Cameron To Candy

Fearmonth was the shortest month in the Paddlewick calendar, a mere 13 days. This was the case in most countries throughout the Cone. Candy’s first Fearmonth (as Candy at least) had been interesting so far, and tonight was the final night, both of the month and, more specifically, of the three days that collectively were known as Halloween. They called the final night Mocknight; a night when children trick-or-treated and citizens wore costumes, most of which mocked monsters, witches, and other enemies of Paddlwick. Hence the name.

Vivian arrived at Candy’s house two hours before sunset with a wooden costume trunk between her and Alyssa. The trunk was wide enough to require both women, although Vivian appeared to be contributing more encouragement than lifting. Marcus took it without comment and carried it into the sitting room while Alyssa followed with three hatboxes balanced against her chest.

Candy looked from the trunk to Vivian. “You said we were going downtown to eat festival food.”

“We are,” Vivian said. “And we’ll look great while doing it.”

“You said there might be costumes.”

“And it turns out there are. That’s how things work.”

“Yeah, it’s just, the way you said it before made it seem like there probably wouldn’t be…”

“But there are.”

“Uh-huh…” Candy gave up reluctantly.

Alyssa set the hatboxes on the table and straightened her sleeves. “She was deliberately vague with me as well. I was only told that all three costumes were approved under the Mocknight dress code exception.”

That explained why Vivian was so eager. Mocknight was one of the only evenings of the year when a Paddlewick woman could freely expose her shoulders, stomach, or a substantial portion of her chest without being warned about public modesty. ¹Vivian hadn't been old enough to join Thong Day the last time it came round, and while Pet-Girl Day did allow more revealing outfits, they were specifically animal-themed, and she often didn't have a man she was especially exited about to hold her leash, though many men would kill for the opportunity.The exception lasted from sunset until midnight and applied only to registered costumes. At one minute past midnight, the same outfit became indecent again and those wearing them had to be home or in a closed carriage riding back.

Paddlewick considered this reasonable because Mocknight was meant to demonstrate the kingdom’s contempt for monsters. Ghosts, hags, werewolves, vampires, and witches could all be imitated and mocked. Demons were the exception. No one was permitted to reproduce a demonic face, complete sigil, recognized horn pattern, or true name, even as a joke. Paddlewick took demons far too seriously to dress as them. About the only demon satire that existed was in the Seven Seals, and why that was allowed was anyone’s guess. Candy suspected the company that made it contributed donations as well as taxes to the kingdom’s coffers.

Vivian lifted the trunk lid. A Ministry label had been affixed inside it in large orange letters.

APPROVED FEARMONTH THEATRICAL ATTIRE. GARMENTS MUST NOT BE ALTERED BEYOND MARKED ADJUSTMENT SEAMS.

Beneath the notice lay three folded costumes, each wrapped in colored paper and accompanied by an illustrated character card. Vivian pulled them out one at a time and arranged them across the sofa.

The first was Valeria the Veiled Witch. Her costume was black and dark red, with a fitted bodice, a long skirt split above one knee, dark gloves, and a peaked hood with a thin veil hanging from the back. A brass clasp shaped like a broken ring fastened the belt. The neckline was lower than anything Candy had been permitted, or wanted to wear in public, and the bodice ended shortly above the navel.

The second represented Mabrina the Briar Witch. It was green and gold, with translucent panels resembling folded wings and embroidered vines curling around the waist. Its bodice was even shorter than Valeria’s, and the skirt rested low on the hips.

The final costume belonged to Avelora the Wailing Witch. It consisted of a silver-gray dress, several pale ribbons intended to be tied around the throat, some black and white makeup, and a ragged overskirt with a slit running nearly to the hip. Its neckline made the other two look restrained.

Candy examined the three costumes. “There isn’t enough fabric here.”

Alyssa held up Mabrina’s green bodice and studied it from both sides. “Everyone knows witches couldn’t curse villages without showing their navel or having their breasts pushed up to their chins.”

“It's traditional,” Vivian said.

“It’s an excuse to show skin!”

“And we could use that! We get one night for Aferditatas' sake! Now let’s honor history!”

Candy picked up Avelora’s illustrated card and looked at the silver-haired woman arching her back in the middle of a painted scream. “More like honoring breasts.”

Vivian took the gray dress from her. “That one is mine.”

“I’m not surprised.”

Vivian held the dress against herself and checked the effect in the mirror above the fireplace. She had evidently chosen it before leaving the shop. The silver-gray fabric suited her golden hair, although Candy suspected the neckline had made the final decision.

Candy turned back to the remaining costumes. Mabrina’s green-and-gold outfit was brighter and more elaborate, but the red-and-black costume held her attention. Valeria’s hood was severe rather than pretty, and the brass clasp looked as though it belonged on a piece of equipment rather than a dress. The outfit was still far too revealing, but at least it was not covered in glittering vines.

