12-15-2025, 05:48 AM
Needle up, through, and down. Up, through, and down.
Kathryn Andrei sat at her workbench, carefully sewing strips of decorative spare strips of cloth (in Eirian, leis rešerei) to the sleeve of a deep red halar with a strong silver thread. The daytime sunshine poured through her shop’s front window, highlighting the handmade traditional Eirian garments, both simple and intricate, that lined every square foot of the store. Robes, matja capes, ašadza hooded robes, and a variety of multicolored and patterned sashes hung from racks, a veritable rainbow of Eirian culture lined up for sale.
A pair of nondescript black vehicles pulled up outside the front of her small store, causing Andrei to bolt upright. Angels guide me, they're here. She carefully placed down her current project on the table and bolted to the door, opening it as four uniformed agents came in and acknowledged her with a bow.
After peeking around her shop and ensuring no one was hiding beneath the various racks of clothing, the agents retreated, clearing the way for Eiria's Chancellor and Prōviri, with their niece Amalija in tow.
“You know, you really didn't have to do this, tanta,” the younger woman said sheepishly as she looked around at the beautiful outfits on display. “This on top of the ceremony at the Manor will simply be too much.”
“Nonsense. It's your wedding. I want both you and us to look the part!” Chancellor Stendē smiled and walked over to the store’s owner, greeting her with a bow. “Madame Andrei. Always a pleasure.”
“The pleasure is mine, kurena.” The seamstress returned the bow, before making a gesture toward the back of her shop. “For your lovely niece, I brought out a variety of wedding ašadzasei over here.”
She then turned to Amalija. “Does your fiancé have one picked out already, or do we need to find a matching set?”
The younger woman shook her head. “A matching set would be great, if possible.”
“That's more than alright. Come along, dear.” The experienced craftswoman guided Amalija past rows of robes as her aunt and uncle browsed.
“We'll keep looking for our outfits while you two discuss what you want!” Stendē called out before turning to her husband. “So… what outfit do you think would be appropriate for a wedding at the Manor?”
Peter Kalev, the tall, bald labor lawyer who Stendē had met in a mock trial competition more than thirty years prior, shrugged his shoulders. “Not sure. Has there been a wedding at the Manor in a while?”
“Not since Badolis’s son in the 90s, I think.” The Chancellor pulled a purple and white halar from the rack and held it up to her shoulders, checking its length. “How would this look?”
Kalev considered the outfit before shaking his head slightly. “Very Aurian, isn't it?”
She sighed and put the robe back. “I guess.” She glanced over a row of more ornate robes, pursing her lips. “I know I'm going to get dirty looks from a whole bunch of designers who would want to dress us for the ceremony, but at the same time… it's just so much easier this way. Plus, Andrei has been doing this for thirty years, and supporting small businesses is always a plus.”
“Indeed.” Kalev perked up and pulled out a forest green halar, before making an expression of disappointment at the sight of a plečjost shoulder sash. “Why in the name of Irina Pečs did these become popular? I always felt like I was being hugged to death whenever I wore one properly. And if I tied it loose, I'd risk flashing everyone.”
“Wouldn't that be a story for the ages? ‘Prōviri Exposes Himself at Niece’s Wedding.’ Though, in that sense, they'd make good nighttime wear,” Stendē said with a glint of humor in her eye. “I think I may wear my mother's topaz broach, so perhaps going classic blue and red may be the best choice.”
Kalev nodded. “It would be historically appropriate, if you don't mind being a bit cliche.”
“You say cliche, I say classic. Some traditions are everlasting.” Stendē pulled out a long blue halar with deep red piping. “There we go. This should work perfectly. What do you think?” She asked, displaying her selection.
The Prōviri considered the garment, comparing it to his wife's complexion. “I like it. Will the reflectivity play well on camera, though?”
“I don't see why not.” The Chancellor tucked the outfit under her shoulder, turning around to look towards the back of the shop while tapping her heel on the ground. “I wonder what's taking them so long.”
“Dear, it is her wedding ašadza,” said Kalev with humor in his voice. “It’s not exactly an easy selection to make.”
