On the way to the tailor, Fritz remembered his haul of Treasures from the Browncoats and told Lauren of the loot. He placed some emphasis on the staff that could conjure light and asked if she would find it useful.

"Perhaps," she said thoughtfully. "While it's not perfect, it's not as if one could say no to such a gift. Though it could serve as a good bartering piece when we all go to the Treasury."

"Right, we still need to scout the Treasury and its auctions out too," Fritz said, nearly groaning at another task that had slipped his mind.

"I've visited a few times," Lauren said. "Unfortunately, most of the useful Treasures were far out of the reach of my meagre funds. Or were simply set up to be traded for another Treasure of a particular kind. That, and I wasn't able to make use of any noble entitlements one Lord Hightide or his broker might."

"Broker?" Fritz asked.

"The representative of a noble too busy to attend the auctions, or to trade themselves," Lauren explained. "After my sister's marriage to Lord Seavine, my mother was hoping to be elevated to their House's broker. One of the main reasons she encouraged and pursued the potential marriage so eagerly."

"Going so far as to trade her daughter's hand?" Fritz guessed.

"It's a fine deal," Lauren said. "The prestige and privileges that come with such an arrangement are worth more than gold. And it's not as if Angelica minds. In fact, the greedy harlot welcomes it. She can't wait to become a true Lady and rub my face in all her unearned achievements."

A bitter note had entered her tone as she talked about her sister, but she didn't air any further grievances, though it looked like she wanted to.

"Speaking of your family, how did you fare upon reuniting and returning that fire rod Treasure?" Fritz asked.

Lauren's face fell.

"What happened to 'no prying'?" She challenged.

"We're not in the Spire anymore. And I've told you plenty about my own affairs, too much some could say," Fritz said.

Lauren sighed, but couldn't argue against the truth. "It didn't go as I'd hoped."

"How did you hope it would go?"

"I was expecting harsh words and some reprimands, but I thought they would at least be happy to see me safe and pleased that I had become a powerful Pather."

She sighed again.

"I ended up in an argument with my mother. She was more concerned for the missing Treasure than for me. It was... disappointing. It... hurt. Angelica didn't make anything easier, she called me a thief. She said I was jealous of her and that I was trying to ruin both her and my own marriageability, with my 'wild and wanton ways'. As if I care about that. I'm a fire mage, the third to ever be born in Rain City. And while she's at the altar, trading her vows, I'll be Climbing the Rain Spire. She'll be trapped in monotonous matrimony and I'll be on an adventure. And then another and another."

"Well said," Fritz praised. "It'll be an exciting Climb, no doubts there."

Lauren grinned fiercely and Fritz wondered, not for the first time, if she were more than a little mad. He had something of a talent for finding a lot of odd individuals. It was not a particularly worrying trend, but he would be relieved to find a nice, normal person to befriend for once. He realised that was unlikely, he was a Climber after all and a little strange himself, at times.

They didn't speak much further and soon they arrived at Colette's shop. Fritz opened the door, holding it for Lauren in a gentlemanly manner.

They were greeted by one of the assistants, Phil, who called for the clothier. He said she had been cloistered in her sewing room for days, only coming out to eat and sleep. And even then she had to be dragged away from the sirensilk.

"It's like she's possessed," the assistant said.

"Enchanted," the other assistant, Gina, added.

"I can't blame her. It's a wonderful fabric."

"Truly decadent."

"Are any of the commissioned pieces ready?" Fritz asked the two eager twins.

"We're not supposed to say," Phil said as he slyly smiled.

"It's a secret," Gina stated, her face a portrait of self-satisfaction.

"Wait here, if you'd be so kind. I'll go find our master," Phil said.

"Very well," Fritz said.

The man bowed quickly, then strode away.

"In the meantime, is there anything I can assist with?" Gina smiled politely, smoothing her dress and tilting her head slightly in a pretty way.

Lauren's eyes gleamed with embers and she was about to say something horribly forward, so Fritz quickly cut her off before any awkwardness or flirting could ensue. He had business here and couldn't afford the distraction either outcome would entail.

"I do have a couple of articles of clothing I require and plenty that need mending," he said. Then he expanded on his desires. There were the simple things he needed for his nightly activities, like dark, durable trousers and shirts, and a black overcoat, preferably one with a hood. And then there were more mundane items, such as sleepwear, undergarments and training clothes, most of which needed more than one set.

Gina had eyed him curiously when he had mentioned undergarments, looking him up and down as if she were peering through his clothes. She smiled coyly and to her credit, she didn't blush too badly when he smiled back.

Lauren clicked her tongue quietly, obviously annoyed at the attention he was receiving.

