Ask for a demonstration

Courtney makes a good point, and after all all, seeing is believing. The ladies return to their guest, and Adella says, “Master Rezkin, I confess I am intrigued, but I am unsure what to expect. Would you be good enough to give us a demonstration of your abilities?”

“A demonstration?” Rezkin looks offended. “With all respect, Your Highness, I am not a sideshow magician who pulls rabbits out of a hat for a few gold coins.”

“No disrespect intended, I assure you,” Adella says, “but we are unfamiliar with your ways and your abilities and need to what to expect.”

Rezkin forces a smile and nods. “Of course. As you command, Your Highness.” He looks around the room, thoughtfully, until his eyes fall upon a cloak that is hanging by the door.

“This may convince you of my abilities,” he says, taking the cloak and holding it in front of him. “Imagine you are wanting to avoid detection. I could create a diversion by animating this cloak and having it move about as if it were a living person.”

“That’s extraordinary,” exclaims Adella. “By all means, let us see this marvel.”

Rezkin hands the cloak to Courtney and asks her to hold it in her hands. She stands with her arms outstretched, looking at her magical friend with expectation. Rezkin steps a few feet away, looking in her direction with concentration. He rubs his hands together, takes a deep breath, and mutters, “Indumentis bellum moveremus!”

Courtney lets out a cry and drops the cloak. Adella looks at the cloak, expecting some kind of movement, but seeing none, looks up questioningly at her friend to see what caused her exclamation. At first, she wonders if Courtney is having some kind of fit. Her arms and shoulders are waving around erratically, as if she is fighting some unseen ****.

“Courtney! Whatever is wrong—“

Her question is cut off as she sees Courtney’s clothing begin to fly off of her body. First her scarf, then the jewelry on her hands, wrist, and neck appear to throw themselves off her body. As Courtney spins around, trying to wrestle control of her attire, Adella sees the buttons on the back of her dress undo themselves.

“What is happening?” the princess asks Rezkin ?

Rezkin looks on in astonishment. “Lorica!” He says, punching his fist into his open hand. “I should have said lorica instead of indumentis!”

They duck as Courtney’s dress peels off her and goes flying over their heads. “What are you going to do about it?” Adella demands, as Courtney’s cries increase in volume and urgency.

“Please don’t yell at me!” Rezkin says. “I need to think!”

With a pop that can barely be heard over Courtney’s cries, her bra unfastens. She reaches frantically for it and grabs it by a strap. Adella and Rezkin watch it horrified fascination as Courtney appears to engage in a game of tug-of-war with an invisible something. Abruptly, her empty dress pushes Rezkin out of the way and takes hold of the other end of the bra, pulling it out of Courtney’s grasp. The dress then appears to pull its own top down, secure the bra in place, and then pull its top back in position and button itself up.

Adella returns her gaze to her friend, who is trying to cover her exposed breasts with one arm while fighting a losing battle with her panties with the other. Like the other articles of her clothing, they pull themselves off of Courtney’s body and join the rest of her clothing, which is now fully animated and looks as if they adorn an invisible woman. The clothing adjusts itself and moves over to a mirror, as if in inspection.

Adella rushes over to her naked friend, who is wide eyed and in tears. Taking the cloak from the floor, she wraps it around her and holds her in her arms consolingly.

Rezkin, for his part, looks back and forth between the animated clothing and the now nearly-naked woman with an expression of both fear and wonder.

“Whatever did you do?” demands Adella. “Fix this at once!” She ushers her friend in the direction of the bathroom for privacy.

Rezkin holds up a hand to stop them. “Wait! I can fix this, but Miss Courtney cannot leave the room. If she leaves my sight now, the spell’s effects will become permanent. I need her to stay while I sort this out.”

Courtney finally finds something to say other than surprised and terrified cries. “Well at least turn your back and let me get dressed!”

Rezkin’s cheeks turn red. “I’m sorry, but I cannot, and I need you to take the cloak off as well.”

“Are you mad?” Adella cries. “You want her to stand here exposed to you?”

“I’m sorry, but you must. I have to keep the spell active, or it will become permanent, and that requires line of sight. And if your clothing senses you have rejected it by bonding with another article of clothing, it could sever the link itself and make this permanent.”

Reluctantly, Courtney removes the cloak and does her best to cover herself with her hands.

“Now come over here by me,” commands Rezkin, as he steps near the animated clothing. “Reditus!” he commands the clothing, but nothing happens.

“As I feared,” he says. “The feelings of joy and goodwill are diminishing here, and it is affecting my powers. I must have direct contact.”

Without waiting for permission, Rezkin reaches to Courtney, putting his hand on hers. “Reditus!” Abruptly, the clothing’s arm lurches toward Courtney, as if being pulled. With a flash of reflected light, the three spectators see a bracelet free itself from the clothing, fly through the air, and attach itself to Courtney’s wrist.

“That’s all?” she asks, looking at her wrist, doubtfully. “What about the rest?”

Rezkin looks at the clothing thoughtfully.