It was an uncomfortable revelation, to wake up one day and realize that your clothes stunk.
For three years Hirem hadn't minded the stench - he had always been possessed with far greater concerns - but, for some reason, this morning he could not bring himself to put on his tunic, breeches, coat... all of it was disgusting. He stared over the side of his bed at the pile of clothing and felt revulsion, staring in horror at the completely sweat-through tunic and wondering why he had never thought to purchase clothes before leaving Yahebah for the last time. Not only did his clothes smell, but they also were appalling to the eye; torn, ripped in many places, splattered with dirt and grime, creased a hundred times over. He was pretty sure now, looking at his breeches, that he had once sat down in manure and never realized that it was there.
And, truthfully, he had never cared before whether or not his clothes had stunk, for he had lived alone in the desert and only made contact with people once every fortnight. Those were the days of dust and darkness, days where his only goal was to make it to the next sand dune alive. The clothes that he wore were not garments meant to present himself to the world, but weary travellers joining him on his miserable journey. Those were simpler days. But now he lived in Riverfall, a vibrant city overflowing with life, constantly bringing in new guests from the grasslands or the Suvan Sea. This was a city that prided itself on activity, where who you are was less important than what you did. And, to some Rivarians, the fact that Hirem dressed himself this way instantly made him deserving of contempt - they averted their gaze from him, wrinkled their nose, did everything they could do remove themselves from his presence.
Or perhaps they were just trying to distance themselves from the smell? Oh good Yahal, you must be filled with patience, to tolerate guiding one that stinks as much as I!
After he laid eyes upon his clothes and felt only disgust, Hirem knew that the time had come to purchase another outfit. The idea of purchasing apparel was strange for him to consider, but it's not like he was unaware of the service - Yahebah's Sweet Reams had been the business he originally obtained this outfit from - he was more just unused to the idea of buying anything. For so long, all I have done with my mizas is guard them zealously against thieves and pay for bread, meat, water... I haven't bought anything for the sake of buying something since I left Yahebah for Hai. Briefly, Hirem looked at his dwindling supply of coins and wondered whether or not he could really afford another set of clothing - but the stench was so awful, it overpowered other concerns. I will make the money back by working twice as hard this season!
Now came time for another important question: where, exactly, would he buy the clothes? He had been living in Riverfall for over 40 days, but never once had stopped to peruse the many shops available in the city. Reaching for his oft-used scroll of welcome, Hirem set the parchment on his lap and scanned the city's map intently, trying to find someplace affordable. Loads of Leather...? They might have something I'd like, I suppose. The Zhongjie would likely have some cheap wares for sale - what is this Red Diamond Fashions? Furrowing his brow, Hirem peered intently at the shop's location on his map. They make it sound like the shop is only for the wealthy... but it's the only place in the city listed as selling clothes exclusively. They must have something for me.
A bell later, Hirem found himself standing outside the shop and feeling a curious sense of dread wash over him. It wasn't like the shop exterior was anything to be frightened by - small, ivy-covered, with lavish looking gowns and tunics hanging in the windows. Instead his eyes were transfixed by the red diamond sign that hung over the entrance. Though this was the middle of a hot day, with the bright sun pillared high above the blue sky, the Benshiran felt a shiver echo through his body and leave, chattering, through his teeth. His skin was crawling, and he felt a queer sensation of malice emanating from this building. I will not like what I find in there, he decided, already suspicious of some strange magician working inside the shop. But Yahal has led me to their doorstep, so the least I could do is knock upon the door.
Mustering his courage, Hirem entered the shop.
He was immediately struck by the surprising size of the business, the cozy walls outside deceiving him into thinking that the Red Diamond would be tightly confined. His eyes wandered through the racks upon racks of clothing and gawped at what he saw there: stark colour, dizzying partners, bizarre choices of style. It was more clothing gathered in one place than he had ever seen in his life, and of an impressive standard - the only time Hirem had come into contact with more lavishness was the Festival of Dira, in Ahnatep. His feet were already unconsciously moving towards the nearest shelf of clothing, his grimy fingers reaching out and touching a freshly made leather cuirass. "Hello?" he called out, still utterly distracted by the fashion.
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