It was quite the list all said and done, the assistant had even begun writing down his requests on a wax tablet. As soon as he was finished, Lauren also began dictating some of her current needs. Before long the assistant was bustling this way and that, searching through unsold items to see if any would fit or could be altered swiftly. There were one or two such articles of clothing and Fritz and Lauren bought them without much haggling.

"She's giving us good prices," Lauren whispered.

"Must be because of our generous commissions," Fritz replied.

"It's because you're too handsome by half and you've enthralled the poor girl," Lauren accused.

Fritz smirked. "Is that envy I hear?"

"No," she huffed. "Just annoyance."

"Ah, if only you were a hair more beautiful, maybe she'd be enthralled by you instead," Fritz professed.

She aimed to stomp on his foot, but he slipped away easily, causing her to thump the floorboards.

The sound startled Gina and she looked up from the basket of cloth she was digging through.

Luckily for Lauren, that's when Colette appeared, a bundle of sirensilk held in her arms.

"Francis!" She cried brightly, beaming through her apparent weariness. "Just in time! I finished your shirt only last night."

"Ah, so soon?" Fritz asked. Though it felt like months rather than days.

"Later than I would have liked, though I made yours third. Had to make sure I sewed yours just right," she explained, setting down her bundle and picking through it.

There was a certain implication that she had used his team's own commissions as practice, but Fritz couldn't force himself to care. He was the Captain, a great benefactor and leader, so he deserved the best.

"This is one is yours." She held aloft a shirt of dark purple, it would be almost black if not for the slight sheen of deep violet. The seams and lines were clean, expressive and elegant, and it would not have looked out of place at a royal ball. The collar was bold, pronounced, and the buttons down the shirt's length were of a bright, polished silver.

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It was marvellous. A true piece of art.

He took it and immediately slipped behind a screen to change. His linen shirt flew off and the siren silk slid on, caressing his skin like a cool breeze. However luxurious it looked, it felt at least three times better. It was smooth and light, beyond even the finest of silks. It fit him perfectly, letting him stretch and shift without it pulling on him or impeding his movements.

Excitedly, he raised his fists and punched out a quick, jab, straight and hook. The cuffs sounded out in splendid clear snaps. He lowered his arms and revelled in the feeling of the fabric, Dusksong sang, high and happy and deeply delighted, just as much as Fritz was.

Then he noticed Gina, who had a clear line of sight behind the screen and who he had hastily overlooked.

She had obviously seen him remove and replace his shirt and was dazedly staring at him with dull, naked desire.

"Come on out, let's see how the shirt fits," Colette called.

Fritz did as asked, ignoring the eyes locked on him.

"Fabulous," Colette gasped. "It looks even better than I had hoped. We just need to finish the outfit with a proper coat and trousers. Oh, and a belt that doesn't look like a skinned eel. You should also visit a hattery to complete the impression of a young nobleman."

"I am a young nobleman," Fritz said.

"Yes, but you should look like one," Colette argued.

"I don't already?"

"Maybe, an impoverished one perhaps," Colette allowed.

"Hardly impoverished, more miserly and lacking mores," Lauren provided. "Still, it does look good," She added thoughtfully, then snapped out of her slight stupor and looked at Colette. "How goes the progress on my robes?"

"Oh, that," she replied, some of her smile falling away. "Slowly I'm afraid, Ms. Nearshore. I have been pestering an acquaintance of mine, one who specialises in robes, but he is mighty busy, considering all the new Climbers. There is however another avenue to explore, it will just take me some time and gold."

Lauren was obviously displeased.

"I apologise, the robes are a far bigger project and I just want to do the finest work I can," Colette explained.

Lauren smoothed her features and nodded graciously.

"Here is Rosie's dress. And here are George and Cal's shirts," Colette said, moving on to matters she could feel proud of.

Fritz scanned the items of clothing, and while the thread and seams weren't quite as clean as the sewing of his own shirt they were far from clumsy and could serve as any good noble's finest attire. Colette had definite skill, he hadn't doubted it, of course, but this looked to be some of the best tailoring done in the city. He wondered why no one else patronised her as his parents, and now himself, had.

His thoughts remained unanswered as Colette soon found another thing to fuss over, the list Fritz had dictated to Gina. She frowned at some of the items.

"Black clothing, a coat with a hood?" Colette read suspiciously. "You're not planning any more... mischief? Are you?"

"You know me. Mischief would be my middle name if I had one," Fritz said, laughing.

The tailor frowned and might have gone on to reprimand him if not for Fritz pulling out a small patch of cloth and asking, "Do you know what this is?"