She picked it up. “I like this one.”

Vivian lowered the gray dress. “I thought Alyssa would be Valeria. She's the tall one.”

“I can be a short witch.”

“The paintings always make Valeria taller than the others.”

Alyssa began unfolding the green skirt. “The paintings were created generations after the supposed event. I doubt her height is the least accurate detail. We can switch if Candy wants.”

Vivian considered Alyssa beside the green costume. Mabrina’s bodice would show more of her stomach on her longer torso anyway. That could be fun.

Fine,” Vivian decided. “Candy can be Valeria.”

Candy took the costume before Vivian could reconsider. She couldn't explain why she preferred it, but something about it drew her in. Maybe because it showed the least skin.

Marcus glanced at the three outfits and then at the orange approval label. “I assume that seal is genuine.”

“Of course it is,” Vivian said. “I would never risk getting arrested over a neckline.”

Alyssa looked toward her. “You tried to cut the laces below the marked seam while we were walking here.”

“Did I?”

Marcus decided that was his cue to exit and left them to change in the bedroom. Vivian carried the trunk upstairs while Candy and Alyssa gathered the remaining pieces. Candy could hear Vivian talking before they reached the landing, already discussing which shoes would make Avelora’s legs look longest.

The Valeria costume fit better than Candy expected. Its bodice provided its own support and held her already perky breasts higher than her ordinary dresses did. A strip of bare skin remained between the bottom of the bodice and the skirt, leaving her well toned stomach and navel plainly visible. The skirt covered most of her legs when she stood still.

Candy turned in front of the bedroom mirror and immediately decided against turning again. The costume emphasized nearly every part of her transformed body that she still found difficult to look at directly. Her waist appeared narrower, her hips broader, and the low neckline made it impossible to ignore the jugs magic had placed on her chest.

Yet the feeling wasn’t quite the same as wearing one of Paddlewick’s approved wife dresses. No one claimed the outfit expressed her proper nature or reflected the woman she was supposed to become. It was openly artificial, chosen for a single evening, and meant to be removed afterward. Strangely, that made the exposed skin easier to tolerate.

Alyssa had already changed into Mabrina’s costume. The green bodice did indeed reveal more of her stomach than it would have on Candy. She examined the adjustment seams, tightened one at the shoulder, and checked that the Ministry approval charm still glowed.

Vivian emerged from behind the dressing screen wearing Avelora’s silver-gray dress. She had arranged the throat ribbons neatly and opened the overskirt as far as the approved seam allowed. “This may be the best law Paddlewick has.”

“It ends at midnight,” Candy reminded her.

“Then I’ll savor every minute!”

Alyssa opened the makeup case supplied with the costumes and removed the instruction cards. Valeria required dark red shading around the eyes and two narrow black marks extending from each outer corner. Mabrina had curling green lines along her temples, while Avelora received silver lips, pale face and dark markings around the eyes.

Candy sat at the vanity while Alyssa applied the markings. Alyssa worked with the same concentration she used when examining tattoo enchantments, pausing several times to compare Candy’s face with the illustration. Vivian did her own makeup beside them, although she spent more time adjusting the neckline than examining the card.

When Alyssa finished, Candy pulled the peaked hood over her red hair and fastened the brass clasp at her waist. The shape in the mirror bore some resemblance to the witch's face on the card, but they differed in the hair, where Velaruas's was long and black versus Candy’s dark red hair, but the clothing and markings looked unexpectedly natural together. Candy touched the broken-ring clasp, then lowered her hand.

Alyssa set down the makeup brush after finishing the black lines beside Candy’s eyes. Vivian checked the remaining contents of the costume case and found another instruction card tucked beneath Valeria’s hood.

“Oh, her eyes are supposed to be red,” Vivian said. “It comes with a cosmetic spell.”

Candy looked at the card. A small glass bead had been fastened to its center, with instructions printed around it in red ink. “Is that going anywhere near my eyes?”

“It doesn’t go in them. I touch your eyelids and read the activation verse. The color lasts until midnight.”

Alyssa held out her hand. “I should probably do it.”

Vivian waved her off. “You did the markings. I can handle one simple costume spell.”

Alyssa didn’t look convinced, but Candy had already tolerated enough preparation that arguing seemed likely to take longer than the spell. She faced Vivian and closed her eyes.

Of course, if Alyssa had known about Candy’s unique magic problems, she’d have told her the same that Elden had which Candy had forgotten; don’t mix magic unsupervised. The results could be very unpredictable.

Vivian placed one fingertip lightly against each eyelid and began reading from the card. The glass bead warmed as she spoke. Candy felt a cool sensation spread across her eyes, followed by a brief pressure behind them. It didn’t hurt, but for a moment it felt as though the new magic had to be pushed against something that didn’t want to make room for it.

The pressure disappeared before Candy could decide whether to say anything. Vivian removed her fingers and told her to open her eyes.

