— Reviewed by Lord Alistair Beaumont, published in The Peccatum Gazette, journalist Margaret Lonsdale, Page 3, March 14th.
Above Emily was a giant, humanoid spider suspended from a vast web of yarn sewn around the glass-domed ceiling. His body was crafted from tightly woven fabric and stuffing, his torso stitched together from different patches of cloth. Where a face should have been, two enormous black button eyes stared down at her, light beaming from the four tiny holes where thread held them to his head. His lower body was a massive, bulbous sack of fabric. And instead of spindly legs, eight oversized sewing needles jutted from his underside.
The creature crawled along the network of yarn, then jumped and landed with a monstrous thud, shaking the floor beneath them.
Emily was frozen in place, but no one else in the store reacted. The girl in the purple cloak didn’t so much as flinch. The other customers continued browsing as if nothing had happened, and Mina only crossed her arms.
“By all the gods hold holy, it is Mina!” it declared, voice warbling with something like delight. “Many moons have leaped across the sky since last we gazed upon one another!” Then, the creature’s head jerked toward Emily, and she gulped. “Now, who is this sweet little tart? Have you made a friend? Are you bringing me a client?”
“Emily,” Mina answered. “My apprentice.”
The creature twitched, his button eyes shifting in a way that suggested something like amusement. “An apprentice? You?”
Mina narrowed her eyes. “That so hard to believe?”
The Tailor merely laughed. “That a heart made of ice could melt after a blizzard? Not after winter’s sun overcame your autumn sky. But perhaps it is time. So indulge me, in which crevice did you uncover this specimen?”
Emily raised an eyebrow at him.
“Peccatum.”
“Ah, a great distance you have traveled, young sprig. From the gut-churning grime and sooty despair of that tatterdemalion maze of lustful criminals and underbelly-affluent bastards, you have emerged!”
Emily stared. “... what?”
“May I be the first to welcome you to our grandiloquent land of tranquil forests and soaring beauty!”
It placed a woolen hand over his human chest and bowed his torso with perfect elegance, despite the awkward shape of his body. “You may call me, as all the lovely folk of this valley do, ‘The Tailor.’ For that is my name, but not all I am talented with. I can produce anything you desire, my dear, from a queen’s dress to a padded cloak. Your wish is my command.”
Emily wasn’t sure how to respond. “That’s… uh…” She hesitated. “Okay?”
The Tailor glanced back at her. “Is something amiss?”
“It’s just… that’s not a normal name.”
“Ah, but a name it remains!” The Tailor gave a dramatic flourish of his long arm. “Do you not, in your infinite childhood creativity, bestow absurdities upon your cherished stuffed creatures? ‘Bun-Bun.’ ‘Sir Fluffington.’ ‘Captain Whiskers.’ And yet my name, chosen by the people of this enchanting valley for its function, is the one that strikes you as peculiar?”
Emily opened her mouth, then promptly closed it.
Mina smirked. “She’s not used to you.”
“Oh, but she will be!” The Tailor raised his hand. “But I must say…”
Emily barely had a moment to react before something coiled around her wrists and ankles.
Thin threads of yarn snapped from the ceiling and yanked her upward. She let out a startled yelp as her feet left the floor, her body hoisted into the air like a marionette. Her limbs were spread awkwardly as she dangled there, helpless.
“Hey!” she yelped, squirming like a fly caught in a web. She twisted and pulled, but the threads didn’t budge. “What the f—”
The Tailor reached out, baling the fabric of her shirt against her frame. “Oh, dear, dear, dear. She is so very small. Petite. Thin bones, barely any meat. And these clothes are dreadful. These will not protect her against monsters, not one bit.”
Emily struggled harder. “You don’t gotta point it out, asshole!”
The Tailor ignored her. “She is barely monster hunter material. No thicker than the very needles I stand on. If she is to stand against things with sharpened talons and venomous fangs, then she must eat like a king! Bulk up her arms and legs! Put some natural armor between her fragile ribs and that throbbing, breakable little heart! And this rat’s nest atop her head…” His voice dropped to a disappointed murmur. “Dreadful.”
Emily barely processed the insult. She was too busy wriggling in the air. “Mina—?!”
Mina pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. “Tailor.”
“Just one moment!” The Tailor lifted a long, thread-wrapped finger and turned his glowing button eyes toward the girl in the purple cloak. “Violet, my most esteemed flower, come here for a moment. I require your judgment.”
