Disclaimer: The original characters Ambrose and Angelina Maurlias (any version), and Sabin, Samantha, Eric, and Alex Duvert are (c) Arania (also known as GaiaOnline's "Sabin Duvert") and are being used only by permission for a contest. The following text (and all subsequent chapters) should be considered fan-fiction and not canon.The scenario and writing are (c) E. A. O'Riordan (GaiaOnline's "Kuronue-chan") and are not to be used in any way without the express permission of the author, with an obvious exception for Sabin. Thanks for reading.

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Introduction

Welcome to "Tales," a collection of short stories about Sabin, Ambrose, and their families. Each story was designed to be stand-alone. There is of course one exception, but you'll know it when you see it. Each short story is also accompanied by a "notes" section, where I explain what I was thinking when I created it, what time it is set in, or other information I think you should know. Enjoy!

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Notes on AU: This story deals with immortal Ambrose, like “Seven, Eight, Nine,” but makes no secret of Angelina’s whereabouts, though she may have a longer lifespan than normal. The couple is in the process of assuming new identities for the next portion of their lives when they find themselves in a rather unremarkable suburban town. The setting in anywhere between the late nineties and today.

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Story 1: AU

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The twenty-something man unfolded his legs from their cramped position under the dashboard and sighed. He looked over at his beautiful wife, who was only beginning to show the first signs of aging, and she sighed too. This was another transition period in their long lives, and neither was too fond of uprooting everything and heading to a new place for a new identity and a new persona.

Standing and stretching outside the car, Ambrose wondered at the strangeness of it all. Here he was, at a gas station in some random town in some random state in America, looking for a new place to live for the next ten, twenty, or fifty years. Angelina leaned across the roof of the sedan, her skin still vaguely grey from the smog of the latest city they’d driven through. In the relatively clean air of the suburbs she was starting to regain her normal skintone. Smog wasn’t healthy for fey.

“I’m tired of driving,” Angelina said, stifling a yawn. “We’ve been on the road for nine days now. Can we just live somewhere around here? Looks nice enough.”

Ambrose looked around as he lifted the gasoline pump’s nozzle from its cradle. They seemed to be at a crossroad in the town: in two directions, large houses raised portentous heads in a show of yuppie wealth and hypocrisy; large brick-framed signs heralded the entrances to such pompous neighborhoods as Stag Run and Pinewood on the Green. In another direction lay neighborhoods that had seen better days; houses that looked like they’d been built in the sixties were still livable but seemed shamed by the proximity of grandeur in the form of the larger, newer, more expensive cookie-cutter mini-mansions. In the final direction was what Ambrose assumed to be the business district, of which the gas station was an outcropping.

“For Sale” signs peeped out between driveway in both residential areas. For a moment Ambrose contemplated stopping here. Money was no object; centuries of saving and careful investments had made sure that he and Angelina would never find anything out of their price range. But something was making the young-old werewolf cautious. Something unnatural, something that made every tiny hair on his body stand on end.

Then an odor cut through the acrid stench of gasoline that made him even more nervous. Even while in human form, Ambrose’s sense of smell was highly developed, and it had picked up on a disturbing scent. Not necessarily an unpleasant scent, but one that was wild and hot and slightly animalistic while still being completely recognizable as human. A scent that Ambrose knew very well, because it was his.

“Angelina, have we ever been here before?” the werewolf asked, his throat tight as he turned his head from side to side in an attempt to find the smell’s origin.

“Here? No, not that I can recall,” the woman rejoined, trying to read the expression on the face of her usually calm husband.

Ever? Ambrose repeated urgently.

“No, no, I’m sure we haven’t. What’s wrong? Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” Angelina also began looking around, hoping to find some answers herself.

