“La Dame du La Lac,” Chrétien replied to Akiko reverently before she dashed off to inspect the rooms for their occupants. “It was her voice that called me to serve her — to serve a higher calling. If it be madness to accept, so be it.”

As his two friends depart to inspect the other floors, Chrétien drew a chair over to the window in the hopes of getting a better view of what was happening at the street level. “Where are you sensing these movements, Yoshiro, are they in the building or outside? Knowing where others are will be helpful — although it is not spoken of the the older storied my mother studies. Oh — and see if you can tell the difference between out two volunteer scouts and the others as they inspect the higher floors.”

Chrétien was glad the leather of his pants was supple enough to not hinder him stepping onto the seat of the chair. Something thicker would be better armor, of course, but it would…

Chrétien stopped and looked down at himself.

His pants were leather, dyed almost to an olive color that perfectly matched a snug fitting, multi-buttoned waistcoat. The sleeveless blue jacket was a royal blue with a military cut. His boots, were a polished brown but a quick shifting of his feet confirmed a modern sole — one that would keep him from losing his footing should he draw his rapier in anger. His sword belt lay over a red sash that both felt separate from and a part of the rest of the ensemble.

His hand reached up and felt the cravat at his neck.

He drew out his cell phone to get a view of the thing.

He didn’t even know how to tie a cravat. Where had this thing come from?

At least it was not lacy in style, he assured himself — much more d'Artagnan than Louis Quatorze.

Not that he was sure either wore such a thing.

He glanced at the others in the room, surveying their mode of dress to ascertain if they, too, had changed. The look felt so natural to him — in the way sheathing the rapier had been second nature — that it only now occurred to him that he was no longer in his school uniform. What of the others? Had they changed, too, and their own comfort make it seem tres normal?