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The Time of the Mask Makers


Pahrak Model ZX

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[An Okoto 579 Story]

 

The First Swing

 

 

CLANG!

 

The villager hefted his hammer, examining the product in the span of a second to determine where to strike next.

 

CLANG!

 

Sparks flew out from where he hit.  They cooled as they showered down on the floor of the round stone hut, their faint glimmer soon being overpowered by the luminous purple crystals hanging from the ceiling.

 

CLANG!

 

He stopped.  The black and purple armored being walked to the window and looked out—dozens of similar huts were built into stalactites hanging from the cliff above them, and many other villagers could be seen bustling about the expanse of gray rock below.  Out beyond the cliff’s shadow was a massive sundial, and upon seeing it was nearly mid-day, the craftsman sighed and pulled back inside.

 

“Well, I’d like more time, but…”

 

He examined the piece upon his workbench.  Though he felt it looked rather crude, this creation’s purpose was to make a point, not to look good.

 

Makuta nodded and set down his hammer.  “This will have to do.”

 

***

 

Cheers drew Makuta’s attention as he travelled down the road.  Squinting against the sunset, he glanced towards the crowd gathering near the stone gates at the edge of the village.  In the middle of the waving mass was the carcass of one of the large armored lions who hunted the region, resting on a cart being drawn by two muscular villagers.  Before the cart were two more villagers, carrying a fifth on their shoulders: one who was short but sturdy with black and blue armor, victoriously beating the air with his fists.  He wore a mask that covered the top of his face, its top edge curling up into a semi-circle crest with its edges rising about a foot above the wearer’s eyes.  The mask was mainly gold, but a portion of its upper edge was tinged with blue, and it was held in place by a single strap that wrapped around the back of the wearer’s head.

 

Makuta turned back to the road.  The masked villager saw him and, after commanding his friends to put him down, pushed through the crowd and strode up to Makuta.

 

“Brother!” he called in a booming, proud voice.  “Aren’t you going to congratulate me on another successful hunt?”

 

“Congratulations, Ekimu,” Makuta replied dismissively.  “It seems you will never grow bored of using your gifts for slaughter.”

 

Ekimu slapped Makuta’s shoulder a little too hard.  “Come now, brother, one of us had to take up father’s legacy.  I’d be happy to take a break if you felt like using that hammer of yours properly.”

 

“Properly?  I am one of the finest craftsmen on the island.  Perhaps you should learn a new use for your hammer, brother.”

 

Ekimu scoffed.  “What, join you at the forge?  Preposterous.  Mother’s lessons never held any appeal for me.”

 

Makuta smiled.  “Perhaps that was because you did not pay attention?”

 

As Ekimu glared at Makuta, he noticed the package in his brother’s hand.  “What have you got there?”

 

Makuta pulled back.  “This is related to my announcement at the forum.  If you want your answer, you’ll just have to come and watch.”

 

“Don’t be like that, brother!”

 

Ekimu tried to grab the package.  Makuta pushed him away, but Ekimu continued to reach for it.

 

“Ahem!”

 

The two brothers turned to see a villager in all black armor, tall enough to look down upon them.  They instantly stepped apart and bowed.

 

“Ekimu.  Makuta.  Squabbling again, I see.”

 

“My apologies, Protector,” Makuta said.  “I was merely on my way to the forum.”

 

“And I, having just returned from my latest hunt, was simply hoping to satisfy my curiosity,” Ekimu said.  “As apology for this ruckus, I wish to turn my bounty into your possession.”

 

He gestured back towards the lion.  The Protector looked at it for a moment, and then looked back to him.

 

“You may keep your prize, and I ask that you also keep your patience.  Makuta has already decided when to unveil his latest creation, so you must honor his wishes.”

 

“…Yes, Protector.”

 

Ekimu returned to his friends, and Makuta and the Protector headed in the other direction.  As they walked, the Protector said, “He may be quite the hunter, but your brother can be a bit of a nuisance when he wishes.”

 

“Please forgive him, Protector—he worries that he is not seen as a true member of our village.  I suggested that perhaps he stay with father’s family in the Region of Water, but he insists that this is his home.  Hunting is a way for him to feel both connected to our father and useful to the Village of Earth, and his annoying behavior is…”

 

Makuta trailed off, searching for the right words.  They proved very elusive.