A moment later Ambrose drew a gulp of air in sharply. Around the corner of the convenience store a teen came sauntering, down from one of the pompous neighborhoods. He had a thick shock of bright blonde hair that was stylishly cut into the fad of the month. His clothes were trendy, in a preppy sort of way, and his hands were buried deep in the pockets of fashionable jeans. But despite the differences in age and apparel, the teen and the centuries-old werewolf could’ve been twins. The same jaw, the same dignified brow, the same nose. Within a few years, their wide-shouldered build would even match.

Feeling suddenly disoriented, Ambrose swung about as he heard a familiar voice call his name. He saw a girl running up the sidewalk from the other part of town. At first he thought he was seeing Angelina–albeit a very different Angelina from the graceful woman who stood on the other side of their sedan, mouth agape. Why she had called his name, or how she even knew it, was a complete mystery to Ambrose, until she called again and the preppy-looking teen broke into a trot, swept the girl up, and spun her around, grinning.

The pair by the car watched silently as the boy set the girl down, kissing her on the forehead before asking, “How’s your weekend been going, Angelina?”

Twining her fingers into his, the girl retorted, “Oh, so-so. Y’know, missing my boyfriend because his stick-up-their-ass parents made him go with them to Dreu’s stupid states match. You owe me a slushee for ditching me all day yesterday, Ambrose.”

“I thought we just established that it was my stick-up-their-ass parents who were responsible for that,” the boy protested with a laugh, allowing himself to be pulled into the convenience store anyway.

When the two were out of sight, Ambrose and Angelina exchanged “what-the-hell-was-that” looks, their faces blanched. Neither could shake the feeling that they had just witnessed something that they were never supposed to have seen: a glitch in normalcy larger than themselves...or at least the individuals they liked to call themselves. Now they weren’t so sure that they were really Ambrose and Angelina, and not some imposters who had outlived their own claims to identity long ago.

“I, uh, don’t think this is the best place to stop,” Ambrose muttered, his voice strangled.

“Yeah, what’s another couple days’ driving?” his wife agreed, quickly getting back into the car.

In their haste, the couple forgot to pay for the fifteen gallons of gas they had pumped into their sedan. Unfortunately for the enraged owner of the gas station wanting retribution, they were never seen in the area again.

 

Story 2: There Is No Second Warning

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The young man stifled a groggy yawn as best he could. He’d had a late night...the party hadn’t broken up until four in the morning. Now he came stumbling into his anthropology class at the crack-of-dawn hour of ten. He slid into his desk and rummaged around in his bag for the can of coffee he’d brought with him. Downing the entire container in three swigs, he stared bleary-eyed towards the front of the classroom.

Twenty minutes later, he felt his head snap up. He hadn’t even realized it was drooping. His eyelids felt like a cruel mixture of lead and sandpaper, and it was nearly impossible to keep them open. Trying to be inconspicuous, he propped his head up on his hand to get more comfortable. The professor’s lecture faded into a pleasant hum in the background as the young man fell asleep.

“Stephen?”

The student opened his eyes. It felt like no time had passed at all. The professor was looking at him, so he quickly passed a hand over his eyes and responded stupidly, “Huh?”

The professor, a young-looking man with shockingly white hair, said, “We’ve been talking about fears and how they played a large part in the development of ancient cultures. What do you fear, Stephen?”

Stephen looked around at his classmates, most of whom had their eyes locked on him. “I...uh, well...I can’t really think of anything right now.”

“No? Nothing specific? How unusual,” the professor mused, eyebrows raised.

Stephen breathed a sigh of relief. He had been certain that he would be reprimanded for falling asleep in class. The upperclassmen had always said Duvert was really strict about that, but he seemed to have escaped unscathed.

“We’ll just have to run the gamut, I suppose. You shouldn’t have been sleeping in class, Stephen,” the professor said softly.

Blinking in confusion, the young man noticed that the edges of the room had become fuzzy. He glanced back at the front of the room and saw Professor Duvert slowly walking towards him, mouth slightly open. His teeth seemed even longer and sharper than normal.