She took the square of fabric and rubbed it between her fingers. "No, I'm not sure what this is made of though it seems normal enough. Where did you get it?"

"In the Mer Spire, found it in a chest. It's not a Treasure, though it is magical. I checked with a Know-note," Fritz said.

"Hmm," Colette hummed, creasing her brows as she thought. "Come with me let's see if there's something about it in one of my books."

Fritz nodded and followed the woman as she led him into her chaotically arranged workshop. She rifled through old, thin catalogues and patterns while he waited. After some minutes Colette let out an exclamation.

"Ah ha! I think I have something here. It looks like this is what is called a Slim Pocket."

"A slim pocket?" Fritz asked, somewhat disappointed.

"Don't sound so dejected, Francis. Listen to what it can do first," she lightly chided. "When sewn onto a piece of clothing and Activated with an appropriate amount of gold triads; six to nine in most cases, depending on quality; the Slim Pocket will present as an empty pocket even when otherwise full. Some such pockets also have expanded space within them, up to three times its apparent size."

Fritz's eyebrows rose in genuine surprise and he smiled eagerly. He hadn't expected such an innocuous item to have such an interesting use. While it seemed the pocket wouldn't hide what was within from a thorough search, he could sneak whatever he needed past a pat-down or a cursory inspection.

"This is quite valuable, Francis," Colette said.

He barely listened to the quoted price of five hundred to a thousand gold, he had already decided to keep it and make good use of its properties. The only question was where to sew it and to what. The what was easy to solve, the sirensilk shirt would be a prime choice. The where was harder. It might be too conspicuous on the front and too difficult to reach if sewn on the inside.

He looked down at his shirt and admired the fabric again before, furrowing his brow and thinking on his dilemma. Absently, he adjusted his cuffs and made a note to acquire some cuff links to secure them better. That's when the thought struck him to ignore the proper places for a pocket.

"Colette, does the Slim Pocket have to be sewn in any place in particular? Or could it be tucked away, perhaps hidden?" Fritz asked.

Colette paused, then returned to her gaze to the pages open in front of her.

"There's nothing about the placement requiring any special considerations," she hedged. "But Francis, you should really sell or trade this. It says here that it's rare, and this here book is from the Empire, not Rain City. It might be worth a Treasure, or who knows what else."

"I know where I want it sewn," Fritz stated.

"Are you sure? Once it's activated it can't be moved to another garment without breaking its magic and rendering it useless," she warned, pointing to a line of glyphs on the page.

Fritz hesitated. Another Treasure could always be a boon, especially if it had a defensive, stealth or detection Ability. Still, this was right here and in front of him, and he could hide away something just as powerful or lifesaving.

"Do we know how much the Slim Pocket can hold?" Fritz asked. "It's already larger than my hand, double or triple that could be quite large."

"You will lose some of that when I have to fold it and sew it," she said.

Fritz considered. The space would be smaller than he'd hoped, and perhaps a Treasure in trade could be a far better prospect. Though, he reminded himself that something like a healing potion or an antidote could likely fit within the pocket, maybe something larger depending on the quality. Even if it wasn't nearly as powerful as an Ability like Cal's Personal Pack it could still be invaluable.

"Do you think you could sew it in for me now?" Fritz entreated.

"If you're sure," she said.

"I am," Fritz said.

"On your new shirt, I presume?"

"If you could."

---

Fritz left Colette's shop with a bag full of clothes and a promise that the rest of what he had sought would be sent along to his home when they were done being made. Lauren's stride was one that stomped, apparently, she was dissatisfied.

"Colette's working hard," Fritz said. "And battle robes are difficult to design and sew."

"I know that," Lauren said. "It's something else."

Fritz nodded, but didn't press further. She didn't look in the mood to talk and it was something romantic if the awkward air he had returned to in the tailors shop was anything to go by.

They decided not to go straight home and instead made their way into the Thoroughfare market.

There Fritz purchased a pair of relatively cheap cuff links. They were simple circles of brass and didn't match his buttons, but with the rate he was spending he couldn't justify using any of his remaining funds for vanities sake.

While in the market he struck up some conversations and attempted to learn more of House Wavereach. They currently owned the land of the Refuge and he wanted to speak to whomever had authority there, if he could. What rumours he heard soon painted a bleak picture for his prospects in gaining permission to improve the conditions of the Refuge and those living there.

The Count Marvin Wavereach was the current head, and it was said that, over the last decade, the nobleman had become something of a recluse, and had wasted much of his wealth on search parties to find his lost heir. And that each year he would send a Climbing group up the Rain Spire with the express command to find his son.

