Her Rekindled Passion

The weekend finally came, and Anasthasia jolted from her bed before the sunrise painted the day. She took her time to freshen up and got herself ready. Turning around, she took a glimpse of Freidmirth as he stretched from the bed. Her hyperactive self didn't bother him one bit.

"Why are you so excited?"

"Because today, finally, I can do what I wanted the most." She giggled as her hands glided, feeling the rayon fabric, to the hem of the dress.

He sat upright with eyes that sparkled from enthusiasm. "You mean you'll hunt some riches?!"

Rolling her eyes, she then tied her wet, slick hair to a ponytail as she retorted, "You're one shameless dragon."

"What do you mean—?"

"—A freeloader at that."

Anasthasia's words drew so sharp that it stabbed him with depth. He froze in place, unable to refute her words. She heaved out a short breath and moved closer to him.

"Shall we go?"

Freidmirth nodded meekly; his claws clanked one another. Meanwhile, her arms wrapped around him and lunged to her chest. She caressed his scaled back in response, and then his tail wagged slowly. This time, they moved out of her room.

"Are you hungry?"

"I'm not." He harrumphed aloud.

"Silly, I'm just kidding." She pinched his cheek, stretching them wide, and he could only wail in pain.

His constant growls alarmed Lucy, wearing a blue apron and on a ponytail as well, who already immersed herself in front of the pot from cooking. Anasthasia smacked his forehead for the sudden disturbance.

She hissed, "You silly dragon—"

"Good morning, sister Ana. You're here!"

She took a pause, nodding from her delightful greetings. "I came here because Fried is hungry."

"What?!" Friedmirth took a sharp turn with such stares.

"I'm not surprised about that." Lucy giggled. "You're not hungry, sister Ana?"

As for her reply, she shook her head. "Though there's something I'm far more interested."

"Oh! Right, it's the weekend! I know what you're excited all about."

Anasthasia curled up her lips, striding towards the nearby countertop. Her nose recognized the savory aroma from what Lucy cooked. Leaning a little closer had her peek into the tasty meat and vegetable stew.

Freidmirth wiggled around for his eyes to feast upon. She was about to place him down when she felt the drool dripped on her arm, and she plopped him down the counter as he waved off in disgust.

"You—" she groaned, furious. "Why did you even have to drool?!"

"Can't you even smell the aroma in the air?" While he was at it, his mouth continued to drool.

"You're helpless." Anasthasia turned the faucet on, this time, thoroughly washing her arm.

"Sister Ana, you're not using magic this time," Lucy uttered without breaking her contact with the stew she's cooking.

"I don't need to. Why the fancy when things like these laid in front of you? That's just a waste of energy. Most especially for magicians who should conserve and be ready when the time comes."

"Indeed. I remember you always telling me that line."

"Exactly, what was it?" Anasthasia looked at her; eyes flashed with anticipation.

"Conserve whenever possible as magicians should always stay ready."

"Very good. Now, I'll see you this afternoon for our training," she added, and Lucy had no qualms about it.

After rinsing, she closed the faucet and took the cloth to wipe off her hand, but her hands aglow with such warmth, which caught Lucy's attention.

"I thought we wouldn't use such powers over trivial things, sister Ana?"

"Well, it's because the cloth was damp." She quipped in nonchalance, which had Lucy giggle in her stead.

Anasthasia flipped her hair as she turned around. She sashayed away, but Lucy wasn't over with her titters, so she chuckled in silence.

"Lucy, I'll go there now." Hands waved off without looking back.

Her voice started as a shout while replying, "Yes, sister Ana. I'll call the rest and eat for breakfast. I'll bring you some food when I head over there!" Her volume gradually dropped, and she responded with loud approval.

Anasthasia sauntered over to the living room; she took a glimpse of the ambiance that never failed to soothe her eyes. It was as though nothing much happened yesterday.

Although she didn't dwell further as she reached by the door and opened it, she couldn't contain her excitement.

