Black Magus

Giorno Nojo.

***

“You’re late.”

'This woman.’ I groaned to myself as I shut my door, then turned to see a plump and stout woman standing with her fists on her hips and an impatiently avaricious frown stitched onto her face. “It’s hardly sunrise, Letta. What’s the rush?”

“What’s the rush?” She turned down the corridor with a contemptuous scoff, nearly knocking me upside the head with her bag in the process. “We have one day before we leave the empire for good. We have to get there early if we want the good spots.”

While she indeed had a point, I couldn’t wrap my head around the why behind her acquisitive nature. Growing up poor and in turn desiring wealth was natural. But no one was truly poor in Odissi. At least in the sense of lacking food, clothing, and shelter. Besides that, we were being paid a more than generous wage of hundreds of gold coins a month. We could buy almost anything we wanted in this place; save a few high-end, heavily enchanted goods made from the rarest materials; and yet, Letta Sinclare was all but determined to make as much coin as possible.

I, however, wasn’t one to pry, so I stayed silent and admired the volcanic views on the way through the guest caldera until I once again became infatuated with the sights within the incredibly spacious commercial hub. It was a caldera in itself, lined around the circumference with tower-esque poplar trees and obsidian water features that harmonized with the subtle sounds of soft music and pre-dawn chatter. Such features served to coerce one’s eyes into surveying the landscape of pavilioned walkways, awninged huts, and oversized navigational signs, in turn forcing upon my nose the pungent pockets of exotic dishes being prepared for the early morning rush.

Most importantly of all, there were plenty of beautiful ladies roaming the place. Dozens of them. Tall ladies, short ladies, thick ladies, petite ladies. Amazonian ladies. In every skin tone, hair color, and disposition one could ever hope to imagine. As a youthful, soon-to-be-christened Initiate, it was the greatest gallery I could ever hope to find myself in. I was always in close proximity to pretty ladies, of course. But first, I had a strict no-coworker policy I adhered to. Second, I preferred a more… robust and mature woman. Much like His Grace, I’ve come to learn.

Alas, I had a job to do. So I hopped into the line behind Letta and brought a smoke to my lips while we waited, eliciting an immediate exclamation of disgust from the otherwise passive woman. "You’re going to be a bad influence on His Grace if you keep that up.”

“I, nor anyone in all the realms can influence His Grace into to doing anything he doesn’t already want to do.” I snorted out a cloud of smoke.

“Next!”

Letta’s imminent reply was cut short by the grumpy old man before us. Who, after capturing our attention, continued speaking as if we’d just finished with the formalities. “A booth rental agreement comes with a booth, display cases, an exterior sign, and access to the service facilities. A half-day rental will cost you fifty silver. Add another fifty if you want to stay for the night. Ho-”

“A gold for a full day?” Letta spat. “That’s practically robbery!”

I stepped between them at once to not-so-subtly whisper in my ill-manner companion’s face. “Mind your manners, Letta!” then, I turned to the man with an offering of two gold coins and an apologetic bow.

“Keep your coin, Sir. And, thank you.” The man bowed back. “Now, as I was saying. You two are given a pass, due to your position as His Grace’s vassals. Simply tell me your names and what wares you are to sell and I shall take care of the rest.”

Much to my dismay, Letta cheekily told him the requested information while he just accepted it without question. A sight that rightly served to sicken me. But I fought it down to speak in the most dignified manner I could muster. “I, Giorno Nojo, am a tailor.”

He stepped away from his podium with nothing more than a few scribbles in his notebook, allowing another to seamlessly take his place while he led us through the tented labyrinth that was the market.

While I continued to enjoy the bountiful sights wandering around the place, the experience had been veritably ruined by the display I just witnessed. Thus my mind was busy formulating a slew of dialog instead of enjoying the proverbial field of flowers around me. We stopped at the border of the tools department, off to the side and a way down from the entrance. There marked the beginning of the equipment department, starting with a subsection dedicated to field and casual wear or luxury equipment.

After some kind words to the organizer, I was able to acquire a booth next to Letta. Who was already busy unpacking her things to lay out her wares across the displays. While I took the time to do the same, I also made sure to voice my restrained opinion to her.

“Listen, Letta,” I growled. “I don’t care if you lust after gold for the rest of your days. Be like a dragon for all I care. But I refuse to remain idle while you disgrace His Grace like you just did. Now, I don’t want to cause a scene, so I’ll leave it at that.”