Candy looked into the mirror. Her green irises had turned a deep, unnatural red. Before she could comment, a faint red light passed through them, brightened twice, and faded back to the ordinary cosmetic color.

Vivian leaned closer. “That’s not supposed to happen.”

Candy turned toward her. “Is ‘not supposed to happen’ something I should be worried about?”

Vivian checked the card again, then looked back at Candy. “Mm. Well, good enough. Can you see normally, right?”

“Ye-yeah…”

“Then it worked.”

Alyssa folded her arms. “I knew I should have done it.”

Candy examined her reflection again. The red color remained steady now, although she thought she saw one last flicker near the edge of her left iris. Nothing hurt, and her vision seemed unchanged.

“If they catch fire later, I’m blaming you, Viv!”

Vivian handed Candy the peaked hood. “Yeah yeah. Your eyes look fantastic! Put this on before Alyssa finds something else to critique.”

A few minutes later after finishing their looks, they assembled at the big mirror in the parlor. Vivian came up behind her and examined all three of them in the mirror. “We look fantastic.”

“We look half dressed,” Candy countered.

“Same thing, at least for us,” Vivian smirked.

The thing for Candy was she actually was comfortable with having a bare chest. Her male instincts still led there, but usually when she did show cleavage, dozens of men stared wherever she went with arousal in their eyes, which was quickly training Candy to avoid her cleavage. It truly made her queasy thinking she was turning random men on.

They returned downstairs shortly before sunset. Marcus had set out tea and a plate of bread with cheese, presumably because he did not trust festival food to qualify as supper. He looked up when they entered and paused with one hand around his cup.

Marcus returned with a charcuterie board and a desire to see the final product, and had to ask if they were really approved by the ministry.

Alyssa collected a cup of tea. “All three costumes are Ministry approved. I checked the enchantment tags after Vivian tried to alter hers.”

“I barely touched it,” Vivian lied.

Marcus looked at Candy, then at Vivian again. His gaze dropped briefly to the exposed strip of her stomach before returning to her face. “Is that legal?”

“Until midnight,” Vivian laughed and took a piece of cheese from the plate.

They ate quickly while the light outside began to fade. More people passed the front windows as families made their way toward the center of town. Candy saw children dressed as curtseying ghosts, boo-bees, wolves, and several creatures she couldn’t identify. One little boy wore a cardboard monster head large enough to turn sideways every time he passed through a doorway.

Vivian checked the clock and set down her cup. “We should leave soon. Check-in closes in forty minutes.”

Candy looked over. “For what?”

“The contest.”

“What contest?”

Vivian’s expression lost a small amount of its confidence. “The downtown costume contest. I entered us as the Three Witches of Gloamwell.”

Candy lowered her cup. “You entered us in a contest without mentioning it?”

“I told you there would be costumes.”

“You said might! And you didn’t say anything about a stage.”

“It’s barely a stage. We walk across it, they judge us, and we might win a few gold coins and a silver performance pin.”

Candy hesitated. “You should have led with the pin.”

“Oh, look who's a pin chaser now!”

“Haha. It’s Mrs. Prim. She keeps making me earn more.”

“Sure. Mrs. Prim,” Vivian giggled.

Alyssa held out her hand. “Give me the competition pamphlet.”

Vivian produced a folded orange card from the small bag hanging at her wrist. Alyssa opened it and read the front before turning it over. Her eyes stopped midway down the second side.

“There is a performance component.”

Vivian leaned closer. “A what?”

“Finalists in the Historical Horrors category must present a scene between one to three minutes in length. The performance must depict a recognized portion of the relevant legend. Approved illusion props will be provided. Authentic curses, infernal language, and unlicensed summoning are prohibited.”

Vivian took the card and read the section herself. “I thought we only had to walk this year.”

“You didn’t read the back?”

“I, uh, skimmed it. There was a lot on there, okay!?”

Candy looked from Vivian to the three illustrated witches. “Do you even know what they did?”

“I know the general story. I mean, who doesn't? They stole everyone’s souls, and then a captain chased them away. Avelora wailed during most of it. I’ve been practicing my scream all week!”

Alyssa took the card back and unfolded the accompanying historical summary. “Valeria read the curse, Mabrina bound the villagers, and Avelora drew out their souls. Captain Harlan Frosthall broke their basin before they could escape with them.”

“That sounds manageable,” Vivian said. “Candy can read something, you can tie ribbons around people, and I can scream.”

“We don’t have people,” Alyssa pointed out.

“Then we'll use the props they provide. There’s probably some mannequins or something.”

Candy sat down carefully, keeping the slit in her skirt from falling open any farther. She took the historical summary from Alyssa and placed it beside her tea. “Alyssa, could you start the story from the beginning, please? If I’m going to publicly disgrace myself as a freaking half-naked witch, I might as well know their story.”