Emily twisted to get a better look at the girl, and what she saw sent a chill down her spine.
Violet was wearing a smooth purple mask, carved into the shape of a human skull, that concealed almost her entire face. The hollows of the eye sockets darkened with black smudges. Only her purple eyes shone through, shimmering like amethysts in the daylight. Her long purple hair draped over her shoulders, blending seamlessly into her equally purple dress. Emily could barely make out the slender tips of pointed ears poking out.
The mannequin she had been working on before now stood motionless.
Violet looked up at Emily, but said nothing. She only stared.
“Uh… hi?” Emily chuckled nervously.
Violet waved.
The Tailor gestured toward her. “Tell me, darling Violet, what do you make of her?”
Violet’s unsettlingly bright eyes drifted over Emily, her head tilting slightly. Then, without a word, she lifted her hands and began to sign. Her fingers moved fluidly, her hands shifting through strange, elegant gestures. She was saying something, but Emily had no way of understanding it. She looked toward Mina in confusion, but the woman only watched, arms crossed.
The Tailor nodded along eagerly. “Ah, yes, yes,” he murmured. “I must agree—”
The yarn suddenly gave way.
Emily yelped as gravity took over, but Mina caught her before she hit the hardwood floor. She staggered back to her feet, breathing hard. She looked back at Violet in shock. Standing beside her, it was apparent how much taller she was. The girl was as short as a dwarf, yet had the ears of an elf, and didn’t appear to be any younger than herself.
“This is Karaline’s daughter,” Mina answered, almost as if she could read her mind. “And Violet, this is Emily.”
Violet’s expression didn’t change. It remained neutral. Unexpressive. Eerily blank.
“I see the resemblance,” Emily muttered.
Slowly, Violet turned her head toward Mina and started signing again.
Emily glanced between them, entirely lost.
“Yes,” Mina answered. “She’ll be staying with me.”
Violet’s gaze returned to Emily and continued signing.
“Not today,” Mina said. “Emily needs time to recover.”
Violet stared for a moment, then simply nodded.
“Violet doesn’t speak,” Mina explained. “Not the way you or I do.”
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“I picked up on that, yeah.” Emily said. “Well, it’s nice to meet you.”
Violet nodded again. Then, with one hand, she reached down to the belt cinched around her waist and lifted a small wooden marionette that had been dangled from its strings. Violet pointed to herself, then tapped the puppet’s tiny wooden head.
Emily tilted her head, entirely unsure what to make of that.
Mina exhaled through her nose. “I’m sure she does, Violet. Right now, we’re just getting Emily some fresh clothes so she can go back home and rest.”
The Tailor nodded and flourished his arm back toward the mannequin. “Indeed, indeed! Many thanks, dear Violet, you may return to your delicate craft!”
Violet nodded again before stiffly turning away, and drifted back toward the mannequin she had been dressing. Her purple cloak glided across the floor in a way that made it appear as if she were floating. The moment her hands lifted, the mannequin stirred back to life.
The Tailor turned back to Mina. “So then, I must ask, is today truly an expedition for casual fineries, or shall we be preparing equipment and clothes fit for battle?”
“We aren’t here for gear today, just clothes. When she’s ready to be measured, I’ll send her over.”
“Even so, it shall be quite the challenge to craft armor for one as… diminutive as she.”
Emily frowned slightly. “I’m not that short!”
The Tailor tilted his head. “While you do stand taller than a fully-grown dwarf, you remain a good deal smaller than the usual clientele who grace my shop. And, I dare say, far less wealthy as well.”
Emily shifted uncomfortably. She was used to having very little, but hearing it so bluntly stated still made her feel uneasy.
“Then again, it wouldn’t be the smallest set I’ve made,” he said to Mina, who only glared in response. “To craft equipment suited for one so small is where my true challenge lies. The measurements must be precise. Arms and legs, waist and bust, the delicate slopes from neck to shoulder. Her elbows, knees, wrists, ankles, feet, hands, every joint, every inch accounted for. And then, of course, there is the matter of her growth.”
Emily blinked. “You’re… planning that far ahead?”
“But of course! Would you fashion a grand coat for a child and expect it to fit her still when she has bloomed into a woman? No, no, no! Anticipation is the very soul of design. You are slim and frail. If I were to craft you form-fitting equipment now, it would be too tight by the time you are ready. You are but a skeleton, anything now will drape off your shoulders like mothers curtains.” The Tailor turned slightly, his massive form looming over them both. “And I assume you desire something in her gear that mirrors your own, Mina? Lightweight, fitted, precise. Armor that moves as freely as if you were naked.”