As I half-expected, she remained silent and only continued laying out her wares with her usual cheerful aura. But I’d long since gained the ability to see through her ruse. I could tell my words had fueled the fire within her. Yet the fact that she didn’t act on it could only be taken as a good sign. So I minded my own business and turned to the pile of clothes before me to methodically organize the racks by degrees of formality, then subdivided them by color palate before dividing each rack a final time by size. With that done, I went on to organize my field equipment in the display case before tending to my sign.

With the paint provided, I stenciled a simple, yet elegant name onto a slab of wood hanging above my little shop. Then stepped back to admire my creation with a prideful eye.

“JoJo’s Boutique, huh?” A voice came from behind me. “I like it. It’s catchy, self-explanatory, and most of all, easy to remember.”

I turned to see a rather… bulbous man standing next to me, grinning as wide as I was as he gazed upon my shop. He wore some strange type of reed shoe that’d been bundled tightly around his feet with no sort of seam to be seen. Offering almost no protection to the hilariously small legs and feet supporting a barrel belly covered in equal parts overalls and beard. Hugging such a wide body was a pair of blubber-coated arms that were just as wide as the rest of him. With hands like balls of dough and fingers like stuffed caterpillars that laid flat across his stomach, even while it bulged in tune with his saying. “Let’s see your wares.”

His voice brought my eyes up to the kind face of an older gentleman, with a skin of freckled sun-kissed sandstone and long white whiskers protruding from his mustache. Though the pride was still present in his smile, it was overshadowed by something I couldn’t quite place; though, I could hardly question it, as the exotic arrangement atop his head stripped me of words after the first glance. His hair, as white as the snow surrounding the Iron Mountain, had been formed to resemble a pair of mandibles or spiked horns protruding from atop his ears. Forming a cradle for a comically small ivy cap.

“I am Giorno Nojo.” I bowed in a welcoming manner after tossing such petty thoughts aside. “In my boutique, you can find everything from casual wear to formal dress, as well as an entire inventory of field attire and equipment.”

He let out a simple grunt to acknowledge my words and continued to run each of his rugged, ringed fingers through the fabric of each piece, pull the racks apart to get a closer view, then pass on to the next piece and repeat. Much the same process continued once he reached the field equipment and went on until he rounded the entire shop, small though it was. With but a few grunts that comically harmonized with his waddling steps, he plucked a few sets from the racks and approached my counter with the same warm, prideful smile as before. “Name‘s, Nogstag of the Betelle; an' the G is silent, an' don't ya forget!" He suddenly boomed in a strange accent. "I come from a guild of travelin’ merchants. Close ties to the House of Cole. Ya can call me Stag.”

“Well met, Stag.” I bowed. “Is this what you have your eye on?”

“Aye.” He nodded. “These clothes are stitched rather finely. I’ve yet to see so many pockets in such accessible places, yet, the gear remains nice an' inconspicuous. A godsend while off of the trails, might I add.”

“Oh?” I gasped in feinted surprise. “Are bandits a commonality?”

“Here? No.” Stag bellowed with laughter. “Outside the Epethian territories? Ya can bet yer ass! And ravenous beasts ta boot. Though.” He leaned over the desk with an admirable chuckle and a sleazy glare in his eye. “Someone like ya won’t haf'ta worry ‘bout that.”

“Ah.” I nodded in understanding. “I assume you saw my display?”

"That I did.” He waved his grub-like finger in affirmation. “Yer severing magic was one of the greatest things I ever seen.”

I knew he was trying to play me. But on account of him being my first customer and managing to turn my mood around, I decided to give him what he wanted. “Tell you what.” I waved my finger this time. “With you being my first customer, I’ll give you a twenty percent discount. And if you happen to see yourself needing to be conspicuous in the near future, I would advise you to see my acquaintance across the way.”

“Hmm?” He turned to Letta’s shop with a raised brow and even leaned back to read the sign. “Sinclare’s, huh? Kinda vague.” He shrugged, then turned back to me with a resolute nod. “But you sir, are generous. I’ll take ya up on your offer and take a full kit of yer field equipment."

While I bent down to retrieve the requested items, Stag waddled over to retrieve a few more items and place them on the counter.

With my pad and vial of ink set, I grasped each item to set it aside while I used my free hand to fill out the invoice, all while studying Stag confirming each item up for purchase.