 

“Well, he means no harm, I assure you.”

 

The Protector smiled.  “You have a good heart, Makuta.  I hope that one day you rub off on Ekimu.”

 

“Thank you, Protector.”

 

They walked to the top of the cliff that sheltered the main part of the village.  From there, the many cliffs of the Region of Earth could be seen, stretching from the ever-moving ocean on one horizon to the mountainous crags that set the inland borders of the region.  The meeting place was a simple collection of stone benches arranged to view a large stage near the cliff’s edge, purple crystals lining the seats for light and two larger deposits on either side of the stage.  Makuta and the Protector sat on a bench beside the stage and waited as others slowly gathered and the night gradually fell.

 

When the benches were nearly full, the Protector stood up and walked onto the stage.  Instantly the murmuring crowd fell silent.  The Protector surveyed them, cleared her throat, and smiled.

 

“Welcome to the monthly forum,” she said.  “As always, I am eager to hear what you all have to say about how we can better our village.  But before that, our blacksmith, Makuta, would like to say a few words on his newest work.  Makuta?”

 

The Protector moved off to the side of the stage.  Taking a deep breath, Makuta walked on-stage and faced the crowd.

 

“Thank you, Protector.  Good evening, everyone!  I will attempt to be as brief as possible.  As you know, my brother Ekimu and I—“

 

A few villagers in the back broke out in cheers, almost definitely Ekimu and his friends.  Caught off-guard for a moment, Makuta shrugged off the interruption and continued.

 

“Ekimu and I were taught by our father the ways of a secret art from the Region of Water, one that allows us to draw in energy and use it to enhance our own abilities.  Its results are difficult to argue with, as is shown clearly by Ekimu’s many feats of sportsmanship.”

 

Another outburst of cheering.

 

“Though I may not use this skill in my everyday life, I do find it quite useful in emergencies.  It is this skill that allowed me to deal with the giant worm that broke through our gates three months ago.  After that event, I found myself wondering what would have happened if I had not been there—surely, there would have been much more destruction, and perhaps even several deaths.  I know that my brother and I cannot always be where trouble strikes.  So, while I am forbidden to teach our art, I sought a way to distribute the power of my father, a way for anyone to harness additional energy to grow stronger when they need it most.”

 

He began to unwrap his creation.

 

“The answer, I found, was simple.  I only needed to combine my father’s gift of power with my mother’s gift of smithing.  First, the energy would be gathered, and then, it would be stored within an object one can carry on their person, allowing it to be tapped into at any time.  And that is what led me to create this…”

 

He dropped the cloth wrapping and held the work over his head.  It was a mask, one made of a gleaming purple metal, its edges rounded and its surface smooth.  The only features it bore were its two rectangular eyeholes.

 

“A Mask of Power!”

 

The crowd remained silent.  Ekimu soon stood up, shouting, “What, that simple trinket is supposed to grant power?  I don’t even see a way to wear it!”

 

Lowering the mask, Makuta answered, “Yes, well, that’s actually rather interesting.  Most of you have heard of Skull Spiders?  They are a rarely seen creature with the ability to bind to another being’s face and take control of their body.  At first glance, it appears the creatures latch on with their legs, but upon closer examination, the body of a Skull Spider actually possesses a special binding power that holds it to the face of its host—the legs are merely an aid in the process.  Through trial and error, I was able to replicate this natural binding power in the metal I used to create this mask.  Here, watch.”

 

Makuta pressed the mask against his face.  When he removed his hands, the mask remained stuck to him, causing a murmur of amazement to ripple through the crowd.  He removed the mask after a few seconds, revealing a broad smile.

 

Ekimu waved his hand and shrugged.  “So you invented a metal that clings.  How do you intend to prove that it can make one stronger?”

 

“Actually, I was hoping you might help me with that, brother.”

 

Ekimu raised an eyebrow.

 

“Send up one of your fellow hunters.  I shall select another villager to wear my mask, and the two shall have a competition of strength.”

 

With a grin, Ekimu turned to the villager at his right.  “Go on, then.”

 

The hunter, a tall villager with massive arms, plodded towards the stage, while Makuta beckoned towards a thin villager about half his size.  When the small villager came on-stage, Makuta placed the Mask of Power on their face and then stepped out of the way.