Mina exhaled sharply through her nose. “How much would it cost?”
“Ah, you wound me with such a simple question when the answer is an entire tapestry of possibilities! It depends, dear Mina, entirely upon what the fledgling desires. Does she favor the steadfast strength of tanned leather, rough against the touch yet warm against the wind? Or does she seek the softness of silk, smooth as a phantom’s caress? Will she bear straps upon her frame, belts fastened with silver buckles, pockets, and pouches at her hips? Shall I weave for her a cloak that shrouds her form in the emerald hues of the forest, concealing her among the rustling leaves and tangled brambles?”
Emily’s head spun. Listening to the way he spoke was like listening to some noblewoman’s court bard get way too into his storytelling.
The Tailor continued, “What of accessories? Shall she don a hat? A cap, perhaps? Or goggles… yes, goggles! Fine-crafted lenses, leather-bound and sturdy, something akin to the craftsmanship that graces your own fine attire, Mina. After all, who is to say that one cannot look as dashing as a golden-haired prince whilst hacking through hordes of monsters?”
Mina pinched the bridge of her nose. “We’ll worry about that another day. For now, we’re just browsing for clothes.”
The Tailor paused dramatically, then bowed with a flourish. “Very well, very well! I shall grant you the grace to peruse my collection at your leisure. And should you require my attention, dear fledgling, I am never far.” With that, he scurried away, it’s needle legs tip-tapping against the hardwood floor.
Emily finally let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She turned to Mina, lowering her voice. “You weren’t kidding. He’s… strange.”
“Mhm.”
“What is he? Some kind of living doll?”
Mina shook her head. “A Remnant. It’s a kind of specter that takes possession of a vessel and wears it like a second skin.”
Emily stiffened. “He’s… a ghost?”
“Brought him back after he died.”
Emily furrowed her brows as she glanced back toward the shop’s ceiling, where strands of woven yarn crisscrossed like a massive loom. “So… is he like… a monster now?”
“Yes.”
The answer was so blunt, so matter-of-fact, that it sent another cold shiver down Emily’s spine. “And the people here are just… fine with that?”
“If there’s one thing you should always keep in mind as a monster hunter, it’s that fangs and claws don’t make a monster. Its their actions.”
“I… suppose so,” she murmured.
“It took some time for the Valley to adjust to the change. After awhile they didn’t have a problem with it.”
Emily furrowed her brows. She found it strange how this town was so comfortable with this giant possessed spider, and yet they still seemed sceptical and hesitant about Mina. It was clear she had lived here for years, so wouldn’t they have known her for longer? It probably didn’t help that she looked more like a monster than The Tailor, covered in scars and dressed in black, rather than quilts and fabrics. Maybe there was more to Mina than she first thought.
“You’ll be safe around him. Violet is. Then again, she’s always been drawn to the paranormal.”
Emily glanced back at her and the mask that concealed part of her face. “You don’t say.”
Mina simply nodded. “Alright, get to picking.”
“What?” Emily tilted her head.
“You need clothes, don’t you?” Mina gestured toward the aisles of clothes before them. “Go pick some out. Anything you think you’ll need.”
Emily hesitated, glancing between Mina and the neatly arranged racks of clothing. “Oh… like… anything?” Her voice dropped slightly. “Are you sure? Some of the stuff here looks expensive…”
Mina just gave a simple nod toward the shop.
Emily stared at her, her pulse picking up ever so slightly. There was something strange about this. It felt so unfamiliar that she wasn’t sure how to process it. The notion of money not being a concern was almost surreal. She met Mina’s gaze again, searching for any sign of hesitation, any hint that this was some kind of test. But Mina only watched her.
Emily smiled and turned to the clothing racks, running her fingers along the soft fabrics, taking it all in. She made several trips to the changing rooms, experimenting with different outfits. Some fit well, others less so, and some were just so strange to her that she wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about them. Mina stood nearby, leaning against a counter, arms crossed as she watched Emily sift through the selections. Every now and then, Emily would come to her for input. Mina wasn’t particularly fussy, so long as the outfit was practical and modest, she didn’t have much of an opinion.