“Two short-sleeve field shirts for fifty silver each. Two, long-sleeve field shirts for sixty silver each. Four sets of field trousers for forty silver each. And one field pack, consisting of a traveling bag for eighty silver; canteen; canteen cup, and field chair for twenty silver; and a one-person tent with bedroll and camp cooking set for three gold. With the discount, that brings your total to five gold, four silver, and four copper.”

Despite him handing the coin over without delay or hassle, he maintained a disgruntled disposition and even let out a disappointed sigh after I’d bagged up his clothes and stored them in his bag. “Yer a kid with promise. So, just between us merchants.” He grunted. “I'll tell ya that yer prices are ridiculously low. You could’ve made dozens of gold from that transaction without even haggling. Even more, if you use magic materials and enchantments!”

“Learning to haggle comes later,” I assured him with a warm smile. “Right now, I’m learning to network. Slow and steady wins the race, and all that.”

“Right...” He nodded slowly, then held up his new bag in his hand before turning towards Sinclare’s with a wave. “At any rate, my son will be as overjoyed as I am with this. Thank you, Giorno Nojo.”

“And thank you, Stag of Betelle!” I waved after his retreating shadow. “I hope to see you again someday.”

I doubt he heard me, but my words were nothing but the truth. He was a well-traveled merchant with a veritable bounty of experience and knowledge. It could tell that at a glance. I didn’t seek to learn from him though. Instead, I wanted to learn from Amun and gain my own experience along the way. I wanted to see the millions of cultures implied to be spread across the Plane, take away and add from them and create something entirely new from that wealth of accrued experience. Far down the line, when my long journey was complete. That was when I wanted to reunite with my first customer, Nogstag of Betelle. Only then could we share our differing experiences and truly learn from each other.

I lit up a smoke and went on to dream about that fated day. To dream, and admire the fine ladies following along with the current produced by the morning rush. I had the pleasure of speaking to some and flirted with each one to come up and purchase my wares at a price no other vendor could compete with. Something that brought me a much larger crowd than I ever could’ve anticipated.

While it was true I wanted to take things slow, the influx of customers and in turn, profit was something I welcomed with open arms; though, not for the reasons one would expect. I cared more for the experience of being a merchant rather than the life it provided, that much was true; and as Amun said before, we became rich the day we entered his service. As such, my purpose for diving into the world of commerce revolved more around accessibility, rather than profits. I cared about the underdogs, the unfortunate and discarded having clothes on their backs, warm bedding and shelter to sleep in, and the means to cook their own meals. Sell highly to the rich and give freely to the poor, that was my policy. And in the process, I’d meet more interesting people and explore more otherworldly cultures than I could have ever imagined. In turn, my brand would spread across these realms, allowing the cycle of selling high and giving freely to continue until I came upon my inevitable death.

And then, my Lord would grant me the right of undeath, and I would continue pursuing my dream unto eternity; for I could not imagine him dying.

Several hours of work passed until midday came around, signaling the end of the morning rush. I was just finishing up with a customer and was preparing to find some lunch when I spotted Amun and the others strolling through the market with their bags in tow. While they were stopped for conversation with the departing customer, I took the opportunity to hand off my amassed wares to my doppelganger.

Despite the hundreds of times I saw it, I couldn’t help but shudder at the sight of my shadow peeling off the ground to form a pair of night-black hands. How dexterous they were, the way they found the heft sack of coin and grasped onto it, dragging it into my very own umbral pocket. It was both an unforeseen advantage and a disconcerting reality. Always, beneath my feet, was a veritable clone- a twin I had limited control over. That was an advantage in and of itself. Being sentient, however, my Doppelganger would freely choose to do anything I’d naturally do and would refuse to do what I wouldn’t. He was an assistant, a companion, and an ally. He would help me stitch clothes, either alongside me or in that pocket of shadow. He'd train me. He'd protect me. At the same time, however, he was a silent observer who reported my every move from the shadows.

At least, that’s how it felt.

Despite the advantages, I was certain Amun only saw the clones as a training device. His placidity towards their existence made that much a certainty, in my eyes. He wasn’t even aware of the spell's true potential. He was selfish in that way. Something as frustrating as it was admirable, in my eyes.

“Giorno.” The Lord nodded his greetings whilst simultaneously waving Letta over. “Letta, these are for you.”

Without a word, I took the slip of paper and gave it a quick reading. It was… a shopping list. At least, that’s what I could gather before my Lord continued.

