I woke up because the morning draft was being far too unceremonious with my ribs. I looked at myself—my clothes had turned into a scenic spiderweb. Rags, holes, scorch marks... I looked like a scarecrow that had tried to survive a fire and lost.

  Cloudy wasn't faring any better. Her outfit was also begging for the dustbin of history. Not that I was against it (it looked... interesting, actually), but decency required at least a few extra inches of fabric.

  "Listen," I scratched the back of my head. "Maybe we should scrounge up some new clothes?"

  "Why do you humans even need these rags?" Cloudy snorted contemptuously.

  Truly, why do we need clothes, I thought. Let’s just walk around naked. Naturalness, freedom, time-saving... The image flashed in my head for a second. I liked it. But I immediately pulled myself together.

  NO.

  We reached the edge of the woods. Ahead, beyond the field, a village was visible. I froze, not daring to take the first step.

  "What’s wrong?" Cloudy stopped beside me. "Afraid to go out to the people? The great Zenhald passes in front of a handful of randoms?"

  "I’m not afraid. It’s just... I haven't talked to anyone but you in a long time. I’ve forgotten how."

  I finally made up my mind and stepped onto the road. Cloudy trailed along, though I still hadn't figured out why she hadn't flown off to conquer the world yet.

  The moment we stepped onto the main street, the first old lady we met with water buckets broke into a piercing scream:

  "AHHHH! POSSESSED! THE DARKNESS HAS COME!"

  What? I was taken aback. What possessed one?

  I tried to approach, to say hello, to ask where the shop was... But the residents, as soon as they saw my face, scattered into their houses with shrieks, barricading their doors.

  In the end, we cornered some old dude who just didn't manage to hobble to his porch in time.

  "Hey, gramps! Stop! Don't be afraid, we don't bite!" I tried to smile.

  "DEMON! DEMON! GO BACK TO THE ABYSS!" The old man swung his cane at me.

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  "I’m not a demon! What makes you think that?"

  "Your eyes!" He pointed a finger at my face. "One is like midnight, the other... yellow? Green?! A curse!"

  I, in my naivety, thought everyone was running away because of Cloudy and her aura of oblivion. Turns out, I’m the only walking nightmare here.

  Cloudy broke into a mocking laugh behind my back.

  "HA-HA-HA-HA! Even the humans are afraid of you! What a fall from grace!"

  "Listen, gramps," I sighed, "I’m not a demon. I’m just... original."

  The old man suddenly froze, straightened up, and looked me over—no longer with terror, but with a kind of grumbling dissatisfaction.

  "Ah, well, if you aren't a demon... then, young man, you are simply outrageously ill-mannered!"

  I blinked. What was with the sudden change in mood?

  "And the lady with you..." The old man pointed disgustedly at Cloudy. "She’s practically naked! Shame and disgrace! Get dressed, for decency's sake."

  "That’s the problem, gramps," I spread my hands. "No clothes. Can't you help us out?"

  "Clothes must be earned," the old man cut me off, squinting. "Let’s do this: I’ll give you the duds on credit, and you’ll chop my wood for the winter and bring water to the horses."

  Cloudy’s fists started to clench, clearly planning to annihilate the old man along with his advice, but I said quickly:

  "Alright. Deal."

  "HEY!" Cloudy turned to me. "You’re going to do the bidding of this old fart yourself!"

  "What do you mean 'myself'? We both need pants, Cloudy. Get to work."

  We followed him to the barn. Cloudy, still boiling with rage, lazily waved her hand. Clean water rushed into the empty horse troughs directly out of thin air.

  The old man gasped, nearly dropping his cane.

  "So you... you’re mages, then?"

  "Well, something like that," I said.

  The old man’s attitude changed instantly. With the speed of a young sprinter, he darted into the house and brought out two sets of clothes—rough, peasant garb, but clean and whole.

  "Forgive me, masters!" he began to wail. "I didn't know... I didn't recognize mages! The world is in such need of miracles right now. People have completely forgotten what real magic is."

  "What are you talking about, gramps?" I asked.

  I walked over to his woodpile. I simply touched the massive birch logs with my palm.

  BANG. BANG. BANG.

  Under my touch, the logs simply burst into perfect, even firewood, stacking themselves into a neat pile.

  "Do you really not know?" The old man looked at the mountain of wood with awe. "Since these 'cannons' and 'muskets' appeared, mages have become very scarce. Everyone abandoned the miraculous and started shooting each other. If before the strongest and wisest survived, now... it doesn't matter how many years you spent learning to hold a sword or weave spells. Any peasant can shoot you from thirty paces."

  "I see," I said. Technology versus magic. The eternal debate.

  "Oh, sonny..." the old man wiped a tear. "You’ve prepared enough wood for two winters ahead. Mages of your level shouldn't be wandering the woods in rags."

  "Things happen in life, gramps. We’re just... traveling."

  "I understand," he nodded. "Running from a hard life... Fine. The main thing is that you don't do anything bad. And you know what? Come visit us tomorrow evening. My old lady is going to bake a holiday pie. Raspberry and honey."

  "PIE?!" I froze. The bear in my stomach started singing again. "YES! YES! YES! WE AGREE!"

  Cloudy just rolled her eyes, but from the look in her gaze, the prospect of pie appealed to her much more than raw bear meat.

  Looks like our trip for clothes ended in an official banquet.