“Then we should go back to help her!”
Just as Stendē started to stride towards where her niece had gone, her husband lightly grabbed her arm.
“She'll ask for help if she needs it, my love. Please, let her do this on her own,” Kalev requested with a sympathetic stare.
While Stendē didn't pull away from his touch, her gaze did sharpen. “We still should be there to support her.”
“Leah, you have been closely involved with every aspect of this wedding, from the venue to the menu.” The Prōviri held his wife’s hand. “Amalija’s an intelligent young woman. If she needs more support, she'll ask for it.”
“Still, we have a responsibility to help her out whenever she needs it!” She replied in protest.
“Because Article Three, Section Six of the Constitution gives you responsibility for weddings now?”
The Chancellor sighed with an exhausted chuckle. “Point taken. I just… I want to get this right. Ever since Lara and Mark died… I just want to be someone the girls can rely on. I want them to know they still have someone to rely on.”
“That's completely understandable. And you have been the best aunt they could ever ask for, my starlight.” Kalev pulled his wife into a loose embrace, resting his head on her shoulder. “But you don't need to do everything for them. You have to let them grow and move on on their own.”
“I know, I know. And thank you, dear.” Stendē gave her husband an appreciative squeeze before disentangling herself from his grasp. “But the next time you try to appropriate the Constitution into our arguments, I'm applying my seal to your head.”
The Prōviri chuckled, running his hand over his hairless skull. “Just as well. Could use a bit of a waxing anyways.”
As the pair continued to browse the racks, the shopkeep and Amalija came to meet them, carrying a simple off-white halar with some subtle patterns and a long matching cape.
“This one was the one that called out to me the most,” their niece said, showing off the different elements of the design. “What do you two think?”
Stendē smiled widely. “It's absolutely beautiful! And so long as you and Kal like it, it's perfect.”
“I agree with what she said,” Kalev said with a thumbs up. “You're going to look stunning, Ama.”
“Aw, thank you, Onkls.” Amalija turned back to Madame Andrei with a wide grin. “Can we go look at what adjustments we can make for my fiancé?”
“Of course, follow me.” The skilled seamstress gestured for her to follow her over to the workbench, leaving the Chancellor and Proviri alone once again.
“So… shall we find you something to wear?” Stendē asked, flipping through the slightly grayer shades of halarei geared towards men.
“I don't know, it's pretty hard to find something to fit someone this tall and handsome,” Kalev said with a wink.
She laughed wholeheartedly. “Exactly, my love. Come on, we don't have time to waste.”
—
Notes on Eirian Clothing:
At Eirian and Aurian weddings, the custom is for the couple to be dressed in matching off-white ašadzasei with simple designs and decorations, while everyone else dresses as elaborately as possible. In fact, some of the only ornamentation on wedding ašadzasei are the colored armbands the couple wears that traditionally represent their parents’ professions.
While halarei are unisex, manufacturers often change specific details to market them towards men or women (such as specific shades or patterns). Even though particular colors aren't indicative of this differentiation, halarei geared towards men are usually made in grayer shades of said colors compared to the rich coloring of women’s halarei.
Glossary of Eirian and Aurian Clothing Terms:
Halar: A robe that represents the core national costumes of Eiria and Auria, consisting of a unisex one-piece robe that traditionally extends to just above the ankle and is tied with a sash. Plural: Halarei.
Ašadza: A variant of halarei that includes a hood and cape. Frequently used in weddings, funerals, or for religious ceremonies. Plural: Ašadzasei
Matja: A lightweight cape, usually embroidered with patterns or other detailing. Plural: Matjasei.
Jost: A type of sash or belt that keeps halarei secured and closed. Plural: Jostei.
Plečjost: A type of jost that secures the halar via loops on the outfit's lining and on the wearer’s shoulder. Less common, but usually seen in formal military dress uniforms or other significant events. Plural: Plečjostei.
Vidukjost: A common type of jost that the wearer ties around their waste. Commonly dyed in an accent color and patterned or embroidered. Plural: Vidukjostei.
