Chapter 8: Masquerade

A/N:

kosya/kosyii - formal honorific for a stranger if their name is not known. kosyii is plural.

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“So...” I purse my lips, trying to understand everything, “Then this is a form of Hallow’s Eve? We are supposed to play a trick or treat of some sort?”

The female kosya nods her head, “Yes, She is eager to see the kind of mask you wear. Though, I suppose, we’ve already seen that haven’t we?”

“Yes,” I adjust my monocle, not approving of this conversation. “Of course.”

“If you do not require anything,” she begins to exit my bunker, “Then, feel free to do as you like. The other contestants are also given time to figure out how they’ll manifest this.”

As soon as the door shuts, I notice a piece of paper on the desk nearby. I blink, confused as to how it got there, and when I open my eyes again, there are now an assortment of crafting objects littering the desk. Scissors, glue, paper mache, a mold cast, fur, feathers...

″...My mask,” I slowly take a seat, resting the side of my head onto my palm. ”...Grom’shiya.”

These kosyii were dubious at best, I did not wish to reveal all of myself to them, but I needed something that encompassed who I was. I furrow my brows in deep thought; the image was there but how could I translate it into the physical realm?

Then, a realization, ”...Ah, yes, it was always there, wasn’t it?”

I start working on the mask, starting the tedious process of layering the making the mask mold of my face and layering the glue and newspaper to form the hard shell. I was grateful for my minor spell practices, as I used a minor flame spell to affix everything together more efficiently than without it.

The shell was finally complete and as I finish coating the shell with black matte paint, I stare at the decorations littered across the desk, Just what embellishments do I choose to best express this image?

I remember the faceless ebb and flow of the kosya who forced me to combat him; constant shifting of shadowy blacks and dark grays to the point it was as if he was featureless yet not. Something about that image drew me in...

"...Yes, I understand it now."

Closing my eyes, I put all of my concentration onto the mask, projecting the image from memory onto it but I choose to change it. Rather than the shadows, I wish for the flowing and oscillating of light. The sun, the heavens, the eyes of man ... all the light of the world, granted by The Arcana to guide. My energy drains, I can feel my strength leaving my body as I finally open my eyes, to see if the spell worked.

What was once a hard paper mache shell painted in black had become something entirely. Though the black base shone through, various tints of warm, welcoming white, gold, pale yellows, pale red, and orange were pulsating throughout the mask. In some instances it the light would shine and ebb so fiercely like it were the sun, in others it would merely glow alight, with symbols of wellness and health etching onto the dark, ebony matte paint. Last to show in the cycle were the various animals and gods representing strength, some I did not recognize, but I could occasionally see the lioness, Strength's, features onto the mask as well.

Delicately, I puncture attachment holes into the mask and after cutting a piece of hemp rope to size, I thread it through and place the mask over my face. Looking into the nearby mirror, the result is a success--it is the upright version of the kosyii's faces. Where one lies in darkness, shadow, unknown, uncertainty, and ambiguity; the mask crafted ebbs and flows with light, the tangible, the known, guidance, and clarity.

"Thank you for your guidance as always," I get on my knees and murmur a thankful prayer, "Thank you, Moon and Priestess, for reminding me what the true center is."

I stand back up, hearing the sound of my bunker door opening; turning around, the female kosya from before approaches me yet again, "I see you're ready, Eridæus."

Perhaps it was just coincidence, but I could have sworn I heard a hiss escape her slightly, "Very interesting mask you chose. She will definitely be pleased. Come with me, the others are waiting. We are hosting a farewell party, your last day here is soon."

I nod, "Then, I will do my diligence to attend."

I then follow close behind her leaving the bunker; whatever happens now, I am well-prepared to face it.