The Virtues' Magecraft

Page 64: The Forcing of The Scales

The Demon-Born was back in his dorm room, for the first time in days, at that. And instinctively, he threw himself onto his bed and laid still for a moment, only to remember why he went back there in the first place.

'Right. The box.'

A groan echoed in his head as he willed himself to stand, to pull himself away from the comfort of his bed and the warmth of his blankets.

Archibald had mentioned something about a uniform to the Virtues, something to use on their missions instead of their plain and normal clothes. After all, the Virtues often returned from battles dirtied and bloodied, their clothes were torn and ripped apart in some areas. For some (Alexander), it was more often than not.

It always seemed like a good idea, especially when the Demon-Born considered the number of white shirts had been turned crimson. He always hated where that color came from in those circumstances.

Now standing, it didn't take much searching to find what Archibald told him about. A large wooden box sat atop his desk. It was ornate, painted black, and adorned with golden edges. More gold was fixed onto the hinge that allowed the book to open.

He gently unlocked the latch, letting the golden hook fall and clatter against the wooden surface. Alexander grabbed the top and raised it. It fell and let out another rattle against the back of the box.

The first thing inside was a single piece of paper, a single note. 'Designed for The Heavenly Virtue, Diligence: Alexander A. Lane. Courtesy of your favorite Paladin. Thank you.' it read.

Alexander picked it up and smiled.

But under that note... sat his uniform.

It was almost all black, save for a handful of white and golden features riddled evenly throughout the uniform. Met with that sight, Alexander couldn't help but spit out a heavy breath. "Holy shit..." he muttered.

He placed the note down beside the box, leaving Alexander to slide his hands into the cloth, pausing to realize how comforting it was. It was as soft as silk, yet as he traced his fingers against it, he realized it was tough and sturdy. Durable.

His grin widened.

It was only a matter of a few minutes for Alexander to change out of his normal clothes and into his uniform. He left his white undershirt on, of course, but regardless of anything, that uniform was comfortable. Surprisingly so, he determined as the soft cloth rubbed against his skin with each moment.

Alexander sped to his bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror.

The uniform itself was mostly black, both the top and pants, with white accents attaching across his arms wrapped in gold.

Alexander didn't know what cloth it was made of, but he understood what it was supposed to be capable of. No, what it was capable of. The shirt was built of flaps, overlapping at the center, brought together by a line of thick buttons over the first layer. And so, it created a perfect seal of comfort and efficiency.

It was a collared shirt, with stark white running across the ends of that collar and atop the shoulders with golden cloth surrounding each layer of white. A thick pale streak ran down the long sleeves, reaching his white cuff with two golden bands encircling his wrists. That shirt carried down just under his waist, the cloth sitting beneath the black leather belt that held it all together.

The pants were a similar case, nearly all black with two vertical strips of golden cloth interjecting at the sides and a single band of white within.

It was perfect. That was all Alexander thought.