 

The two villagers faced each other and clasped hands.  Both began to push against the other, and at first neither budged an each.  Before long, however, the hunter found himself losing ground.  Bewildered, he tightened his grip and pushed harder.  The smaller villager did the same, and continued to push the hunter’s arm back even further.  Soon enough, the hunter let go, and he stepped back awkwardly as the crowd applauded.  Ekimu watched wide-eyed.

 

Makuta thanked the two, reclaimed the mask, and sent them back to their seats.  Facing the assembly again, he said, “Hopefully this demonstration has shown the merit of the Masks of Power.  With the village’s support, I would like to forge more of them, enough that every villager may have their own Mask of Power so that we may all be better prepared for the unexpected.  It will take time, and I do hope to implement a few different designs, but…”

 

The Protector stepped forward.  “Thank you, Makuta.  It does indeed seem you have created something revolutionary here.”

 

She turned to the crowd and raised her arms.  “Well?  Let us hear what you think of Makuta’s Mask of Power!”

 

The entire crowd burst into celebratory noise.  Villagers jumped and waved, chanting Makuta’s name in delight.  In the back, Ekimu crossed his arms and glared at his brother.

 

“I will never wear one of your masks.”

 

 

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The Second Swing

 

 

Makuta lifted the mask, looking at it with fierce determination.  It was made of solid gold, and crafted in the same shape as the body of a Skull Spider.  Behind him stood the Protector, wearing a black Mask of Power that was flat at the chin but rose into an oval shape around the head, with two long, slanted eyeholes that connected with a bridge at their lowest points.  She shook her head.

 

“I still think this is a terrible idea.”

 

“I have to try,” Makuta said, walking away from his workbench.  “It’s been a week now.  We don’t even know if he’s…”

 

His eyes wandered over to the wall.  There sat Ekimu’s mask—the one forged by their mother, worn by their father, and then passed on to him.  It had been found abandoned in the wastelands.

 

The Protector stepped forward, putting a hand on the spider-shaped mask.  “We also cannot be certain that a Skull Spider is what’s behind this.”

 

“No other creature would knock off his mask.  It has to be a Skull Spider, and with this, I should be able to find and free him.”

 

The Protector cringed at the word “should.”

 

“Makuta…you possess great power, but this is something even you have never tried before.  Do you truly believe this mask will allow you to see into the minds of the Skull Spiders?”

 

Makuta nodded.  “I do.  Instilling abilities rather than just power was challenging to figure out, but I have the hang of it now.  The gold is a much better receptacle for that kind of energy.”

 

“Even if it does work, what do you think will happen to you?  Can you handle opening your mind in such a way?”

 

“I will do whatever I must.”

 

The Protector sighed.  “…So stubborn.  Very well, I don’t imagine I can stop you.  But, should I see you struggling, I’m tearing that mask from your face.”

 

Makuta grinned wearily.  “Thank you, Protector.”

 

He lifted the mask once more and took a deep breath.  Closing his eyes, he slowly brought it to his face, and then reached out to the power sealed within it.

 

The world changed in an instant.  A million minds brushed against his own—similar, yet somehow so very different in form.  Images filled his mind: deserted wastelands, calm seas, vibrating jungles, and so, so much more.  Feelings, smells, sounds, they assaulted him from every direction, threatening to overwhelm him.  He very easily could have become lost in the chaos, but he managed to hold on, focusing on one single thought.

 

Where is Ekimu?

 

The chaos gradually quieted down.  Makuta could feel himself being drawn to a particular point in the noise, one mind in the sea of many that would hold the answer he sought.  He saw the wastelands, black and blue limbs waving in and out from just below his field of vision.  A feeling of contentedness, of victory…and, just behind that, another feeling.  The feeling of yet another mind crying out for help.

 

Ekimu!

 

He focused all his might upon the mind in his grasp, steadily taking control of it and coaxing it towards the idea of letting its hostage go.  It seemed to be working—

 

Burning.  Every thought seared away in the face of a pillar of black flame.  Two red eyes leered out at him, watching without a shred of pity as he melted away into the pain.

 

And then he was back in his forge, kneeling, with the Protector holding the spider mask in her hands.

 

“Makuta?” she shouted.  “Makuta!”

