Alexis and the Puffballs chapter 5

Tentatively, Alexis walked inside the room. If it could indeed be called a room, it was so small. She bit her lip, and gave a little wave. The crying woman gave an audible sob. Out loud! It was refreshing to actually hear something.

The women, also wearing very little, seemed to snap out of their ecstatic stupor, and stood up. A warm contralto thought, if you could classify thought-voices, entered her mind.

Come with us, Highness Xanxa.

A plump woman gestured at the door on the opposite side of the "room." She matched this voice to that person and stored it away. It is time for your fitting, came that same voice again.

Alexis, or Xanxa as she seems to be called now, followed the three vampiresses, with blue skin of course, through the door. She entered into what looked like a storage closet for many different types of fabric, all light and fluttery-looking. They did have their differences, though, like the one in the corner looked furry, and shimmered with an auburn glow. The one on the top shelf looked like lemon-yellow fish scales. She was momentarily overwhelmed by the feeling of sadness that blasted it's way through her at a glance of black material exactly the shade of the Kleghans hair, only it had some reflection. It looked heavy, and dull in luster. It was the only cloth that did not rustle and fly upon the door opening.

Choose your color, Highness.

Choose wisely, this will be your only gown for a while.

Gown, what an old-fashioned word. But, then again, this seemed an old-fashioned world, this Khleghan.

Oh, well. She wandered around the room awhile, seeing and feeling different fabrics, hesitantly at first but slowly growing more bold. She finally decided on a pale pink-orange hue, a thicker textile than the majority of the other fabrics. She turned to the seamstresses, holding a corner of the cloth in between her index finger and thumb.

This one? She inquired.

The seamstresses faces lit up. The bustled over and freed the roll of cloth from the shelf and gestured that she follow once more. This time the door led to a plain room with a small dresser with tiny drawers and a stool. The contralto-thought woman led her delicately to the stool, and asked her politely to stand on it.

We will give you a gown to remember!

You chose your fabric well. This is one not often used, as it is not one that frequently matches the shades of the vampires' skin. Yes, it compliments you very well.

This last comment was a high bell-like thought, and she matched it with the seamstress holding the roll of cloth and stroking it almost lovingly. She was tall and thin, with a most pretty face, regardless of it's indigo color. The third woman, who was leaning over the chest of little drawers, had said nothing this whole while except at the very beginning when they had all spoken to Yreahan. Alexis-Xanxa could not seem to get a good look at her, she had her hair covering her face most of the time and her dress hung off her shape in a most awkward and unflattering way. She was, however, obviously very young, perhaps an apprentice.

Alexis-Xanxa obediently put her arms out and down, up, and front as the ladies measured her every which way until she began to feel quite silly. She thought to them as she stood with one knee up and her left arm hooked through the underside, is this really necessary?

The women did not reply, only continued measuring. When they were done, Alexis-Xanxa relaxed with a quiet sigh. The women gave her a ‘look' and one of them, the tall one, left the room with the fabric, some needles and thread from the chest, and a pile of notes with her measurements. She silence while they waited for her to come back, presumably with the dress, was tense. The two remaining women spent most of their time either staring at her with joy, or standing on their heels looking all over the place.

Finally the tall one came back. She brought scraps of fabric that looked like they had been roughly sliced off the roll and wadded up in her fists. She tossed the fabric to the plump one and began roughly undressing her. It was really embarrassing. Before she could get a word of protest in, however, her old clothes were on the floor and the new ones on. Hang on, clothes? She may not be the most pleasant of people, but she definitely had her standards and this outfit did not fit them. If they thought she was going to wear this anywhere....

Do you not like it, highness?

So they had noticed the way she was looking at herself.

It's...um....exposing. I feel naked.

Before she could react again, the clothes were off and the tall seamstress had left the room again. She stood, now completely exposed to the world, to endure the looks of the other two, now made more weird by the fact that she was stark naked. The looks were also confused.

When the woman came back the dress was now massive enough to drape over her arm. This looked promising. The dress went over her head, which was good, and the dress itself once on was simply gorgeous, and completely modest. That beautiful pink orange color brought out the flush in her cheeks, and the green in her eyes contrasted greatly but pleasantly with the color. The design was not unique or out-of-this-world, it was very simple, but it stood out to her like none other. It had elbow -length sleeves with ruffles on the ends, and the v-neckline flattered her neck to the point of making it look almost too long. The lowness of the cut might be a problem, but it didn't look bad. It didn't show anything, anyway. The dress itself was figure-hugging, and remained so to the smallest point of her waist where a large orange ribbon was wrapped around and tied in the most ridiculous bow she had ever seen. The skirt fluttered down to a point just below her knees, with the ruffles again. It made her look seventeen, and much taller than she was. The young seamstress approached her with a pair of pink shoes, which were extremely comfortable, and completed the outfit magnificently.

She was completely lost in this image when one of the seamstresses abruptly snipped her braid off, and it coiled to the floor. For a moment she simply stood there, wondering if it had really just happened. She had never been particularly fond of her hair, but she had never learned to miss it. It never grew longer, never needed to be trimmed, and was something she had never been without. Shakily she reached behind her head and felt the roughly cut fringe of hair on the nape of her neck, and began to feel odd without the familiar weight on her scalp. She heard the plump woman come up behind her again, snapping another pair of scissors. Alexis-Xanxa put her hand back to her side and clenched the flawless dress in her white-knuckled fists. She felt the blades behind her snip yet more hair away. When she was done, Alexis-Xanxa shook her head and gasped at the difference. Someone brought in a mirror and Alexis-Xanxa did not recognize the girl inside. When she finally realized it was her, she had been led halfway out the door.

This is your bedchamber, came the contralto after several more hallways and doors had been passed through. Alexis-Xanxa barely registered it. She was too bewildered all of a sudden, and completely overwhelmed at the recent events that had occured. It had never quite clicked for some reason that it was really weird and scary to be picked up by puffballs and carried away to a world occupied by vampires...and she was one of them! She sank to her knees and cried. She cried and cried and cried, until she suddenly slapped herself. Snap out of it! There's no way out of this, it's completely real, so get a hold of yourself!

Now was the question of how she was going to learn to rule a country in two months. It seemed impossible. Her "mother" wasn't dead, so why couldn't she rule a little longer? Just enough time for Princess Xanxa to figure it out?

There was a quiet knock on the door. It opened before Xanxa could think anything, and there stood a complete stranger. She was dressed very well, and her skin was a lighter color, but not as pale as Yreahans. Her dress was a much darker color of purple, and it had streaks of silver in it that flashed in and out of sight in a most bizarre and hypnotic way. However fine a fabric, no straps and extreme midriff exposure

Xanxa! Came a call, obviously from this stranger. I thought I would never see you again!

Who are you? Xanxa couldn't help asking.

Your cousin and friend, I hope...

Name? This sounded awfully formal. She felt silly upon saying it.

Kharmi.

This name made Xanxa blink. She wasn't sure why, she was positive she had never heard it before. And yet...

And you are my cousin? Xanxa inquired once more.

Yes. And we always were friends, I hope we shall continue being so...

Xanxa actually hesitated. She yearned for a friend other than Yreahan in Kleghan, but she had her doubts about this one. She then inwardly kicked herself, and repremanded herself for thinking this way. She hardly knew the girl, and her dress's scantiness wasn't a reason for not being a friend.

Why on Earth...Kleghan...not?

A relieved smile broke out on Kharmi's face. Oh, Xanxa, if you only knew how happy I am to hear this!

She hoped she might, eventually. She needed some intense happiness at the moment.