Turning to ask someone else if they had noticed anything odd, he noticed that all of the other students were staring blankly at him. Then the left eye of the girl closest to him sagged. A splotch of a strange flesh-colored liquid dripped from her chin. Her features softened and distorted as more and more liquid splattered to the floor. Her face was melting.

Horrified, Stephen turned to his friend sitting two rows back. The boy’s black hair was leaving streaks of dark color in the oozing river of his face. His glasses clattered to the ground as his ears melted away. Stephen glanced around wildly and found that every student in the classroom was melting in the same way.

The professor was at his desk. Facing him, Stephen stifled a screech. The long teeth were now officially fangs, each one–and there were more than fifty–longer than his hand, making the face appear wildly disfigured. The blue in Duvert’s eyes had been consumed by red, and lumps under the skin on the cheekbones and over the professor’s eyebrows squirmed sickeningly.

“Tell me, Stephen, what do you fear?” the monstrous man above the student hissed, fangs clicking ominously. “Darkness?”

Instantly the room was covered in a blackness so complete that it seemed like light had never existed. Stephen stood and fumbled forward, to where h knew the door was. His groping hands met something wet and sticky. In a moment of terrible recognition, he realized he must’ve touched someone’s face. He tried to wipe his fingers on his pants, but the goo clung to his skin like a parasite.

Then was no noise in the darkness except his own breathing and heartbeat. There was no sound of movement, but suddenly a chill swept down his spine as the professor’s voice whispered, “Heights?” into his ear.

A dim grey replaced the darkness, and Stephen saw he was on a tiny platform, no more than a foot wide. In every direction was a huge chasm. What he imagined was thousands of feet below was water. One false step would send him hurtling down into that chasm.

Stephen tried to calm his breathing. He glanced at his hand and shrieked. Where the goo had stuck was a brown eye and part of an eyebrow staring spitefully up at him. He tried again to wipe it off, but the eye just glared.

A light chuckle caught his attention. Duvert was sitting across the chasm at his desk, which was the one thing in the room that seemed unchanged. The man himself, however, had become even more hideous. Oily black flames dripped from his gaping mouth, and as Stephen watched, the writhing skin on Duvert’s face cracked and peeled back, revealing four more evil red eyes. “Spiders? Rats? Snakes?” the deformed mouth whispered, the words coming out like thick globs of fire.

A ticklish scratching began in the pockets of Stephen’s jeans. A long, hairy leg poked out, followed by the huge, bulbous body of a spider. Something wriggled against his legs, and he could feel a cold reptilian body slithering up his back. Looking down, Stephen saw that dozens of rats were overrunning the platform, clinging to his jeans, gnawing on his sneakers. Spiders hung from his shirt and hair, and a long tongue flicked against his ear. Shrieking, Stephen tried desperately to brush the creatures off. He lost balance.

For a moment he thought he was weightless. Then he was hurtling downwards at an increasingly frightening velocity, spiders and rats following him off the ledge like he was some twisted pied piper. It seemed to take an eternity to fall...and then, too suddenly, the water seemed to rise up to meet him. The impact left Stephen breathless.

A few yards away, on an outcropping of the original classroom, Duvert was still sitting at his desk. How the desk had moved from the level of the platform to the water was a question that went unasked and unanswered. Duvert rose from his seat and walked to the edge of the water. His hair was turning to a gaseous black at the ends, and his skin seemed to be chipping away, revealing an inkiness that pulsated with a life of its own. Crouching, he spat, “Drowning?”

Stephen felt himself sinking in the water and tried to swim, but his limbs seemed frozen. The salt, for it seemed to be seawater, burned his eyes. His head dipped under the water and he sucked in a gulp of the freezing brine. He fought his way back up, spluttering and choking. But he didn’t stay above water long. Something brushed against his legs, and he looked over and saw Duvert grinning. A dorsal fin broke the surface of the water not ten feet from Stephen.

Frantic, the young man tried to swim to Duvert’s outcropping. But once again his limbs refused to cooperate. Struggling to breath, Stephen turned to face the fin, but it was gone. He bobbed for a minute, terror rising like bile, before a sharp pain erupted in his leg, and he was being pulled down, down, down...

