dragon, as Areli approached him with Kaia’s halter on.
“So, you’re the rider, huh,” said the man. Areli responded with only a slender smile.
“Well, when’s the last time you had your tack replaced?” Areli’s face turned pink as she looked down at the floor.
“That long huh,” said the saddlemaker with a chuckle, “so it’s true what they say then . . . Sector D, is laxed.” Areli stared hard into this man. She already didn’t like him. And he was wrong. Sector D wasn’t lax at all. It was a sector lying in ruin and flames, with death and misery rotting its center and its borders. But she kept these words from him – the last thing she wanted was a faulty saddle.
“Anyway,” said the man, “let us begin.” With a nod of his head, a servant went to place a ladder next to her dragon. “I’m going to need you to keep your dragon still, rider.” He grabbed a roll of measuring tape and climbed to the very top of the ladder that four servants had to steady. The end of the measurer was weighted and he let it fall to the ground gently, minding the marble.
“Fifty-one hands,” yelled the saddlemaker to a woman below, who jotted the number down on a chart. The man climbed down from the ladder and prompted the servants to bring him the scaler, which looked very much like a four poster bed. The posts of the scaler reached towards the top of the ceiling, but instead of a bed in the center, there was a wooden box with a door.
The scaler was wheeled next to Kaia’s side, and then lowered so the posts were placed firmly on the floor. The posts that weren’t facing towards her dragon were weighted with thick stone blocks. The saddle maker entered into the door and servants cranked the large steel handle on the side, lifting the man and the box higher, making clanking noises as he rose.
The man yelled when he was just above Kaia’s back and reminded Areli to keep her dragon steady. He wheeled out a plank that came to life beneath the box, continuing to push it out until it was at a distance at which he could walk out and be suspended above Kaia’s back.
He attached a leather vest around his chest with a thick cord to catch him in case he fell, and then he stepped out onto the fine oak plank and walked so he was just above Kaia’s back. With his measurer, he grabbed the proper increments for the tree of the saddle, which would serve as the base for everything else involved in creating it.
He shouted the measurements to the woman, and then climbed back into the box and retracted the plank before he was brought back to the ground.
“Now, rider,” said the saddlemaker, “the only other measurements we need are yours.” He grabbed a different ruler that measured in inches and measured Areli’s height, waist, hips, and inseam, relaying them to the woman holding the chart.
“Very well, rider,” said the man, “your saddle will be done in the next couple of days. I’ll be there when it’s ready, to make sure there is no slippage.”
Areli thanked the saddlemaker and waited for him to disappear. He was promptly replaced by the bridle maker and then the bit maker. The bridle maker was a woman with long dark grey hair with a streak of wispy white traveling on a few strands that stretched down to her hips. She worked quickly, grabbing measurements of Kaia’s neck, as well as distances from mouth to chest and shoulders. Like the saddlemaker, she also had a woman assistant who wrote down everything she said. When she came back from the ladders she used to get the measurements, she unfurled charts and started on the sketches based on Kaia’s dimensions, visually putting the right amount of slack that should be available to Areli during any given command.
When the bit maker arrived, he quickly got a mold of Kaia’s teeth and talked in-depth with Areli about her dragon’s bit history – what types she had used, what style she was using now, and which ones Kaia was most comfortable with. The man got
“So, you’re the rider, huh,” said the man. Areli responded with only a slender smile.
“Well, when’s the last time you had your tack replaced?” Areli’s face turned pink as she looked down at the floor.
“That long huh,” said the saddlemaker with a chuckle, “so it’s true what they say then . . . Sector D, is laxed.” Areli stared hard into this man. She already didn’t like him. And he was wrong. Sector D wasn’t lax at all. It was a sector lying in ruin and flames, with death and misery rotting its center and its borders. But she kept these words from him – the last thing she wanted was a faulty saddle.
“Anyway,” said the man, “let us begin.” With a nod of his head, a servant went to place a ladder next to her dragon. “I’m going to need you to keep your dragon still, rider.” He grabbed a roll of measuring tape and climbed to the very top of the ladder that four servants had to steady. The end of the measurer was weighted and he let it fall to the ground gently, minding the marble.
“Fifty-one hands,” yelled the saddlemaker to a woman below, who jotted the number down on a chart. The man climbed down from the ladder and prompted the servants to bring him the scaler, which looked very much like a four poster bed. The posts of the scaler reached towards the top of the ceiling, but instead of a bed in the center, there was a wooden box with a door.
The scaler was wheeled next to Kaia’s side, and then lowered so the posts were placed firmly on the floor. The posts that weren’t facing towards her dragon were weighted with thick stone blocks. The saddle maker entered into the door and servants cranked the large steel handle on the side, lifting the man and the box higher, making clanking noises as he rose.
The man yelled when he was just above Kaia’s back and reminded Areli to keep her dragon steady. He wheeled out a plank that came to life beneath the box, continuing to push it out until it was at a distance at which he could walk out and be suspended above Kaia’s back.
He attached a leather vest around his chest with a thick cord to catch him in case he fell, and then he stepped out onto the fine oak plank and walked so he was just above Kaia’s back. With his measurer, he grabbed the proper increments for the tree of the saddle, which would serve as the base for everything else involved in creating it.
He shouted the measurements to the woman, and then climbed back into the box and retracted the plank before he was brought back to the ground.
“Now, rider,” said the saddlemaker, “the only other measurements we need are yours.” He grabbed a different ruler that measured in inches and measured Areli’s height, waist, hips, and inseam, relaying them to the woman holding the chart.
“Very well, rider,” said the man, “your saddle will be done in the next couple of days. I’ll be there when it’s ready, to make sure there is no slippage.”
Areli thanked the saddlemaker and waited for him to disappear. He was promptly replaced by the bridle maker and then the bit maker. The bridle maker was a woman with long dark grey hair with a streak of wispy white traveling on a few strands that stretched down to her hips. She worked quickly, grabbing measurements of Kaia’s neck, as well as distances from mouth to chest and shoulders. Like the saddlemaker, she also had a woman assistant who wrote down everything she said. When she came back from the ladders she used to get the measurements, she unfurled charts and started on the sketches based on Kaia’s dimensions, visually putting the right amount of slack that should be available to Areli during any given command.
When the bit maker arrived, he quickly got a mold of Kaia’s teeth and talked in-depth with Areli about her dragon’s bit history – what types she had used, what style she was using now, and which ones Kaia was most comfortable with. The man got
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