"I think that's everything," (Patreon)

I declared. "I or my agents will check in periodically to see how the school is doing, and find out if you need anything."

"Very good, Mr. Young," headmaster Hoardblemish nodded. We shook hands and he led Burnside and myself out from his office to rejoin the rest of my group.

As we approached, Rebecca looked at me and declared: “My lord! I was just telling everyone about your skills with magick.”

Don’t worry," she continued via Elfmind when she saw my worried expression. I told the girls to keep your elfyness under wraps. Your secret is safe.” Then out loud: “Everyone is fascinated by your magickal skills with clothes, but we have some skeptics among us. Do you think you’d be willing to, um… provide a demonstration?”

“Heavens!" Hoardblemish exclaimed. "Mr. Young, does this mean that you are a student of the difficult and fickle craft of Fashionomancy?”

"It's just a combination of transmogrification and small apports," I explained modestly.

"But on a living body?" Hoardblemish replied. "I would very much like to see the technique demonstrated, if you're willing."

“Aye, please show us!" MacMath chimed in. "If I had that kind of knowledge, I’d ne'er ha' tae wash me kilts again!”

“You never wash them as it is,” Staircrawly quipped.

“Go ahead, Mr. Young," Burnside snickered, elbowing me in my kidney. "Give em all a good show.”

“All right, all right," I relented, holding my hands up in surrender. "Whose clothes do you want me to magick?”

“Mine please,” Rebecca blurted before anyone else could speak. “I was hoping you could give me another stylish witchy gown like I used to have. I've worn this forest ranger outfit that Ash gave me for long enough.”

“You’ve had plenty of time to get another one," I pointed out. "Why wait til now?”

“All the tailors and seamstresses refused to make an outfit with that much black,” she explained bitterly. “They said that such witchy fashion was tacky and would hurt their reputations.”

“Why didn’t you get one at the All-Hallows Spirit costume shop like Basil and I did?” Fiona asked.

“It would have been intruding on your own unique style!” Rebecca blurted a little too quickly. "They only had a limited selection, you know. Basil and I would have wound up dressed exactly alike."

“Well, if you’re sure you want to go out in public like that again...” I shrugged.

“I do! I do!” she squealed excitedly.

I wiggled my fingers theatrically for the spectators and quickly composed a Gramarye to give Rebecca another dark ‘witchy’ outfit similar to the one I made long ago. Since this was a demonstration for show, I added some sparks and smoke - but decided that a swarm of butterflies would not be appropriate for the dark and moody look that Rebecca favored.

Everyone oohed and ahhed appreciatively.

As the smoke cleared, Rebecca struck a dramatic pose and raised her hand, letting tiny bolts of lightning arc out of her fingers. She tossed her head and cackled madly, her voice reverberating down the palace corridor to terrifying effect: “Eh Ha Ha Ha Ha! AT LAST!!! I am whole again!”

She sighed contentedly and leaned down to speak to me. “What did you think, my lord? I’ve been practicing my illusions and my theatrics.”

"Not bad," I squeaked, trying to still the pounding of my heart. I noticed that everyone else had backed away and were standing pressed against the walls, staring wide-eyed at Rebecca.

"Egad, Miss," Hoarblemish croaked feebly. "I've already asked Mr. Young to teach here, but he is, alas, too busy. Please tell me that you're available! You would be a fine addition to our faculty and we'd be glad to take your students on here."

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