Everyone knew that rescue from a Spire was a fanciful notion, that even the greatest trackers and hunters couldn't confidently find their quarry and those that claimed they could were often mountebanks and swindlers. If the missing Climbers weren't simply dead, the Spires were a confusing mess of Doors and Floors, and making any attempt to save someone lost within was a true exercise in futility.

At least, that's how it was in Rain City.

After that was the part of the story Fritz already knew, that the Hightide Guide had disappeared with the scions of both Wavereach and Rain. The king had been furious, and the Count had been devastated. Apparently, it was the second such tragedy to strike his House in as many weeks. His wife having passed, awfully, from some sudden wasting sickness.

All Fritz heard of Count Wavereach reinforced the image of a grieving widower and father who couldn't let go of even the slimmest hope his son survived. The simmering anger and rightful resentment Fritz had for the nobleman, who was said to hold his estates in trust, was doused considerably the more he listened. It was a pitiable tale and filled with pain Fritz could sympathise with.

When Fritz was done gathering information, or rather was too tired to continue, he returned home, meeting a familiar face on the way.

"George, what's in the crate?" Fritz asked.

George turned his head and smiled.

"Metal. Steel, rainsteel, silver, brass and bronze," he explained, tilting the crate and allowing Fritz to see all the ingots.

"What's it all for?" He asked.

George frowned slightly. "For that device, remember?"

"Right, of course," Fritz said swiftly. It had completely slipped his mind, he was far too tired and had far too many tasks and worries drawing his attention. "Starting on that already?"

"Best to get started early, in case there's trouble," George said. "Because there's always trouble."

"True as the rain," Fritz agreed.

"What's in the bag?" George asked.

"Ah. Our sirensilk commissions from Colette," Fritz provided. "Your shirt is in here, it's quite nice, though I don't know why you went with white."

"Pure and clean. And white goes well with a lot of outfits," George stated.

Fritz nodded, and walking together in quiet companionship they found their way home.

Once there, he rang the hall bell and called everyone to gather in the lounge. George joined him after putting his burdens away and Cal appeared some minutes later with the black dust of charcoal on his fingers. He must have been practising his writing.

"Where's Rosie?" Fritz asked.

Cal shrugged. "Out. What's this about? I have to get started on lunch soon."

Fritz opened the sack and threw a shimmering blue shirt at him. "Your commission, my good man."

Cal caught it, then smiled wide. "Wow! It looks great."

"Put it on."

"What? Right now?"

"Go on, it's just us men here," Fritz said, throwing a second shirt to George.

Cal grumbled, but he was just as eager to try on his new clothing.

When they had buttoned up and stood proudly in their new garments, Fritz threw them some cuff links identical to his own.

"Doesn't quite suit the silver buttons, but they'll do for now I hope," Fritz said.

They nodded and looked themselves over. Fritz could admit that the shirts suited them, Cal's choice of sirensilk was blue with a silver sheen, contrasting well with his dark hair and grey eyes. George's was a white that gleamed golden in the light. It suited his yellow irises and tanner-than-average skin.

"Wish we had a mirror," Cal groused.

"We do, Lauren has a tall one in her room," Fritz said.

Cal hesitated. "I don't think she'd appreciate us trampling into her bedroom."

"What the gentleman you've become. I'm proud you've taken my lessons to heart and set aside your slum-savage ways," Fritz said. "But I'm sure Lauren won't mind if we only take a moment or two."

"She would mind," Cal and George said together.

"Yes, I would, mind," Lauren said, appearing at the lounge door, scowling and handing off a bag of small items to Cassandra.

"Oh, come now, Lauren," Fritz said. "Look these fine men in their finery and tell me they shouldn't even see their own splendour."

Lauren frowned then looked over the two men, smiling sheepishly in their shirts. Then she sighed, then smiled. "You may as well borrow it for now. Though you should think about getting your own mirrors," she relented.

"Many thanks, Lady," Fritz said.

"Thanks, Lauren," the other two intoned.

And with that, they left to go admire themselves.

Fritz joined them going up the stairs, but left them as they peered into the mirror with wide grins. They turned and posed, marvelling at how the fabric shimmered. He wanted to share in the joy, however, there were other tasks he must attend. Also, he could feel that he had to sleep, and soon.

He grabbed his writing kit and began to write out a letter to Count Wavereach, requesting an audience. He hadn't much hope it would succeed, due to his name of Hightide and the hatred and blame that might carry, but he had to try. For the Refuge's sake.

He had the letter mostly completed by the time lunch was ready. He intended to finish it and send it out that very day, but after he had filled his stomach and returned to his room he was already dozing on his feet.

He fell into bed without undressing and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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