Kathryn Andrei sat at her workbench, carefully sewing strips of decorative spare strips of cloth (in Eirian, leis rešerei) to the sleeve of a deep red halar with a strong silver thread. The daytime sunshine poured through her shop’s front window, highlighting the handmade traditional Eirian garments, both simple and intricate, that lined every square foot of the store. Robes, matja capes, ašadza hooded robes, and a variety of multicolored and patterned sashes hung from racks, a veritable rainbow of Eirian culture lined up for sale.
A pair of nondescript black vehicles pulled up outside the front of her small store, causing Andrei to bolt upright. Angels guide me, they're here. She carefully placed down her current project on the table and bolted to the door, opening it as four uniformed agents came in and acknowledged her with a bow.
After peeking around her shop and ensuring no one was hiding beneath the various racks of clothing, the agents retreated, clearing the way for Eiria's Chancellor and Prōviri, with their niece Amalija in tow.
“You know, you really didn't have to do this, tanta,” the younger woman said sheepishly as she looked around at the beautiful outfits on display. “This on top of the ceremony at the Manor will simply be too much.”
“Nonsense. It's your wedding. I want both you and us to look the part!” Chancellor Stendē smiled and walked over to the store’s owner, greeting her with a bow. “Madame Andrei. Always a pleasure.”
“The pleasure is mine, kurena.” The seamstress returned the bow, before making a gesture toward the back of her shop. “For your lovely niece, I brought out a variety of wedding ašadzasei over here.”
She then turned to Amalija. “Does your fiancé have one picked out already, or do we need to find a matching set?”
The younger woman shook her head. “A matching set would be great, if possible.”
“That's more than alright. Come along, dear.” The experienced craftswoman guided Amalija past rows of robes as her aunt and uncle browsed.
“We'll keep looking for our outfits while you two discuss what you want!” Stendē called out before turning to her husband. “So… what outfit do you think would be appropriate for a wedding at the Manor?”
Peter Kalev, the tall, bald labor lawyer who Stendē had met in a mock trial competition more than thirty years prior, shrugged his shoulders. “Not sure. Has there been a wedding at the Manor in a while?”
“Not since Badolis’s son in the 90s, I think.” The Chancellor pulled a purple and white halar from the rack and held it up to her shoulders, checking its length. “How would this look?”
Kalev considered the outfit before shaking his head slightly. “Very Aurian, isn't it?”
She sighed and put the robe back. “I guess.” She glanced over a row of more ornate robes, pursing her lips. “I know I'm going to get dirty looks from a whole bunch of designers who would want to dress us for the ceremony, but at the same time… it's just so much easier this way. Plus, Andrei has been doing this for thirty years, and supporting small businesses is always a plus.”
“Indeed.” Kalev perked up and pulled out a forest green halar, before making an expression of disappointment at the sight of a plečjost shoulder sash. “Why in the name of Irina Pečs did these become popular? I always felt like I was being hugged to death whenever I wore one properly. And if I tied it loose, I'd risk flashing everyone.”
“Wouldn't that be a story for the ages? ‘Prōviri Exposes Himself at Niece’s Wedding.’ Though, in that sense, they'd make good nighttime wear,” Stendē said with a glint of humor in her eye. “I think I may wear my mother's topaz broach, so perhaps going classic blue and red may be the best choice.”
Kalev nodded. “It would be historically appropriate, if you don't mind being a bit cliche.”
“You say cliche, I say classic. Some traditions are everlasting.” Stendē pulled out a long blue halar with deep red piping. “There we go. This should work perfectly. What do you think?” She asked, displaying her selection.
The Prōviri considered the garment, comparing it to his wife's complexion. “I like it. Will the reflectivity play well on camera, though?”
“I don't see why not.” The Chancellor tucked the outfit under her shoulder, turning around to look towards the back of the shop while tapping her heel on the ground. “I wonder what's taking them so long.”
“Dear, it is her wedding ašadza,” said Kalev with humor in his voice. “It’s not exactly an easy selection to make.”
