Read the following passage and questions, then choose the right answer from options, the answer should be one of A, B, C, D.

<passage>:
the blackness of space to save a nation from ruthless invaders. He was Yandro, the Stranger of the Prophecy—and he found that he was destined to fight both sides. And at once there was an answer: " You lie upon the world Dondromogon. " I knew the language of that answer, but where it came from—above, The voice had a note of triumph. "You do not know that. It is as well, for this will be a birth and beginning of your destined leadership on Dondromogon." "Destined—leadership—" I began to repeat, and fell silent. I had need to think. The voice was telling me that I had been snatched from Dondromogon might be. "Birth and beginning—destined leadership—" Fantastic! And yet, for all I could say to the contrary, unvarnishedly true. "Dondromogon?" I mumbled. "The name is strange to me." "It is a world the size of your native one," came words of information. "Around a star it spins, light-years away from the world of your birth. One face of Dondromogon ever looks to the light and heat, wherefore its metals run in glowing seas. The other face is ever away in cold darkness, with its air freezing into solid chunks. But because Dondromogon wavers on its axis, there are two lunes of its surface which from time to time shift from night to day. These are habitable." My eyes were tight shut against the dust, but they saw in imagination unceasing, bitter, with no quarter asked, given or expected. Dondromogon was found and settled long ago, by adventurers from afar. Now come invaders, to reap the benefits of discovery and toil." A pause. "You find that thought unpleasant? You wish to right that called Dondromogon, what manner of intelligent life bade defiance to heat and cold and storm, and built these stout structures, and now laid clad in metal-faced garments and wearing weapons in their girdles. I shelter." had first spoken. Then, to his comrade: "No reward, then." its scabbard. "If he's dead, we get pay for both warning and capture—" "They lie," I broke in, very conscious of my naked helplessness before "Then manage to do so." She flung off her cloak and draped it over my nakedness. "Walk along beside me. No tricks, and I promise you fair "Stranger," he said to me, "can you think of no better tale to tell "I tell the truth," was my reply, not very gracious. "You will have to prove that," he admonished me. "What proof have I?" I demanded. "On this world of yours—Dondromogon, bearded fellow in a voluminous robe that enfolded him in most dignified gold-bound book that is third from the right." Then he turned back, and bowed toward me. "Surely you are Yandro, the Conquering Stranger," he said, intoning as if in formal prayer. "Pardon these short-sighted come equipped with all plausible knowledge. As it is—" "As it is, he may remember that the Conquering Stranger is foretold "I still say you will understand my caution," he addressed me, with real respect and shyness this time. "If you are Yandro himself, you can prove it. The prophecy even sketches a thumb-print—" And he held the book toward me. It contained a full-page likeness, in color, of myself wrapped in a scarlet robe. Under this was considerable printed description, and to Doriza shook her head. "That happens to be my cloak. I gave it to him because he was naked, and not for any treasonable masquerade. But the bustled to me. From under his robe he produced a pouch, and took out a "Get up," I bade them. "I want to hear why I was first bound, and now "The Newcomers," supplemented Doriza. "They have taken the "Other Side" of Dondromogon, and would take our side as well. We defend ourselves at the poles. Now," and her voice rang joyously, "you will lead us to defeat and crush them utterly!" "Follow me, deign to follow me," Sporr said. "Your clothing, your "Our cities are below ground," he quavered. "Whipped by winds above, transmute into food, to weave into clothing, to weld into tools and "Behold!" he said, with a dramatic gesture. "Your garments, even as locker or cupboard, with a glass door through which showed the garments the door. The garments inside were old, I could see, but well kept and There was a kiltlike item, belted at the waist and falling to mid-thigh. A resilient band at the top, with a series of belt-holes, garment, a long strip of soft, close-woven fabric that spiralled neck. The only fitted articles were a pair of shoes, metal-soled and the neck, a belt-bag, and a handsome sword, with clips to fasten them I took the military cloak which Doriza had lent me and slung it over my "It is indeed Yandro, our great chief," he mumbled. Then he turned and crossed the room. A sort of mouthpiece sprouted from the wall. "I announce," he intoned into it. "I announce, I, Sporr, the reader and fore-teller of wisdom. Yandro is with us, he awaits his partners and friends. Let them meet him in the audience hall." "I serve Yandro," she vowed tremulously. "Now and forever—and happy that I was fated to live when he returned for the rescue of all Dondromogon." "Please get up," I bade her, trying not to sound as embarrassed as I felt. "Come with me. There is still much that I do not understand." mixture of awe and brightness. "It is necessary that we live like this," she explained. "The hot air of Dondromogon's sunlit face is ever rising, and the cold air from the dark side comes rushing under to fill the vacuum. Naturally, our strip of twilight country is never free of winds too high and fierce to I looked at my garments, and hers. There were various kinds of fabric, Doriza had no answer that time, but Sporr spoke up behind us: "Great Yandro is wise as well as powerful. But the Newcomers do not want to help, not even to conquer. They want to obliterate us. There is nothing to do—not for lifetimes—but to fight them back at the two poles." were all men but two, and wore robes of black, plum-purple or red. At like some sort of a rodent. They all wore jewelry. Too much jewelry. " Yandro! " They all spoke the name in chorus, and bowed toward me. infant. I hear wonderful things, of which I seem to be the center. Are they true?" "The tenth part of the wonders which concern mighty Yandro have not been told," intoned Sporr, ducking his bearded head in a bow, but fixing me with his wise old eyes. the dignified folds of his purple robe. One carefully-tended hand will speak simply. Our hopes have been raised by Yandro's return—the return presaged of old by those who could see the future, and more "You honor me," I told him. "Yet I still know little. It seems that I am expected to aid and lead and save the people of this world called Dondromogon. But I must know them before I can help." Gederr turned his eyes upon the woman with the red hair, and gestured to her "Tell him, Elonie." Then he faced me. "Have we Yandro's

<question>:
What is the meaning of the garments given to the narrator?

<options>:
A It shows the reader that Yandro is preparing to fight Barak.
B It shows the reader that the narrator is going to play the part of Yandro, but not believe in it.
C It shows the reader that the narrator is becoming Yandro.
D It shows the reader that all Dondromogon prophecies are true.

<answer>:

C