•───────── Gloaming Hapertas ────────•
54th of Glade, 124th Year of the Age of Steel
Filaurel had been a creature of habit even when he served under House Val'Kor's auspices, and the decade of painfully slow rehabilitation had only reinforced that. He rose, washed up, dressed, and made a round of the shop to ensure that everything was in its proper place all before he broke his daily fast. He inspected each shelf and mannequin, pulling and nudging at his wares to ensure they were well-displayed, before he unlocked the door, set out the shingle, and began work once more.
He'd had dreams, the past week. Len'Alen was not one of the fortunate bloodlines blessed with particular insight into Thiovan's realm, nor had he any gift of prophecy, but like many elves he did place a certain amount of significance in the apparently-random scenes. He'd dreamed of a bird opening its wings in the center of a tree, and of the dark sky, star-studded, and decorated with one too many moons. This, of course, he attributed to his unusual guest's musings. In particular, his chat with Turuher had put him in mind of a particular symbol which he thought he might update and incorporate into his designs.
It was while sketching those designs that Len'Kouneli reappeared, though Filaurel was not in fact so in tune with the time to realize the improbable coincidence of it. Rather, as the door opened and he turned to observe the huge elf's entry, only satisfaction flooded his face.
"Ah, Len'Kouneli!" he exclaimed, voice redolent with genuine enthusiasm, "But you have come in good time. Just last night, I finished work on our prototype. Here, let me show you-"
The pile of half-finished projects on the sewing table disturbed itself, scraps of cloth tumbling down like grains of sand off a dune. A complex assembly of cloth worked its way gently free from a pile of pale lavender hosiery, slowly knocking itself free of wrinkles as it unfolded in the air. It drifted closer to Turuher, presenting itself for inspection.
The garment was much as Len'Kouneli had envisioned it, save for certain parts which the tailor had been forced to alter out of practicality. It was fashioned in the main of leather, meant to clasp the calves and thighs, and with silver clasps designed to be quickly removed or attached, four pieces in total. Connecting them all was a web of sheer, silvery cloth- very thin, but designed of the exotic metal threads of Gelarand, and almost certainly stronger than the treated leather. Filaurel had taken great pains in the design to maximize the area it would cover when the flier's legs were spread, permitting them greater control over its effect on their velocity.
Though the thing had clearly been designed with practicality in mind, Filaurel had nevertheless added a bit of design- on the corner of the sailcloth, such that it would be facing upwards to the sky, was a small and stylized embroidery of circles and stars, arranged in an old pattern. Long, long ago, it had been one of innumerable symbols of the Boundless Empire, meant to symbolize Ransera itself in the days when Sol'Valen had administrated other worlds. Filaurel had subtly adjusted this, too, adding a third lunar circle to correct for the planet's new satellite.
"Well, come now, try it on- it is meant to be worn over the pants, so there is no need to strip. You shall have to test the airworthiness elsewhere, naturally."