Emily ended up with a decent mix. A combination of trousers, tunics, and long-sleeved shirts, as well as a few warm coats for when it was cold out. She even picked out a nightgown, something soft and comfortable, though she felt oddly self-conscious about it.
Each time, she expected Mina to tell her to put something back. But each time, Mina simply nodded and let her carry on.
Eventually, with her arms full of neatly folded clothes, Emily made her way toward the front counter where Mina stood waiting. She fully expected to be told to put some of them back, but Mina merely gestured for her to set them down.
“…All of them? You’re sure?”
Mina raised a brow. “Did you pick anything you didn’t need?”
Emily looked at the pile, then back at Mina.
“Just put them down.”
Emily's heart fluttered. She nodded quickly, dropping the clothes onto the counter before Mina could change her mind.
Before they left, Emily changed into a simple, olive green dress. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was new, and warm, and soft. She twirled once in front of the mirror, the fabric fanning out around her legs. Her reflection stared back at her, but for the first time in a long while, she barely recognized herself. She wasn’t just some street rat in stolen rags anymore. She was someone else. Someone with a home. Someone with a teacher. Someone with a whole new life ahead of them, for better or for worst.
As they made their way toward the exit, a final item caught Emily’s eye. A bent witch’s hat, perched atop a mannequin’s head. Something about it drew her in. The way the brim drooped ever so slightly. But she didn’t need it. Not like everything else she had picked out. Mina was already doing more for her than she ever could have imagined. As much as she wanted it, she couldn’t bring herself to ask for more. So, Emily turned away from it, pretending she hadn’t seen it, and hurried to catch up with Mina.
Not even a day ago, to her memory at least, she had been surviving in the back alleys of Peccatum. Now, she had clothes and a roof over her head. For the first time in months, she wasn’t worried about where she’d sleep that night.
She didn’t know how things could get any better.
The change of clothes did more for Emily’s spirits than she could have imagined. She felt different, like she had shed the weight of her old life and begun anew. Though her new life wasn’t starting off exactly how she expected.
After spending months talking to all different kinds of monster hunters, she would have never expected the one to help her would be the very type of monster she was seeking to destroy. She wouldn’t have expected any of this type of generosity from any monster hunter, much less a vampire. It left Emily a little on edge. She had read the stories; she knew vampires could be manipulative. She couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to Mina than she was letting on. Despite that, Emily didn’t want to take any risks. She was offering to help her, and that part she believed. So for now, she was going to play along but keep a close eye on Mina. Well, as close an eye as she could.
On the way back to her house, they passed by Star Lake. Several houses dotted its banks, with wooden docks stretching over the water, and, according to Mina, when seen from above, the lake vaguely resembled the shape of a star.
Obviously.
Emily almost wanted to see it for herself, but that meant climbing the mountain slopes, and she knew she didn’t have the energy for that. The slopes were one thing she was eager to explore, though. Scattered along the cliffs and ridges were the remnants of an Elven village, as Mina explained. Their limestone-white ruins stood in stark contrast against the deep greens of the mountainside. Some were half-buried in foliage, cracked and crumbling, while others remained eerily intact, though abandoned.
Staring at them from afar, Emily wanted to ask Mina just how they ended up like that, but before she could even ask, a voice sounded nearby.
“Emily?”
Gathered near one of the roadside stone walls was a group of five around her age. One was a girl dressed in overalls, looking more like a farmhand than anything else. If not for the shape of her chest, Emily might not have been able to tell she was a girl at all. The boys were hardly distinctive. They had that look most country boys did, with plain clothes and trousers torn at the knees. But then there was the elf standing atop the wall with her hands on her hips. She had blond hair, mostly tucked beneath a flat cap, and wore a silk-white elven gown with a jacket over it, keeping the sleeves rolled up past her elbows. The girl’s bright blue eyes were wide beneath the brim of her cap, her mouth gaping in disbelief.
Emily blinked, and in a second, her body tensed as a wave of cold realization crashed over her. “Lux?”
Mina looked between the two girls, narrowing her eyes. “Oh great…” she muttered under her breath.
For a split second, there was only silence.
“Holy shit…” the elf said.
It was her!
The Tailor is another character who I love to write, but utterly dread writing dialogue for. It was fun coming up with the concept of the character, but after writing a few lines of dialogue I knew I was going to hate every second of it in the future… and I did. Either way, here he is, in all his spider glory.
Author's Note: This chapter received revisions on 9/20/25
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