Then a land was lifting him up, and he was gasping for air. There was still a screaming pain in his leg, but at least he could breathe... Looking over his shoulder, Stephen saw with horror that his left leg was gone below the knee, and there was a blood smear across the floor where he had been dragged from the water. As he watched, a huge shark rose up from the pool and lunged across the floor towards Stephen, its tiny eyes fixed upon him and its rows of teeth gnashing. Before it could reach him, however, it got caught on the lip where the floor had broken away, causing it to slide back into the water.

Stephen sensed a presence in front of him and saw Duvert hovering over him. Only a few bits of flesh still clung to the blackness, and the clothes were beginning to corrode. Leaning close, he chuckled, “The unknown?”

Suddenly all was dark again. Stephen lay panting and bleeding, completely ignorant of his surroundings. Then he heard the snuffling. What sounded like a huge creature was off to his left, breathing heavily and sniffing. A low growl started. Stephen had no idea what it could be, but his mind started to conjure up horrific images of monsters and beasts. The young man began to crawl away as quietly as he could. An unearthly howl sounded from his right. There was more than one. Stephen, disoriented in the darkness, scooted as best he could in every direction possible, trying to avoid the noises.

At one point he seemed to be leaving them behind. He reached his hand out to pull himself along when it fell into water. He could feel the water churning and pulled back just in time to hear jaws snap shut inches from him. The shark was still there.

Stephen curled up into a fetal position and fought the urge to cry. Then he saw six points of red light hovering above him. A clawed hand reached down and dug into his jaw, pulling his up. He dangled, feet inches off the ground, and finally started to sob. The eyes narrowed in pleasure as the savage voice asked, “What do you fear, Stephen?”

Stephen could see the outline of the creature that had been Professor Duvert. It was tall and seemed to be fluid and amorphous. The jaw was filled with dozens of huge fangs, yellowed and painted with blood. With the hand not holding him, the monster pressed claws into the young man’s eye socket. There was a horrible pain, and then Stephen could only see from one side. The creature studied the eyeball in had in its talons, then popped the whole thing into its mouth and crunched. Fluid leaked from its mouth as it grinned horribly.

Tell me what you fear, Stephen! Tell me!

“You! You! Stephen shrieked. “You you you you! Please, God, don’t kill me! It’s you I fear, okay! Please, God...d-don’t kill me!”

“Stephen?”

The young man sobbed uncontrollably, unheedingly.

“Stephen, are you all right?”

Stephen looked up suddenly. He was in class, the bright sunlight falling across his desk. All of his classmates were staring at him, shocked. Up front, Professor Duvert looked bemused. “Stephen, do you need to go back to your dorm? You’re not looking so good. You seemed to be having some sort of nightmare.”

Moving his feet, Stephen discovered he still had both legs. The young man felt his face. Both eyes were there, but tear streaks and snot covered a large part of the skin below them. Suddenly burning with embarrassment, he asked to go to the restroom.

The professor checked his smile as Stephen left the room. He wouldn’t sleep in this class ever again. Though, to be fair, he had given the boy a warning the first week of the quarter not to doze. He turned back to the class. All of them were looking back at him, puzzled. Well, all except for one girl, whose head was resting on her arms, her breathing deep and peaceful. Duvert quirked an eyebrow, focused in on her, and said to the sleeping girl in his mind, “Tell me, Amy, what do you fear?

This would be a fun day.

Story 3: Marquis de Cyr's Gala

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“What is it?” Ambrose asked, upon entering the drawing room and sensing that his wife was distressed. Angelina looked up from her perch on the window seat. She had a handsomely decorated piece of pressed paper in her hands.

“It’s the Marquis de Cyr’s gala,” she responded morosely. “He’s set it for the night of the full moon.”