“Then we should go back to help her!”
Just as Stendē started to stride towards where her niece had gone, her husband lightly grabbed her arm.
“She'll ask for help if she needs it, my love. Please, let her do this on her own,” Kalev requested with a sympathetic stare.
While Stendē didn't pull away from his touch, her gaze did sharpen. “We still should be there to support her.”
“Leah, you have been closely involved with every aspect of this wedding, from the venue to the menu.” The Prōviri held his wife’s hand. “Amalija’s an intelligent young woman. If she needs more support, she'll ask for it.”
“Still, we have a responsibility to help her out whenever she needs it!” She replied in protest.
“Because Article Three, Section Six of the Constitution gives you responsibility for weddings now?”
The Chancellor sighed with an exhausted chuckle. “Point taken. I just… I want to get this right. Ever since Lara and Mark died… I just want to be someone the girls can rely on. I want them to know they still have someone to rely on.”
“That's completely understandable. And you have been the best aunt they could ever ask for, my starlight.” Kalev pulled his wife into a loose embrace, resting his head on her shoulder. “But you don't need to do everything for them. You have to let them grow and move on on their own.”
“I know, I know. And thank you, dear.” Stendē gave her husband an appreciative squeeze before disentangling herself from his grasp. “But the next time you try to appropriate the Constitution into our arguments, I'm applying my seal to your head.”
The Prōviri chuckled, running his hand over his hairless skull. “Just as well. Could use a bit of a waxing anyways.”
As the pair continued to browse the racks, the shopkeep and Amalija came to meet them, carrying a simple off-white halar with some subtle patterns and a long matching cape.
“This one was the one that called out to me the most,” their niece said, showing off the different elements of the design. “What do you two think?”
Stendē smiled widely. “It's absolutely beautiful! And so long as you and Kal like it, it's perfect.”
“I agree with what she said,” Kalev said with a thumbs up. “You're going to look stunning, Ama.”
“Aw, thank you, Onkls.” Amalija turned back to Madame Andrei with a wide grin. “Can we go look at what adjustments we can make for my fiancé?”
“Of course, follow me.” The skilled seamstress gestured for her to follow her over to the workbench, leaving the Chancellor and Proviri alone once again.
“So… shall we find you something to wear?” Stendē asked, flipping through the slightly grayer shades of halarei geared towards men.
“I don't know, it's pretty hard to find something to fit someone this tall and handsome,” Kalev said with a wink.
She laughed wholeheartedly. “Exactly, my love. Come on, we don't have time to waste.”
—
Notes on Eirian Clothing:
At Eirian and Aurian weddings, the custom is for the couple to be dressed in matching off-white ašadzasei with simple designs and decorations, while everyone else dresses as elaborately as possible. In fact, some of the only ornamentation on wedding ašadzasei are the colored armbands the couple wears that traditionally represent their parents’ professions.
While halarei are unisex, manufacturers often change specific details to market them towards men or women (such as specific shades or patterns). Even though particular colors aren't indicative of this differentiation, halarei geared towards men are usually made in grayer shades of said colors compared to the rich coloring of women’s halarei.
Glossary of Eirian and Aurian Clothing Terms:
Halar: A robe that represents the core national costumes of Eiria and Auria, consisting of a unisex one-piece robe that traditionally extends to just above the ankle and is tied with a sash. Plural: Halarei.
Ašadza: A variant of halarei that includes a hood and cape. Frequently used in weddings, funerals, or for religious ceremonies. Plural: Ašadzasei
Matja: A lightweight cape, usually embroidered with patterns or other detailing. Plural: Matjasei.
Jost: A type of sash or belt that keeps halarei secured and closed. Plural: Jostei.
Plečjost: A type of jost that secures the halar via loops on the outfit's lining and on the wearer’s shoulder. Less common, but usually seen in formal military dress uniforms or other significant events. Plural: Plečjostei.
Vidukjost: A common type of jost that the wearer ties around their waste. Commonly dyed in an accent color and patterned or embroidered. Plural: Vidukjostei.
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