“I need you both to purchase these items before the day after tomorrow. Furthermore.” He paused to retrieve two massive piles of various fabrics, all ranging from black to white with a dash of black. “Jaimess has mastered the use of his carbon magic in the sense of creating carbon nanotube fabrics from natural carbon. Giving you an infinite supply of material, so long as we have a source of charcoal. These are either coated in or made from the stuff. I need at least one uniform for each of us by the same deadline.”

I took the time to inspect the material while he was speaking. Thankfully, Jaimess had done all the hard work of spinning thread and weaving fabric, leaving me with a hefty pile of deep black textiles akin to the color of the Lord’s magic. Though the fabric had been weaved into absurdly thin sheets, it remained light and airy enough to almost feel non-existent in my hands, yet, it had a high… tensile strength, I think the term was, as there was no sign of the weaves coming undone no matter how hard I tugged at it. I couldn’t wait to test the Lord’s claims behind the material's properties and see if they were true. But deep in my heart, I knew they were. Everything he's said thus far had been true. Thus I couldn’t contain my excitement as I turned back and said. “I’ll get started right away.”

A subtle smirk crept across the Lord’s face as he turned to Letta with a smaller mass of material. “Similarly, we all need proper wristwear and jewelry for our journey."

“Consider it done, Your Grace.” She beamed. Causing a soft boiling in my belly.

Luckily, my Lord seemed to not notice and instead guided the others deeper into the market. I paid no mind to Letta’s intentions as she retreated to her shop. Instead, I eagerly handed off my material to my clone and tore down my shop. Within a couple of hours, I had my rental agreement closed out and was locked in my room, neck-deep in a pile of freshly dyed material.

With my working material set aside, I took some time to smoke a smoke and kill my excitement by reading through the list my Lord had given me. As I realized earlier, it was a shopping list requiring me to purchase as many seeds as possible. While fruit and vegetable seeds were naturally on the list, acorns, fungal spores, medicinal herbs, and industrial crops were the priorities. Right under spores and seeds for plants that would give me a main source of materials after being sown. Additionally, I was to buy an assortment of common tools and equipment. Hammers, writing utensils, cooking sets, and a high-end tailor's set, among other things.

On the flip side was a strict warning stating this material was for vassal and guild use only. Below that was a reiteration of the material’s properties, described to be incredibly durable- possibly the most durable, non-magical textile in existence. Moreso, its durability was matched only by its flexibility and thermal properties. It would cool when the wearer was hot and preserve heat when the user was cold. On top of that, it was said to enable clothes to be integrated with 'electronics.' Devices that were similar in nature to enchantments, yet somehow powered by electricity. How that electricity was applied, stored, or much less used by this fabric was my biggest guess, but those questions were removed from the fire to be reserved for a later time.

Regrettably, though, my smoke was still unfinished. Still, I had ascended to the proper state of mind and so began the long process of visualizing the garb I’d create for my companions.

It started with taking a mental note of the dyed fabrics surrounding me. Black started as the base, and so it would remain. From there, I bleached one large pile white and another gray to make the sub-bases. Then divided the remaining portions amongst our party and dyed them according to their affinities.

I decided Toril would have a gray base, with white and lightning-blue accents. Jaimess, on the other hand, would have a charcoal and paper-tan palate while Jonet would have a black, brown, and ice-blue tone to distinguish her from Toril. Similarly, Ed was given a white-on-ashen-gray scheme to differentiate him from Letta’s black and steel-gray theme. Leaving me with a black, gray, and green hue to adopt. But of course, there was the Lord’s wear to think of as well, kept black-on-black as he favored, I had fully intended to make his first and with the finest materials available to me. Still, though, I couldn’t help but feel that it’d be a long time until my Lord wore a full set of my creation. Sure, he wore my clothes for a time, but he hasn't been seen without his royal garb since he was first seen wearing it. Not that I blamed him. It not only fit him perfectly but was enchanted to do everything my gear couldn’t. I could and did make minimalist boots like the ones he wears, and so too could I make the pants and field jackets in his designs. But enchantments and magical materials both served as the bane of my progression and my immediate goal. I could make anything my Lord asked of me, except powerful, enchanted equipment, frustratingly so.

I decided long ago that I couldn’t truly call myself Grand Duke Amun’s tailor until I had access to such skills or materials. But I would do everything in my power to try. That consisted of acknowledging and mastering the recreation of everyone’s favored styles. A task that I completed months ago. The Lord’s style was made evident by his garb. The others, however, took months of trial and effort to learn.