The werewolf sighed. The Marquis de Cyr was barely twenty-five, and his generation hadn’t experienced the mass hysteria caused by the magical influx from Ravenloft some thirty years earlier. For them it was like dark whispers and superstitious beliefs that held no real merit; even those who believed those terrible times had really happened thought of them like an old war–something to be studied by historians and generals, and nothing that might concern them.

Ambrose himself was one notable exception in the minds of this young generation. The old Captain of the Musketeers had long been the subject of hushed gossip. He was one of the few surviving werewolves. While most of the others had been killed by terrified and misguided villagers in the years following Timothy’s short reign in France, Ambrose’s rank and connections had protected him. He was viewed as a relic of the bygone era by the youth...if what the rumors said were true.

That was the problem: no one had even seen proof that the nobleman Ambrose Maurlias was indeed a werewolf. Oh, they’d tried to get proof. Daring visits and invitations to parties on full-moon nights had been fruitless. It wasn’t that Ambrose was ashamed of his lycanthropy; it was simply that he didn’t want to make to make a spectacle of himself. A seven-foot werewolf arriving at a party or greeting guests would certainly be a spectacle.

“I won’t go,” Ambrose said with finality. “You may go if you wish.”

Angelina shook her head. “That’s not it. The invitation says the king of England and his family will also be attending.”

“I guess the Marquis’s influence reaches farther than his title would suggest, that he has a king attending his gala. Anyway, Arman will understand if I’m not there,” the werewolf muttered. But even as he said it, he knew he was trapped. The unspoken code of gentility demanded that he, a gentleman and Captain of the Musketeers, should attend at least long enough to pay his respects to the foreign king, even if that king was a close personal friend. To do anything less would be a major social faux pax that might reflect badly on the entire country. After mulling that over, Ambrose spat, “Damn that de Cyr.”

Angelina watched her husband carefully. “Does that mean you will go?”

Ambrose sighed. “I will need new clothes. Nothing acceptable for a gala will fit.”

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The next few days flew by. A tailor was called in, and a new suit of clothes was crafted for Ambrose. Preparations were made. Friday, the day of the gala, approached very quickly. On the morning of the event, a letter arrived. Recognizing the seal, the servants rushed it to Ambrose. It was from Arman.

Tearing open the envelope, Ambrose found the following note enclosed:

Ambrose –

I just found out that you accepted that damn de Cyr’s invitation. You don’t have to come. I will think of some excuse for your absence. I wish I had known about this sooner, for I fear this might be a plot on the young marquis’s part to draw you out. I’m very sorry for whatever part I played in it.

My runner has been ordered to wait for a response from you. Let me know your intention, Ambrose! I will react accordingly. After all, we must stick together, right?

Arman

Angelina, who had been reading over her husband’s shoulder, clucked her tongue. “Well, you’ve officially obtained the King of England’s permission to skip out tonight. What will you do?”

“I’m going.”

Angelina’s eyes widened. “What?!”

Ambrose set his teeth and crumpled the note. “I said I’m going. I’ve been preparing all week, and hell if I’m backing down now. De Cyr will get his werewolf, and that shall be that. But remind me not to invite the little swine to our next event.”

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Nine o’clock tolled at the ancestral home of the Marquis de Cyr, and most of his guests had arrived. There was, however, a notable exception: the Captain of the Musketeers, Ambrose Maurlias, and his wife had not yet made an appearance. While most of the older nobility were clustered around the English king, most of the young men and women were hanging about the entrance to the ballroom, waiting.

A round-shouldered youth glanced at his pocket watch. “Are you certain you invited him, de Cyr?”

The Marquis nodded irritably, and responded for probably the twentieth time that night, “Yes, yes, I invited him, and he said he was coming, too! I don’t know where he is.”

Almost as soon as he finished speaking, however, the sound of hooves clattering on the graveled drive caught the crowd’s attention. A crier bellowed, “Ambrose Maurlias, Captain of the Musketeers, and his wife!” for the benefit of those who could not see.