The door creaked slowly, and the whiff of different fabrics smacked her nose. Then her eyes welcomed the plain cream walls with different accents that deeply piqued her interests. From what bore her sight, the wide array of clothes hung themselves with pride. The sudden intimidation challenged her, ensnaring her to move onwards.

Her footwear clacked clear and slow. Her eyes, moving back and forth, darted onto several garments of different styles in them. Tugging the hem of the emerald cotton tunic, she tilted her head as she scrutinized the minute details.

Anasthasia whispered aghast.

'What a wonderful creation—fabrics on fabrics weaved one another, creating a perfect and seamless pattern.'

Anasthasia was in awestruck. No words left her lips as she checked more of them. To the side, she glanced at the array of cabinets perched atop. Below found the rolls of fabric, of different colors and material, arranged systematically.

That said, her mind pondered, "This is a wide collection of fabrics! Comparable to her creations she made! Such a surplus is an understatement—'

If her eyes could open wider as it was, she would. Shocks after shocks delved inside her from all the complete set of equipment she could ever find.

'My, look at these. Everything that a fashion designer needed was here. When I was her age, I could only make do from the leftovers with a few tools that I have.'

She twisted her heel to the other side and noticed how the window cast—the table, the different picturesque, and the ornamental plants—into a golden glow. She then walked forefront, striding close to the work table.

Hands slid by the polished surface and eventually, to the parchments that contained savvy designs and measurements. Her lips parted from the intricacies laid in front of her.

A sense of joy swept over Anasthasia as she reminisced, 'My, I'm so impressed. This reminds me of my early days of crafting." She brought the sheets close to her chest, giving a soft embrace. "Those were the days."

Anasthasia glossed near the wall-mounted mirror and spun around, rechecking the silhouette of the dress.

'Since she gave me this space to work on, I must get to it!' All fired up, she rushed and sat comfortably on the chair and drew. Her passion rekindled so brightly that she completely immersed herself in it.

Time flew so fast that she finished her draft for the garment she would make soon enough. She brisked towards the rolls of fabric, cutting a few yards of it, and moved unto the equipment.

She moved back and forth swiftly, as though she was set into time pressure. After establishing what she needed, she slowly got to work on her silhouette.

In the middle of her work, Anasthasia didn't notice Lucy came with a food trolley cart. The soft clanging sound, along with her footsteps, never budged her one bit.

"Sister Ana, I have brought you food."

Anasthasia nodded gratefully. "Thank you so much."

"Are you almost done?"

From Lucy's inquiries, she hummed. "I think I'm almost done here." Her hands glided with grace, moving through the sewing machine with bare minimum effort.

Lucy's eyes squinted, scouring from every angle Anasthasia—the measuring tape, hanging by her neck, wrapped weirdly around her arm and the fresh, swollen lines on her fingertips—caused her to falter in concern.

"Sister Ana, are you alright?"

"Rest assured, it's been a while since I have done this. I'm just greasing up my rusty gears."

"That's a nice color palette you're going for, sister Ana."

Anasthasia never uttered a word and kept to herself, having that objective in mind to finish what she needed today. Lucy understood her sentiments, so she continued to prattle on.

"That silhouette. Isn't that much of a fitting?"

"Don't worry, I know my measurements," she said confidently.

"If you say so. To top it off, with those rhinestones in your fabric—Why not some sequins?"

"For all the fabrics sewn in here? That wouldn't be daring for me."

"But isn't this fabric you sewn just too short?" she found her voice trailing off as she cast herself a doubt, and not later, she realized what exactly she meant. "You mean—"

"You'll see it soon enough. I'm sure you'd appreciate it as much as I do."

Time continued to tick itself, and Anasthasia reached the final touch. She moved away, jolting upright, as she shrieked in success. Lucy clapped, utterly happy for her.

"I am finally done. My new creation!"

"Well done, sister Ana."

"Now, is there a fitting room?"

"It's over there!"

Anasthasia nodded from her gesture.

"You'll see the transformation, Lucy."