89 – Malach

Walking into the back room of the Hem and Stitch, Vivi was met with Malach, the Tailor of Vanguard—once a spritely young mouse beastkin, now bent-over and cane-wielding. With so many years having passed, and time having affected him with only some mercy thanks to his craftsman ranks, he competed with Aeris in his wrinkled and ancient appearance. Despite how the archmage was five times Malach’s age.

She wouldn’t honestly have recognized him if she’d run into him on the street. The Malach she remembered had been a young man, a small, well-dressed mouse beastkin with an intelligent gleam in his brown eyes. Some of that hadn’t changed—the brown eyes and well-dressed parts—but all else had felt the weight of a century. Hunched over as he was, Malach might have been the first grown adult she’d met that was shorter than her. Though if he straightened his crooked back out, that probably wouldn’t be the case.

His face crinkled into a kind smile when he saw her walk in. There was no surprise, proving that her earlier assumptions had been correct: Rafael’s correspondence and recent events at Meridian had prepared the beastkin for her arrival. Malach opened his mouth, probably to greet her by name, but hesitated, eyes flicking to the young man who had remained hovering by the doorway.

“Thank you, Ferric. I’ll speak privately with our guest now.”

“Yes, grandpa,” the boy said, seeming disappointed that he hadn’t snuck so much as a name. “Call if you need me.”

“I will.”

The boy spared one last look at Vivi, not distrusting, but curious and squinty-eyed nonetheless.

When the door closed behind him, Malach’s smile brightened again. “Lady Vivisari. Somehow, I am both completely unsurprised to see you, and shaken to my very bones.”

Shaken? That caught Vivi off guard. He didn’t seem shaken.

“After all,” he continued, “a man might prepare for many years for an eventuality like death, but when it pounces on him, he will without exception be caught by surprise.” He paused, then cleared his throat. “Not that I compare your presence to death, Vivisari. Perhaps that was a poor choice of words.”

She didn’t take offense; she was amused, if anything, that she wasn’t the only one who sometimes picked her words wrong. “Malach. I’m glad to see that you’re doing well.”

“Well?” Laughter bubbled out of him, shortly turning into a coughing fit that had Vivi stepping forward in concern. He waved her away. “My years are numbered, there is no need to pretend otherwise. But I am as well as a man of my age can hope to be, that is true. In any case, I consider myself blessed to see you one more time.”

“One more time?” Vivi asked, alarmed.

“Metaphorically speaking,” Malach hastily corrected. “One last decade, perhaps? If I’m lucky.” He waved his hand, embarrassed. “Ah, I’m making a fool of myself with this introduction.” He hobbled up on his cane, closing the distance between them. “I know you aren’t the touchiest of people, Vivisari, but indulge this old man?” He spread open his free arm.

Vivi hesitated, but accepted the hug. Malach didn’t try to scoop her in; it was a brief contact, a gentle squeeze that only left her feeling somewhat awkward. He chuckled as he pulled back.

“I’m pleased to see you of sound spirit and mind as well, Vivisari.” He opened his mouth, then seemed to change his mind on what he was going to say. “I’m finishing up a personal project—would you like to join me?”

The request caught her by surprise. She wondered if she should turn him down and get to the point. But she pushed that idea away. If he was ‘finishing up,’ she could spare a moment; she wasn’t in that big a rush, and a hundred-year-reunion deserved more than a brusque conversation where she demanded he return to Vanguard before immediately flitting off. If the task dragged, she might explain that she was in a hurry, but otherwise, a few minutes was fine.

“I’d love to,” she said. “How can I help?”

Malach set her to work, and the experience made Tailoring the third of the co-crafting skills she needed to familiarize herself with. She had scanned through the various abilities in advance, so she didn’t struggle with finding her place.

As she busied herself under Malach’s guidance, she couldn’t help the rising curiosity on a topic she’d latched onto since the moment she’d seen the exterior of Malach’s shop. Especially because Malach didn’t fill the air himself, letting her mind wander as it pleased.

“It’s an interesting store you have here,” she began tentatively.

“We both know what you mean by that,” Malach replied, unbothered. “Ask me plainly. The heavens know you aren’t the only person to do so.”

She hesitated. “Why are you crafting level zero clothing?” Because she recognized the materials being worked with, and the general intent behind his current project. It wasn’t silver- or even bronze-rank gear, but a sturdy cloth shirt that someone who’d never once advanced a combat class might wear.

Malach hummed. “There’s a long answer, and a short one. I’ll give you the second: because I find it fulfilling.”

Vivi digested that answer, and Malach once again didn’t speak to fill the quiet, working away diligently. When nearly a minute had passed, she asked, “You don’t find grandmaster-level projects fulfilling?”

“I do,” he said. “That’s why I still accept requests through the Tailor’s Guild, should something catch my eye. But if I have to choose between spending what remains of my life catering to mithrils and orichalcums, or stitching a shirt that a good family man will spend twenty or more years wearing? A shirt that will give him endurance and strength he’ll never know about, to push him through the difficult days?” He held up the almost-finished project in question, nodded to himself, and smiled. “I find something deeply appealing in that. The choice was easy, in retrospect, however long it took me to make it.” After a moment, he added, “There’s some professional interest, too. Crafting zero-level gear is trickier than it might seem.”

Vivi could see how that would be true. A piece of gear’s bonuses were tied intrinsically to its level rating. Getting any effect at all on something that qualified as level zero would be an interesting puzzle.

There was an obvious logistical problem that came to mind, though. Malach had said the customers would ‘never know about’ those benefits. How?