A carriage was in the drive, and the door opened to reveal...Angelina. The footman stepped around to offer his hand to the woman, who had more layers of skirt on that she could easily climb stairs in. Then a clawed hand gripped the edge of the doorway, and a wolf’s face peered up at the crowd clustered at the entrance to the house.

A shocked gasp ran through the assembled nobility as the tall, powerful form of the werewolf emerged fully from the carriage, dressed impeccably in blue. The light of the full moon caused his yellow eyes to glow as he looked at each person in turn. A few of the ladies seemed close to fainting. No one said anything as they stared down at what they perceived as a dangerous monstrosity.

From someone in the group came an urgently whispered, “Do something, de Cyr!”

The Marquis, who was one of the closest to the werewolf at twenty paces, muttered back, “What would you have me do? That thing could have me ripped to pieces in an instant!”

Ambrose heard these thing, and involuntarily his lip lifted just slightly in a quiet, mostly-controlled snarl. He should not have come...

Trembling, the Marquis de Cyr opened his mouth to say something. Before he could, the crowd parted as the King of England quickly descended to the drive. “Ambrose! How was the drive?”

The werewolf smiled a toothy greeting. Arman. It is good to see you.” He grasped the monarch’s outstretched hands, and said quietly, “Thank you for welcoming me.”

Arman’s eyes twinkled. “It is no trouble. I daresay some of those women up there are going to need smelling salts, though. Ah, Angelina! How are you?”

Seeing the king’s acceptance to the creature, the crowd drew him in almost instantly. The young men clustered around Ambrose, asking him about his condition and remarking about his custom clothing. They asked for shows of strength, which Ambrose politely declined, and tried to guess the length of his teeth. The showing of those teeth when the werewolf spoke, however, was enough to check some of the more brazen youths from making comments too freely.

The women absorbed Angelina into their groups and pelted her questions about being married to a “beast.” Feeling slightly insulted, but retaining her good manners, Angelina chose to simply not answer most of these questions.

In all, the all-night gala was tremendously successful. No one doubted the validity of Ambrose’s lycanthropy from that night forward. It would have been nice to say that the other nobles respected his feelings about appearing in his hybrid form in public afterwards, but that simply wasn’t the case. He was still bombarded with invitations to full-moon parties, all of which he turned down. Ambrose Maurlias was never seen in his werewolf form again in society, but that didn’t affect his appeal. He was treated with a mixture of awe and caution by the vast majority of nobility, but became very popular with the younger men, and the Marquis de Cyr was always able to boast afterward that he had played host to Ambrose Maurlias, Captain of the Musketeers and werewolf.

Notes on The Suit: I had a lot of fun with this one. There’s only one name given in the whole story, and that character never evens shows up. Setting is the second half of the seventeenth century. This story ties in with “Marquis de Cyr’s Gala.”

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Story 4: The Suit

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The tailor rubbed his hands together nervously. “I don’t know, sir, I don’t know. I’ve never tried something like that before.”

The servant stared the man down relentlessly. “I didn’t ask if you had tried. I asked if you could. My master needs clothes, and you are the only tailor in the area who is not to busy to complete a suit by Friday.”

Spluttering, the balding tailor replied, “But...the money! That much cloth, and an entire ensemble in four days...”

The servant sighed. “Money is no object, sir. Will you or will you not fashion clothes for my master? I am sure Gianno could be persuaded if you will not...”

The tailor swallowed sharply. Lately the Italian had been stealing all of his business. The foreigner was faster and cheaper, certainly, but he simply didn’t have quality on his side. The tailor himself made clothes to last, not cheap things made of second-rate fabrics. But the public simply refused to see that. Swallowing again, the tailor nodded his acceptance of the task.

Within the hour, the tailor stood trembling in a large, sunlit room. He was not a strong man, or a brave one. His true height was about 5'8", but years of stooping for fittings and leaning over whatever piece of cloth he happened to be working on had shrunken him considerably. His fine brown hair had begun to thin in his mid-twenties, and now there was more scalp than hair showing on the top of his head. His face was kind, if a bit pinched by constant worry over deadlines and decreasing business. But his hands and his eyes were steady and sure, and that is the most important trait in a tailor.

