Morning sunlight spilled into the workshop like warm syrup, landing directly on Ace's whiskers.
He stretched, flicked his tail, and prepared for another chaotic day of magical upcycling.
Ravenna was already awake—loudly awake.
"ACE! ACE! WAKE UP! TODAY'S CLIENT IS WEIRD!" she screeched from atop a clothing rack.
Ace groaned. "Ravenna… all our clients are weird."
"No no no," she flapped her wings dramatically. "This one is DIFFERENT-weird. Beyond weird. Ascended-weird."
That… didn't sound good.
Before Ace could ask more, the doorbell jingled softly.
Not explosively, not aggressively, not like an adventurer crashing through the door yelling "PLEASE FIX THIS OR I DIE."
It was a gentle chime.
A small figure stepped inside.
It was a young man, maybe nineteen, with shy eyes and a simple brown robe.
He looked normal.
Suspiciously normal.
Ace narrowed his eyes. Nobody who walks into this shop is normal.
"Hello…" the young man said softly. "Are you the… magical upcycler?"
Ace hopped onto the counter with professional flair. "Yes. What do you need upcycled?"
The young man clasped his hands together timidly.
"…Nothing."
Ace blinked.
Ravenna blinked.
Even Biscuit, who was half-asleep in a pile of thread, raised one hamster eyebrow.
Ace tried again. "What do you want us to make?"
The young man hesitated, fidgeted, then whispered:
"…Nothing."
Ravenna leaned over Ace's shoulder and hissed, "This boy is possessed."
Ace cleared his throat. "Sir. This is a shop. People come here with broken equipment, cursed garments, weird requests. You must want something."
The young man looked distressed.
"I-I don't know what I need. But everyone in the village says your shop knows what people need even before they do."
Ace froze.
Ravenna froze.
Biscuit fell off the table.
"WHO SAID THAT?!" Ace yowled, scandalized.
The young man continued, oblivious.
"So… I've come to ask…"
He bowed deeply.
"Can you design something… based on my soul?"
Ace's left eye twitched.
Ravenna whispered, "He wants a soul project, Ace. That's like the highest difficulty. That's like… boss raid difficulty."
Ace sighed. "Fine. We'll examine your… soul. Sit."
The young man sat nervously.
Ace placed his paw gently on the client's chest.
Ravenna closed the curtains.
Biscuit lit a ceremonial candle that smelled like burnt cinnamon.
The room fell silent.
Then—
Ace's paw began to glow.
The vision hit him instantly.
A swirling void of colour.
A soft voice humming.
A peculiar aura—
gentle, warm, quiet…
And absolutely, undeniably…
BLANK.
Ace opened his eyes slowly.
Ravenna whispered, "Well? What did you see? Flames? Darkness? Tragedy? A warrior spirit?"
Ace inhaled, exhaled, and spoke solemnly.
"…His soul is empty."
The young man gasped.
Ravenna shrieked.
Biscuit fainted dramatically.
"No no no!" the young man cried. "Am I cursed?!"
Ace lifted a calming paw. "You're not cursed."
He stared directly into the client's eyes.
"You, my friend… lack hobbies."
The room fell silent again.
Ravenna mouthed, "hobbies…?"
Ace nodded with ancient feline wisdom.
"Your soul isn't empty. It's peaceful. Too peaceful. You live a life with no adventure, no passion, no dream. You don't need clothes—"
He tapped the table dramatically.
"—you need identity."
The young man trembled. "I… I do want to be something. But I never knew what."
Ace nodded.
This was deeper than fashion.
This was spiritual tailoring.
"Don't worry," Ace said. "We'll create something that will guide you. A piece that helps you discover your path."
Ravenna flapped. "Oooooh, a destiny item!"
Biscuit scribbled notes eagerly.
Ace leapt to the crafting table.
Threads flew.
Magic swirled.
The workshop hummed with power.
Then, gently, Ace placed the finished item into the young man's hands.
A simple, soft scarf—
white, warm, weightless—
woven with threads of quiet magic.
"What… does it do?" the young man whispered.
Ace smiled.
"It reacts when you find something that sparks your heart.
When you feel passion, excitement, purpose…
It changes colour."
Ravenna nodded. "It's like mood ring but for life decisions."
The young man held the scarf to his chest, trembling.
"T-Thank you… I've never received something so meaningful…"
Ace waved a paw dismissively. "Go. Try new things. Come back when the scarf changes."
The young man bowed deeply and left with a shy smile.
The workshop fell quiet.
Ravenna finally spoke.
"…Ace."
"Yeah?"
"That… might have been the most wholesome thing we've ever done."
Ace smirked. "Even magical fashion has heart."
Biscuit wiped his glasses. "Ace… you might be a cat, but you're a wise one."
Ace stretched smugly.
"Of course. I am the manager."