her remaining eye slowly opens.

She giggles weakly.

“S……….sup…..”

She continues laughing quietly.

My necklace.

I do not care about her eye, nor her presence here, nor anything concerning her.
The only thing I care about is my necklace.

I grab her shoulders.
She is half asleep, or… drugged.

As I speak, the other monthlings slowly enter one by one.

“I buried the flute in your garden like you asked in your message.
I risked everything for it.
Where is it, Mayth?
Where is my necklace?”

She slowly regains control of her body and uses it to laugh more properly.

“Oh…. this was b-before you….. screwed up my whole market….. Nolvem…..”

She tries to regain herself.

“What did you just say?”

My fists tighten around her shoulders.

“You… really thought I would give an item before receivin’ mine?
I run a business…
I ain’t no fool.”

I slam her shoulders against the wall behind her.
The noise is loud enough for the monthlings to turn toward us.

“Where is it, Mayth?”

“I… have it…. right…. here.”

She taps one of the cloak’s pockets with her finger.

I reach for it swiftly, hoping to surprise her.

I do not even have time to blink before I am pinned against the wall and struck across the jaw by the second figure emerging from beneath the cloak.

A burn covers his entire mouth and chin.
A wide stitched cut tears through the right side of his lips and cheek.
Brown hair flattened against his skull and eyes filled with nothing but anger and a deep desire for vengeance.

I cannot move.
His strength far surpasses mine.

“Oh no… wha- what has she-”

He hits my face again, forcing my mouth shut.

“There, there Decy, calm yaself’.
I understand her frustration, ya know, although,”

Mayth regains her lucidity, rises from her seat and grabs my cheeks with her fingers.

All I can look at is her missing eye.

“You want ya necklace?
I want my flute.
We made a deal on that.”

No.
I refuse.
After all I have done.

I try to force myself free but Decy pins me even harder.
The other monthlings ignore the scene and settle onto the benches to avoid trouble.

“Let me go take it!
Let me get it for you!”

I push Decy away with my legs but he does not even flinch.

“Atta girl!
Yeah, go for it!
Run, grab it for me, fetch fetch!”

Decy releases me.

I run and immediately trip face first over Jurny’s outstretched leg. He heavily laughs

“Go princess! Go!”

I feel my leg bend in a way it was never meant to.
I scream in pain but still force myself back up and limp outside the carriage.

As I step out and almost reach the orphanage door, the Tailor blocks my path.

“No! No! You don’t understand!
I need to… to pee!
I will pee on myself if I do not go right now!”

He nods in disapproval and points his finger toward the metal carriage.

“They are just there!
Right in front of the closet, look!
You can see them from here!”
I scream at him.

A cold painful sensation suddenly strikes my forehead and my body falls backward on its own.

As my head tilts down, I see the Tailor’s arm raised, his hand gripping the end of his cane.

I hit the ground.

I hear Jurny and Mayth laughing together from the front row, watching me.

Where are the colors of the sky?
Why is the dirt covering me so grey?
Why do I hear laughter instead of the beautiful melodies birds are supposed to sing?

I… wonder…