Soon the ornate door to the large, sunlit room opened. In strolled a man, approaching sixty in age, broad-shouldered and tall. His eyes, hidden by a pair of blue glasses, swept over the smaller man in an instant. “So, you are the tailor?”

“Y-yes, my lord, ” the tailor breathed in relief. Perhaps this task wouldn’t be so difficult after all.

The tall man with the odd glasses walked toward the center of the room and began to take off his outer clothes. “Why did you sigh like that, tailor?”

“Oh, nothing, sir. It was only that your servant described you as very large. I’m afraid I got a rather monstrous picture in my mind,” the tailor chuckled, a little embarrassed.

After disrobing to an appropriate level, the other man turned his hidden eyes to the permanently-cowering tailor. There was exasperation in his gaze, but also a little good-humored pity. “You have heard of my condition, have you not, tailor?”

Rubbing his hands together nervously again, as he was wont to do whenever he was uncomfortable, the tailor responded, “Oh, yes, yes, my lord, but I never put much stock in the rumors. Nasty things, rumors.”

A deep-throated laugh bubbled up in the other man. “Is that so? Well, my dear tailor, perhaps you had better start putting more stock in rumors.” And with that, he pulled off his glasses, showing yellow eyes rimmed with black: the eyes of a wolf.

Before the tailor’s horrified eyes, the man shifted and changed. His feet elongated while his legs shortened, forming haunches; his fingers thickened and the bottoms blackened; his vertebrae enlarged, and a tail formed; his ears pointed and moved higher up on the rapidly changing head; the nose slipped down and darkened as the jaw grew and the space between the eyes widened; and finally a thick pelt of fur covered the man’s entire body. The tailor barely checked a petrified gasp. There, standing before him, was a werewolf.

Suddenly serious again, the wolf commanded, “You are to make me a suit of clothes for the Marquis de Cyr’s gala on Friday. They must fit precisely; they must not be unsightly, but they cannot restrict my movement in the least, do you understand?”

The tailor nodded silently in what he hoped was a cool, calm manner, but his quivering belied his reluctance to even be in the same building as this living nightmare. But his need for business for once outweighed his desire to flee, so he reached into his small bag and produced a measuring tape and a scrap of rough brown paper for notes. Soon he had all of the measurements he needed, and prepared to leave.

The werewolf had shifted back to his human shape, and as the craftsman was escorted out by a servant, he called, “I like blue, tailor. Not this light green that is in fashion now.”

The tailor bobbed his head in ready acknowledgment as he was ushered back out onto the road.

Later, sitting in the back of his shop, staring at his measurements by candlelight, the tailor began to have serious second thoughts about this new enterprise. He had no idea where to start; none of mannequins even came close to the build of the werewolf. And an entire suit–and for a nobleman to boot!–in four days... The tailor decided it could not be done. He resolved to announce his surrender in the morning.

Then he glanced around his tiny workspace. He had not had a serious commission for a month; his tools had begun to grow dusty. The store was cramped and dingy, but he could not afford a larger shop. Hanging about him were half-finished designs for regal gowns and dashing coats–his own creations that he had given up on because he had grown discouraged. The Italian had flashy pieces hanging in his shop window, and the Italian had customers.

From there the tailor’s thoughts grew broader. He had married a pretty girl a few years back–not stunning, but pretty enough. They had been happy at first, but now she seemed distracted, disappointed. She seemed to be feeding off his own frustrations, and the two barely spoke anymore. This caused him to spend more time in his shop, where he only became more depressed.

Suddenly it seemed to the tailor like the only way to improve his rapidly sinking life was to complete this suit. In that late hour, in the candlelight, those bizarre measurements seemed to hold the key to something better. A deep determination gripped the timid tailor. The suit would be completed.

