Lavia Clothing Store

Luna and Aria had taken shelter from the rain in a quiet restaurant—the kind tucked away on a corner street, where the windows fog slightly and the world outside feels like a distant memory. They sat by the window, a warm light above casting soft reflections on the polished wood of their table.

Their order had been simple, yet enchanting: tea brewed from mana-lily leaves, mint, and rose petals. The scent alone was a spell—floral, cool, and gently sweet. Aria took a slow sip, her expression melting into delight.

“This is…” she whispered, eyes fluttering closed, “...beyond words.”

Luna, her legs swinging under the chair, stared out the window in quiet fascination. Rain beat against the glass with a steady ratta-tat-tat, each drop like a pebble flung by the wind. Rivulets twisted down the pane, blurring the world outside into smears of light and motion.

Then—BLAM! A gust struck the window with force, rattling the frame. Luna jumped.

“It’s loud today,” she murmured.

Outside, mana-powered lamps cast a dim, pale blue glow over red-brick façades. But the rain was falling thick, turning everything beyond a few meters into a watercolor haze.

“Does it always rain this much here?” Luna asked, her voice soft.

Aria set down her cup and gave a small nod, signaling the attendant for a refill. Her shoulders relaxed.

“The rain in the empire is... peculiar,” she said. “Here on the peninsula—so close to the sea and all the rivers—it falls hard. Heavy. Relentless.”

She looked out the window, thoughtful.

“We get more rain here in one month than the capital sees in a year.”

The attendant returned and refilled her cup. Aria sipped again, her gaze distant now. There was something almost reverent in the way she watched the storm.

Luna turned back to the window, brows drawing together.

“It’s slowing down,” she said after a pause. “Look, sister—it’s letting up.”

Aria leaned closer, peering through the misty glass.

“Oh. You’re right. That was fast.”

She tapped a finger against the window.

“It usually drags on for hours. Today’s... different.”

She downed the rest of her tea and stood, brushing off her coat.

“Come on. We need to get ready. We’ll head to the salon soon.”

With a warm smile, she added, “I’ll be back in a minute. You get yourself ready, alright?”

Luna nodded, adjusting her dress and hat. As Aria walked away, the younger girl stayed seated, hands clasped in her lap. Her heart thumped harder now—too hard.

“Did she notice? No… no, I don't think she did.”

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Her breath caught.

“But something’s off. I felt it when the rain stopped. It was too sudden.”

“But something’s off,” Luna murmured, brows furrowing. “Aria said the rain here lasts for hours—at least—but this barely touched thirty minutes. It ended too fast. Too clean.”

She let out a quiet sigh, trying to shake the feeling. “Something’s not right… but whatever.”

A strange pressure lingered in the air, like a note that never finished playing.

She sank deeper into the chair, trying to look calm.

“How would I even explain it if she asked?”

She shut her eyes for a moment. Then opened them again when Aria returned, catching her eye across the room. Aria gestured gently, and Luna stood.

As they walked out together, Aria took Luna’s arm and laced it through her own.

Drip. Drip.

The rain had faded into scattered droplets, shimmering in the lamplight.

Together, they turned the corner toward the clothing store.

Then they saw the crowd.

A gathering of people stood huddled in front of the building across the street. The rain had driven them close, shoulder to shoulder, their umbrellas forgotten or closed. Whispers slipped through the gaps—uncertain, shaken.

“Is that… is that real?”

“No. No, someone staged this—this can’t be…”

A woman clutched her scarf tighter, voice cracking. “Who would do such a thing? In this part of town?”

“Oh, gods above,” an older man muttered, backing away. “That’s not just a murder—that’s a message.”

Another voice, younger, colder: “It looks like a ritual. Look at the way it’s pinned—like art.”

The murmurs tangled together—fear, disgust, speculation, denial—all rising like steam from the wet stone road.

Aria, taller and sharper-eyed, caught sight of it first.

A body.

A human body.

Pinned to the wall like a grotesque display.

A dagger pierced his temple, fixing his head at a sickening tilt. A belt strangled his neck, glasses cracked and bloodied. His coat hung in shreds, face nearly cleaved in two. One arm was missing—tossed meters away. His leg was broken, twisted unnaturally. Blood painted the wall in long, deliberate strokes.

A single note was pinned to his chest with a dagger, its writing too smeared to read.

Aria inhaled sharply. Then, without hesitation, she reached out and covered Luna’s eyes.

Luna didn’t resist.

“What’s going on?” she asked softly. “What did you see?”

Aria’s voice trembled, barely above a whisper.

“Nothing. Nothing, Luna. Just... don’t look.”

She guided her sister forward, away from the scene and through the murmuring crowd.

Bing-ting!

The bell above the door chimed as they entered the clothing store. Inside, the light was warm, the air scented faintly with cedar and pressed silk.

A clerk, neatly dressed and serene, approached with a bow.

“Welcome, dear customers,” they said kindly. “What brings you in today?”

Aria shook off the lingering sense of unease, unfastening her coat with a quiet breath. She hung it neatly on a brass hanger to the left, the soft creak of the rack briefly breaking the boutique's gentle silence.

Luna’s eyes wandered across the room, wide with wonder. The boutique breathed vintage elegance—amber light flickered from wrought-iron sconces, casting dancing shadows across worn herringbone floors etched with faded arcane runes. Brass racks displayed velvet coats, frayed cloaks imbued with lingering enchantments, and high-collared shirts fastened with tarnished silver buttons.

The air was laced with the scent of aged cedar and dried lavender, thick with the hush of old magic. At the back, heavy velvet curtains framed a quiet fitting space, watched over by cracked mannequins and curling ivy-like plants. Here, clothing wasn’t just worn—it remembered.

Aria reached over, gently pulling Luna close to her side. “We’re here to find something fitting for this little lady,” she said warmly.

Just then, a clerk approached with a graceful bow. “My name is Vivian, and I’ll be your attendant for today. This way, please.”

She gestured toward a plush seating area in the center of the boutique, inviting them with practiced ease. “Please, make yourselves comfortable. I’ll bring the catalogue as quickly as I can.”

“We appreciate it—no need to rush,” Aria replied with a soft smile.

She and Luna made their way to the sofa, the cushions sinking gently beneath them as they settled in. Wrapped in soft fabrics and golden light, they relaxed into the boutique’s serene atmosphere.

Vivian disappeared behind a velvet curtain, and the quiet hum of enchantment seemed to stir around them—subtle and still, as if the boutique itself was gently waking, preparing for something special.