 

Makuta’s head jerked.  “I…I’m fine…”

 

He took a moment to process what had just happened.  As he recovered, a grin spread across his face.

 

“Ekimu is alive.  He’s in the canyon used to get to the Temple of Time.”

 

The Protector’s eyes widened.  “…Were you able to…?”

 

“…No.  Something about the Skull Spider controlling him is different.  I’m not sure exactly, but it felt like there was a force within it that was able to block out my telepathic link.”

 

Gazing at the mask, the Protector mumbled, “What could that mean…?”

 

Makuta staggered to his feet.  “I don’t know.  But…I know that there is still time to save Ekimu.  And if I am to succeed, I am going to need an even stronger mask.”

 

***

 

Makuta walked quickly through the canyon, carrying his hammer on his back.  On his face he wore another Mask of Power made of gold, this one with a narrow face and a broad brow.  Fanning out to either side of his face was a segmented sheet of gold, giving the mask a menacing, snake-like appearance.

 

He stopped in the middle of the canyon and drew his hammer.  “Ekimu!”

 

Near one of the high walls of black stone was a line of smaller rocks, and from behind them could be heard a low groaning.  Out stepped Ekimu, a blue Skull Spider clamped onto his face, his hammer dragging behind him as he stalked towards Makuta.

 

Ekimu’s body spasmed.  “M…Makuta…”

 

Lurching again, he said, “You…you have to…stop me…!”

 

Makuta nodded.  “Don’t worry, brother!  I’m going to save you!”

 

Ekimu suddenly grabbed his hammer in both hands and rushed forward.  He swung, but Makuta blocked, locking their weapons together and holding his ground.

 

“No…if you don’t kill me…I might…”

 

“I’m not going to kill you, Ekimu!”

 

“You have to!  I…urgh…”

 

Ekimu jumped back, and then advanced again, rapidly thrusting his hammer towards Makuta.  Makuta carefully sidestepped each attack, moving a small distance back each time.  He took one step forward with no warning, sending his hammer directly into Ekimu’s midsection and sending him flying.  Ekimu landed hard.

 

Makuta held one hand forward, palm open.  “Now, Skull Spider!  I command you to release your host!”

 

Power flowed from the mask into Makuta, and then out towards the spider.  It wriggled, feeling a strange compulsion begin to overtake it.  The feeling grew and grew, and, hoping to put the urge to rest, it began to unfold its legs.

 

Then it shrieked.  Its legs clamped back on, and Ekimu slowly got to his feet.

 

“What?” Makuta said.  “No, it shouldn’t be able to resist my Mask of Control…unless…”

 

He remembered his first attempt.  If that mysterious force could interfere with the Mask of Skull Spiders, then perhaps it had the power to interfere with the Mask of Control as well.

 

“…I’ll just have to keep trying,” Makuta determined.  “I refuse to abandon you, brother!”

 

Ekimu was moving forward again.  Makuta called upon his knowledge of the mystic and reached out with his mind, feeling the energy that filled the world around him, and then drew it in.  New strength filled his body, and his eyes flared with bright light.

 

“Forgive me, Ekimu!”

 

In a blur, Makuta bounded forward and swung his hammer, smashing Ekimu into the canyon wall.  He made a quick grab for the Skull Spider and tried to pry it off.  It was stuck fast.

 

“Ekimu!  If you can hear me, you need to break its legs!”

 

Ekimu’s hand flinched.  He reached up slowly, fingers trembling, and then slowly took hold of one of the Skull Spider’s legs.  He crushed it, and the spider shrieked.

 

Good!

 

Ekimu then elbowed Makuta in the chest, knocking him to the ground.  The possessed villager lunged on him, punching with all his strength.  Makuta grunted.  Throwing his hands up, he caught the next punch, and then called upon his mask again.

 

“No!  This is going to work!  Spider, let him go!”

 

The power flowed through him again.

 

“Ekimu, you have to fight it!”

 

The power flowed yet again.  Makuta felt strained, as if he were being pulled in two directions at once, but he ignored it.

 

“And you, whatever you are…don’t get in my way!”