Toril preferred to be free, with his arms and legs exposed and his torse wrapped in plates or furs. Jaimess preferred a mix of casual and formal wear. Dress shirts, slacks, and a rye hat like the one Sir Stag wore; yet altered for ease of movement. Jonet preferred, well… tights. Not in the sense of a leotard. But in the sense of tight leggings that stopped just below the knees to tuck into knee-high boots, coupled with a simple button-up shirt and a hood as an accessory. Ed liked to dress like Jaimess, only with more pockets and slots for tools instead of notepads and pens. And, complimenting her nature, Letta preferred skirts and sun-dresses with deep pockets and frills or hairpins to put in and around her bun; or, if not that, baggy pants paired with a nice shirt. As, in her words, tight pants made her uncomfortable.

With all that in mind, the last thing to do was to take their palates, favored weapons, styles, and the hardiness of this strange material, merge it with the climate in our destination, and finally combine that into seven outfits that were fashionable enough to tell others who we were with but a glance, but not flamboyantly vibrant enough to draw in every pair of eyes we come across. They needed to be as adaptable as we were. Able to be changed at a moment's notice to fit any environment the Plane could throw at us. Most importantly, our clothes were required to facilitate our occupations.

After a long, long period of brooding, I felt as if I finally solved the puddle and excitedly got to work testing out this legendary material, starting with the application of a torch to the fabric. As much as I roasted it, however, it didn’t burn. So I took a pair of scissors to its edge as well as a knife, yet I struggled to cut. I had no way to produce electricity on my own, so I moved along and stitched together a simple shirt, then pulled it over a cloth mannequin for a durability test.

After plunging at it with a knife, I dumbfoundedly watched as the blade pressed into the padded flesh without penetrating. Forcing a bewildered cackle out of me that seemed to echo through my room. Although it didn’t penetrate, however, I was sure that the attempt would still hurt if it were a living human on the receiving end. Still, the shirt I made was absurdly thin and remarkably light, for it to stop a thrust at full strength truly made it the groundbreaking material it was described to be. Regardless, this particular garment was far too light and flimsy to be of any use to my companions, so I tossed it into the recycling bin and proceeded with the real work.

It was tedious, but I eventually found the sweet spot of thickness and took the time to go reweave both bundles into newly formed sheets. Once done, I had them arranged alongside an assortment of leather mats, metal or stone accessories, and more bits by around five in the afternoon. And after a break for dinner and a long smoke break, I started the true work.

While it was hard to cut with steel, the same couldn’t be said for my magic. With it, I could cut anything. Even magic. And with the machine the Lord had Ed make for me, I was able to cut down and sew the strips and pieces into the desired forms in less than no time, allowing me to finish the seven foundations by around midnight.

An average of one hour per client wasn’t bad, but I was only halfway done. I still had to etch and embroider each set of gear and fabricate their accessories. On top of that, there was the Lord’s shopping list to attend to, as well as the closing ceremony looming on the horizon. With the latter being held around noon, I decided now would be as good a time as any to knock shopping off my to-do list. So I put my twin to work and snuck through the snoring guest house as best I could, only to see the Lord sitting on a rock outside, dragging on a smoke while he gazed upon the night sky with dreamy eyes.

“Don’t let me disturb you.” He chortled without even budging my way.

Saying nothing, I smiled and gave a respectful bow before turning away with a fresh smoke clenched between my lips.

Though I tried not to take my time, a large part of me quickly became lost in wonder while another part of me methodically navigated the market to make my purchases. The strange part was, I was aware of it. The entire time, I was in full control of what shop I went to or who I conversed with, and all of them brought me inspiration. The seeds I purchased brought images of their full-grown forms to mind, forcing me to take notes and make impromptu sketches on the spot. The elaborate statues sitting in the background of a shop that sold plates and strips of metal made me think of the exotic armor and tools I’d read about as a boy, impulsing me to order them to be bent into all sorts of elaborate shapes and bends. The tools, machines, enchantments, and kits I bought made me think of the technology described by my Lord. Like electronics, it was described as a tool that did not need magic or mana to operate. Yet, it allowed humans to do what was next to impossible all the same. It allowed for near-instantaneous communication. It enabled one to travel across a realm in less than a day. To do the work of hundreds in mere hours. All without magic.

By the time my task was complete, my head was filled to the brim with inspiration. Burning, passionate inspiration. At that moment, I saw the precursor to my magnum opus. So I slapped myself to my senses and sprinted back to my room to start over and bring my masterpiece into reality.