Elara blinked groggily as a familiar shape loomed over her bed.
"Up, sleepyhead!" Lyria's voice was far too cheerful for how early it felt. "You've got a visitor. A grumpy old mentor waiting in the common room."
Elara groaned, rolling over to bury her face in the pillow. "Tolan?"
"Yup. He said something about 'not being allowed in the dorms because rules exist for a reason.'" Lyria made dramatic air quotes. "He looks like he hasn't slept. Which probably means you're doing something wrong."
"Great."
It was Saturday. At the Academy, weekends were reserved for project work and self-directed study. Technically free time, but in practice, a whirlwind of magical experiments, social obligations, and forced productivity.
Elara dragged herself out of bed and changed into casual clothes: a simple blouse, dark pants, and low boots. Comfortable, practical, and—
Sylv appeared in the doorway, lips twitching.
"That's what you're wearing?" she asked, arms crossed. "Elara, sweetie, that's a waste of potential."
"It's not a gala."
"It should be. Your face deserves one."
"I hate that you're sincere about that."
Downstairs, Tolan stood just outside the dormitory entrance, arms folded and expression unreadable as always. His long coat fluttered slightly in the morning breeze, and his hair looked wind-tousled, as if he'd walked straight through a storm to get here.
"You're late," he said.
"I'm awake," Elara replied flatly. "That's enough."
His eyes scanned her outfit. He grimaced.
"Are those practical shoes?"
"Yes?"
"Unacceptable."
Before she could respond, Sylv and Lyria flanked her like bodyguards.
"She needs an upgrade," Sylv said.
"Something modern. Chic. Dangerous," Lyria added, eyes sparkling.
Tolan nodded in grim approval. "Then let's fix this."
The boutique was nestled between a magical tea shop and a bookstore, its elegant sign reading "Moonlace Atelier" in flowing silver script. Elara didn't recognize it at first—until she stepped inside.
Then her breath caught.
"Mira?"
A familiar voice answered before she could scan the room.
"Elara!"
The brunette practically leapt over the counter to embrace her. She'd grown a little taller, her hair longer and tied in a stylish braid, but her bright smile was unmistakable.
"What—how—"
"This is where I work!" Mira beamed. "Well—was where I started. Two years ago. This shop hired me when I moved to the capital."
Elara's jaw dropped. "Wait—this is the place?"
Tolan cleared his throat behind them. "I may have... arranged a few things."
"You planned this?"
He didn't answer. He just looked smug.
Lyria and Sylv eyed Mira with curious interest.
"This is Mira," Elara said, turning to them. "My... first real friend. From home."
Mira curtsied playfully. "It's lovely to meet you both. And I must say—Elara's glowing lately. You've been taking care of her?"
"Trying," Sylv replied with mock exasperation. "She resists."
"Stubborn as a golem," Lyria added.
Mira grinned. "Then it's settled. The end goal is to dress her perfectly. No complaints. No mercy."
Elara paled. "Wait, hold on, I didn't agree—"
"Too late," Mira said, already pulling out fabric swatches.
And so began the parade of outfits.
Outfit One:
A sleek crimson dress with a plunging neckline and high slit, paired with matching stiletto heels. The moment Elara stepped out, Lyria made a choking sound, and Sylv gave a slow, approving nod.
Elara tugged at the hem. "I can't even breathe in this."
"Perfect," Mira said.
Outfit Two:
A sapphire-blue cocktail dress with delicate silver trim, knee-length with a flare. Paired with silver heels and a light crystal shawl.
"You look like royalty," Sylv said, eyes gleaming.
"I look like I'm about to be sacrificed in a temple," Elara grumbled.
Outfit Three:
A black leather corset top, short layered skirt, thigh-high boots, and a choker with a mana gem.
Lyria whistled. "You look like a magical assassin on a date."
"Why would I ever need that?"
"Just in case."
Outfit Four:
A soft pink dress with lace accents, paired with glossy nude heels and a pearl hair clip.
Elara sighed. "I'm going to slip and die in these."
Mira raised an eyebrow. "You're walking better than half the customers I train."
"I hate how comfortable these are," Elara admitted under her breath.
Sylv leaned in. "You realize that makes it worse for you, right?"
"Yes."
Outfit Five:
A high-collared emerald dress with sheer sleeves and a low back, paired with sleek black stilettos.
"This one is elegant and mysterious," Mira said. "Powerful vibe."
"I feel like I should be giving speeches in a throne room," Elara muttered.
"Exactly," Sylv said, starry-eyed.
Outfit Six:
A silver mini-dress that shimmered with embedded mana threads, paired with dangerously tall heels and magically levitating accessories that orbited gently around her.
Elara stared at herself in the mirror. "This is... absurd."
"It's fashion," Mira said.
"It's a sci-fi goddess look," Lyria added. "And somehow, it suits you too well."
Outfit Seven:
A navy blue blazer dress with golden buttons, paired with polished navy pumps. The outfit gave off a stylish academic aura.
"I hate this," Elara said.
"You've been walking in heels for three hours and haven't stumbled once," Sylv noted.
"That's what I hate the most." Elara's face was flushed. "I feel natural in them. Why do I feel natural in them?"
"Muscle memory from a past life?" Lyria offered.
"Maybe you're just secretly elegant," Mira teased.
Elara groaned. "That's worse."
After a moment of internal struggle, Elara sighed in defeat. "...Fine. I want the navy ones. And those black stilettos from earlier. And the ankle boots. And maybe the red ones, too."
All three girls blinked.
"You're buying heels for school?" Sylv asked, stunned.
"Don't judge me," Elara muttered. "They just... work."
They tried dresses with dramatic backs, dresses with dangerously low cuts, layered skirts with magical glow-thread, even one outfit with floating rune accessories that changed color based on mood. Every time Elara changed, she emerged with a mix of dread and reluctant admiration—for the design, if not the exposure.
The final outfit was a long white evening dress, backless, with a slit that climbed almost indecently high and matching glass-like heels.
"Absolutely not," Elara said, arms crossed.
"Oh, this is the one," Sylv said dreamily.
"It's elegant and weaponized," Lyria added.
Mira nodded. "She's a goddess of vengeance in this."
Elara gave up.
They bought everything. Mira promised that the outfits would be delivered later by store staff, saving them the burden of carrying so many bags through the capital.
As they walked back to the dorms with only their personal items in hand, the four girls moved slower, chatting softly and occasionally bursting into laughter over the more absurd outfits Elara had tried on. Mira walked slightly ahead, recounting some of the early days working at the boutique and how it had been her first job after moving to the capital. "I never thought back then I'd be dressing you like a fashion princess," she teased. Sylv responded with a grin, "Oh, it was fate." Lyria added, "A fashionable fate." Elara just groaned good-naturedly and shook her head, the sound of their shared joy lingering in the warm afternoon air.
"I can't believe this happened," Elara muttered.
"You're welcome," Mira said, skipping slightly.
They reached the dorm steps, and Elara turned to Mira.
"I meant to ask... how's Leo doing?"
Mira smiled softly. "He's good. He joined the city watch as a knight adept. Tough job, but he seems happy. He asks about you."
Elara felt a pang in her chest. "I'll write him."
"You'd better."
A hug, long and tight, and then Mira was gone, disappearing into the quiet of the evening street.
Back in their room, Elara collapsed onto her bed face-first, groaning.
"I hate fashion," she mumbled.
"You love fashion," Sylv corrected.
"You love us loving you in fashion," Lyria teased.
"Shut up."
Elara drifted off to sleep, sore-footed and soul-weary—but warm inside. Mira was okay. Leo was okay. And for once, she didn't feel alone.