 

A third stream of power left him, and Makuta felt as if his mind was going to be ripped apart.  Unwilling to relent, he threw his entire will into the power of the mask, while his body fought to hold Ekimu back.  The spider twitched, and Ekimu grabbed hold of it.  Both of them shouted.  Makuta thought he saw a jet of black flame fly from the spider’s mouth—a hallucination, no doubt.  Just as he felt himself about to pass out, the third stream of power was cut off.  Ekimu tore the Skull Spider from his face, gasped, and threw it against the rocks.  He flopped onto the ground beside Makuta, his body limp.

 

Makuta reeled as reality became clear again.  He reached out frantically, finally grabbing Ekimu’s arm.

 

“Brother?!  Are you okay?”

 

Ekimu groaned.  “Pipe down…”

 

Makuta smiled.  “Thank goodness.  If anything was wrong with you, you wouldn’t be so obnoxious.”

 

Ekimu just laughed.  They lay there for a while before Ekimu turned and looked at the Skull Spider.  It was not moving.

 

“What happened, Ekimu?” Makuta asked.

 

“I was just hunting,” Ekimu said.  “I saw that spider…it looked like it was wounded.  When I moved closer, it suddenly attacked me, knocking off my mask and…”

 

He trailed off.  As he shot into a sitting position, Makuta said, “Don’t worry, we recovered the mask.  It’s back in the village.”

 

Ekimu sighed and laid back down.  “I guess this wouldn’t have happened if I had just worn one of your masks?”

 

“Well, Skull Spiders are quick to adapt.  Even a Mask of Power would’ve been pried off if it had had enough time.”

 

He paused.

 

“Why were you out here alone, brother?”

 

“Because…my friends had all decided to start wearing your masks.  I forbade them from accompanying me.”

 

“You’re the only person in the village who still refuses to wear them.  Please just tell me, brother: why do you hate the Masks of Power so much?”

 

“…It’s not the masks themselves.  Even I can see how revolutionary they are.  It’s just…”

 

His fingers contracted, digging small trenches in the dirt.

 

“…I was…concerned.  That you would become more important to the village than me.”

 

Makuta looked over to Ekimu.  After a moment, he said, “That is truly stupid, brother.”

 

The two of them laughed.  Makuta got to his feet and helped Ekimu up, and then both retrieved their hammers and hefted them with pained grunts.  As they walked back towards the village, Makuta said, “You are important, brother.  It would take a lot more than a few pieces of metal to replace you.”

 

“…Thank you, brother.”

 

 

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The Third Swing

 

 

Makuta looked out over the Region of Earth, a faint smile behind his mask.  He went back into the new forge, a squat building made of gray rock set atop the mountain ridge bordering the Regions of Earth and Fire.  Inside, silver pipes ran along the floor and through the walls, which shaped the chamber into an octagon.  Crates of raw materials lay scattered about, and on the far side of the room were two anvils, with a large pit of magma in the floor between them.

 

From one of the doors leading off of the main chamber, Ekimu appeared, muttering to something in his hands.  Waving, Makuta called, “What have you got there, brother?”

 

Ekimu jumped a bit.  He hesitated, but walked towards Makuta anyway.  “It’s a new mask I made.  I’m not quite sure it turned out well…”

 

He held the mask out and Makuta took it.  It was a rather close-fitting blue mask, with several ridges carved into it, including one along the bottom that looked like a fat lip.  Two fins jutted off from its head at an odd angle, and in place of one eye was a hexagonal patch with many holes in its surface.

 

“Well, this is…a very interesting design,” Makuta said, sounding as encouraging as possible.  “I really like the, um…aerodynamic…look of it…”

 

Ekimu sighed.  “It’s ugly, isn’t it?”

 

“Just a bit.”

 

“I knew it…”

 

“It’s just a design problem.”

 

“But no one wants to wear an ugly mask!  That’s why all my creations get shoved off to the side, no matter which region we visit.”

 

Makuta handed back the mask.  “Ekimu, you have picked up the art of the forge remarkably quick over these past few years, but you are still new at this.  I know you’ll create wonderful designs all your own.  You just need more time.”

 

Ekimu nodded automatically.  “Thank you, brother.  If you don’t mind, I think I’ll retire.”

 

He headed back the way he had come, dumping the mask on a crate as he walked by.  Makuta put a hand to his chin and walked over to one of the anvils.  Soon, there was a knock at the door.

 

“Come in.”

 

In stepped the Protector of Earth, leaning on a wooden staff for support.  “Good day, Makuta.  I hope I’m not interrupting.”