The next few days passed like a frenzied dream. Concept sketches, fabric selection, rough fashioning, fitting, adjustment, refitting, more adjustment, refitting, finishing touches, and the final showing all seemed to pass so quickly. The tailor, once he had set his mind on success, never looked back. He chose the finest silks and linens, the smoothest weaves, the most delicately dyed cloth. Nothing was too good or too rich. He sewed a suit the color of bluebirds and the sky in moments after sunset, with accents the color of richest cream and heirloom lace. The tailor poured his soul into that suit, and as he stood watching the werewolf inspecting the fit of the final product, he was afraid his heart would burst. The beast stretched and crouched and tested every seam.

At last, after several gut-rending moments, the werewolf turned to the tailor and grinned toothily. “It is good, tailor. This is much better than most of the clothes I have for my human body. But it must pass a final test,” he said, but the tailor thought he caught a bit of a laugh in the last sentence.

The door opened, and in walked the nobleman’s lovely wife. She gasped lightly upon seeing her husband, then walked forward to inspect the suit further. After a few seconds she smiled. “It’s beautiful.”

The wolf nodded its large head and grinned. “Then I am satisfied. I think you shall have to make all of my clothes from now on, tailor.” Then he turned to speak with his wife.

The tailor felt that he was excused, but his plucked up his courage and managed to stutter, “Uh, s-sir?”

The werewolf turned back to the tailor, who had never felt smaller. “Yes? What is it?”

“I was wondering, sir, if perhaps...perhaps when you are not wearing this suit, sir, if perhaps...I might have it in my shop? To display? If my lord wouldn’t mind, of course...” the tailor gasped. There, he had asked. Regardless of the answer, he had asked, and that was something for so timid a man.

The nobleman contemplated the tailor for a moment, and the smaller man suddenly felt as though the werewolf could see all of his motives and troubles, all of his hopes and ambitions. For a moment the tailor imagined that he was amused by what he saw, then the nobleman dipped his head. “I don’t see why not. Keep it clean and in good repair, for I may need it again. My servant will deliver it Sunday.”

The tailor beamed. “Thank you, sir! I will certainly care for it! If you ever need more clothes, sir, please, do not forget me!” And then he walked backwards, bowing, out of the room.

--

The suit went on display that Sunday after a very talked-about incident at the Marquis de Cyr’s gala. It seemed werewolves didn’t often attend social functions, especially dressed in such finery. Business increased exponentially; indeed, news of the tailor who had created such an unusual set of garments brought the curious and the wealthy from as far as London and Rome. The tailor had a custom mannequin made for the suit using the nobleman’s measurements. He was able to buy a larger shop. His first child was born a year later. He became prosperous.

The tailor would always say later that the werewolf’s suit was the most unusual garment he had ever crafted, and the pinnacle of his career. No great lady’s gown, no rich fop’s exquisite coat could ever match up to the werewolf’s suit. It didn’t matter how jewel-encrusted a garment was, or how high his commission was. His personal pride was in the suit of clothes that had turned his life around.

If you visit Paris today, you will find a much respected boutique in a fashionable part of town. If you talk to the employees, they will tell you that the legacy of that boutique goes back hundreds of years, but they don’t know much more than that. If you can find the owner, however, and if you buy him a drink and talk to him awhile, he will tell you of his great-great-great grandfather and the special clothes he made. If you express interest, he might take you to the boutique after it is closed, and bring you into his office. You will see the thinning brown hair on the top of his head as he unlocks an old chest. And then he will hold up a carefully-folded blue suit, beautifully made, the color of bluebirds and the sky in moments after sunset, with accents the color of richest cream and heirloom lace. He will unfold it and show you how the proportions would never fit a normal man, and he will whisper that these are the clothes that made his ancestor a famous man.

But he won’t let you touch the suit.

He has to keep it clean and in good repair, because someday the werewolf noble might need his clothes. The boutique owner never takes chances, because legends, especially the good ones, never die.