 

“Oh, not at all, Protector!  It’s a pleasure to see you.”

 

“I was just coming back from the Temple of Time and thought I would pay you a visit.  It’s been far too long since I last saw either of you.”

 

As she moved across the floor, she noticed the ugly mask.  “…One of Ekimu’s works, I take it?”

 

Makuta rubbed his neck.  “He has all the makings of a fine craftsman, I’m sure he does.  He just…hasn’t quite figured out how to tap into them.”

 

“I wish I could disagree.  Perhaps he should consider a return to hunting.”

 

Makuta shook his head.  “I think he decided to become a Mask Maker to prove something to himself.  Going back to hunting would leave him stuck in an even worse rut than the one he’s in now.”

 

The Protector shrugged.  “Well, at least he has you to teach him.  A shame that there is only so much one can teach.”

 

Makuta grunted.  He picked up the mask and took a few steps towards the shelf, but then suddenly halted.

 

“Something wrong, Makuta?”

 

“Huh?  Oh, no, just an idea.”

 

Makuta smiled and set the mask on the shelf.  “Yes…a very good idea, I think.”

 

***

 

Ekimu sat on the mountainside, polishing his hammer with a spare rag.  He looked out to the horizon, inhaled deeply, and then let the breath out all at once.

 

“Something troubling you, brother?”

 

Ekimu fumbled, nearly dropping his hammer.  “Makuta, you mustn’t sneak up on me like that!  I could have had quite the fall.”

 

Makuta sat down next to Ekimu, saying, “Oh, give yourself more credit, brother.  You always had the sharper reflexes.”

 

They both looked on the Region of Fire, seeing the red land rise and fall in apparently random places.  Rivers of magma cut through it in elegant streams, making it seem like a subtle pattern left in the earth by nature.

 

“You know,” Ekimu said, “maybe I never will be able to make great masks of my own.”

 

“Brother—“

 

“But, I was thinking, maybe that’s alright.  I shouldn’t necessarily need to be famous to do this.  If all I can do is emulate your designs, then as long as I can do that well, I should just humbly accept that.  We can’t all be the best, you know?  And maybe that’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

 

Makuta turned to him for a moment, then looked away.  “Well if that’s the case, I feel silly.”

 

“Hm?  Why?”

 

“I guess you don’t want my gift, then.”

 

“Gift?  What do you mean?”

 

Makuta produced a small metal box.  “I put an awful lot of effort into it, too.  It’s something I think will help you make wonderful masks, but if that’s not what you want, then I guess I’ll just keep it.”

 

Ekimu snatched the box.  “Now, hang on, maybe I should test this out first!  You know, just to see if it works.  And what I was saying, well…I’ve been wrong before.”

 

Makuta tilted his head.  “Could you mention a few instances, perhaps?”

 

Ekimu grumbled something and pried the lid off the box.  Inside was a mask, one made from pure gold just like Makuta’s.  This one also had a relatively narrow face, though four points jutted out from its edges, and at its top was a five pronged crown, ancient glyphs carved into its points.  Ekimu stared at it in awe.

 

“The Mask of Creation,” Makuta said.  “When you wear this, it will bring out all the potential stored deep within you, and show you how to use it to build whatever it is you wish.”

 

Ekimu lifted the mask, letting the sunlight glint off of it.  “So, with this…I can become as good a Mask Maker as you?”

 

Makuta smiled.  “With this, you might become even greater.”

 

Ekimu squinted.  “I don’t understand.  Why would you give me something like this?  Forging has always been your passion—why give me a way to surpass you?”

 

“Because it is not about who is better, Ekimu.  I simply love what I do, and now that you have chosen the same path, I want you to love it as well.  You are my brother, and I want to see you succeed.  That is all.”

 

Ekimu smiled.  He removed his father’s mask, setting it between them gently, and then placed the Mask of Creation on his face.  A new gleam filled his eyes.  He took up his hammer, saying, “Thank you, brother.  I cannot tell you what this means to me.”

 

***

 

The Protector turned the mask over, examining every inch of it.  It was white and mostly square, with a rounded top that had two small points on the sides, and on the mouth there was a triangular indentation.

 

She looked up and grinned.  “Excellent work, Ekimu!  You have improved by leaps and bounds!”

 

Ekimu beamed.  “Thank you, Protector, but I owe it all to my brother!  If not for this mask he gave me, I’d still have no idea what I was doing.”

 

“No, brother, the credit is yours,” Makuta said.  “I merely gave you a tool—you were the one who put it to use.”

 

Ekimu nodded.  He and the Protector returned to talking of the white mask while Makuta watched from nearby.  It had been a long time since he had seen his brother this happy, and he could not help but feel a small bit of pride for helping him reach it.  Now, he knew, when the legends spoke of the Mask Makers, they would be thought of as equals, and that was all he could have ever hoped for.

 

 

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The Fourth Swing

 

 

Makuta stood in front of the mirror, admiring his new armor: it was almost entirely made of gold, though a few plates of purple had been left in place.  He and Ekimu had been given nearly identical suits by the Protectors of the six villages as thanks for the many masks they had provided to Okoto over the years.  While he had never done it for the reward, this sort of recognition was still very nice.

 

He stepped out of the mostly empty hut he was staying in and looked around the Village of Earth, picking out a few familiar faces in the crowd.  He had not been here since the Protector’s funeral, and it was nice to be back again under happier circumstances.  The armor presentation ceremony was over, but he and Ekimu had decided to stay for a few more days, just to get reacquainted with their old home.

 

As Makuta walked through the village, many of the people he passed smiled at him, nodded, waved, and the like; he acknowledged their gestures kindly.  There were a few, however, who seemed to grow wary when they saw him.  One villager even turned and went the other way.  Makuta tried not to pay it much mind, but it still nagged at him for some reason.

 

He eventually came to the meditation garden and sat down on a patch of grass, hammer set across his lap, and watched the people go by.  Everyone wore a Mask of Power, something that even now made him happy.  He recognized all the designs that want by and was pleased to see that most of them had been made by Ekimu, while those made by him tended to be worn by older villagers, especially the ones that had known them when he and Ekimu had lived in the Region of Earth.  Whenever he travelled to one of the regions, this was a trend he noticed—if anything, Ekimu’s masks were even more popular in other regions, where none had prior experience with either Mask Maker and simply chose the mask they liked best.  Ekimu had noticed this as well, and was thrilled that fortune was smiling on his craft at last.

 

Makuta chuckled as he thought of this.  I’m happy for him.

 

As he continued to watch the crowd, however, he began to feel just the slightest bit frustrated.  While he was certainly happy for his brother, he would still have liked to see a few more of his masks being worn.  He set this disappointment aside, telling himself that he would just have to try harder.

 

“Excuse me, Mask Maker.”

 

Makuta turned to see the new Protector of Earth, a short woman with black and purple armor, as well as two large, spiky plates of silver upon her shoulders.  Attached to her chest was a blaster, and she wore a mask with the same design as the one Makuta’s father had worn, only this one was black with purple along its top edge.  Ekimu had replicated the design (with slight alterations) and given one to each of the Protectors, imbuing them with the tiniest amount of one of the island’s six Elements.  He had said that, as his parents had passed the mask on to him, he wanted the Protectors to pass it on to their children as well.

 

“Ah, Protector!” Makuta said, getting to his feet.  “What can I do for you?”

 

“If you don’t mind, could you come with me?  There’s a matter I think you should be made aware of.”

 

Makuta frowned.  Curious, he followed the Protector, and was led out of the garden and towards the center of the village.

 

“A few months ago, one of our villagers snuck off to the Temple of Time,” the Protector began.  “When he returned, we punished him at once—we told him that it was wrong to trespass on sacred grounds without express permission from myself, but he did not seem to care.  We did what we could and sent him on his way.  Around that time…people began to speak ill of you, Mask Maker.”

 

“They did?” Makuta said.  “Wait, do you mean the both of us?”

 

“No.  I have yet to hear Ekimu’s name be slandered, but there were a small number of people who appeared to be spreading poor word of you and your work.”

 

His frustration rose a bit, but Makuta quickly calmed himself.  “Hmm.  Well, Ekimu’s work has been more popular for some time now.  It’s a natural shift in public opinion.”

 

The Protector looked up at him.  “I fear it is much graver than that, Mask Maker.  They started assaulting those who wore masks of your design, saying that you were an inferior craftsman not worthy of your title.  According to these few, since none will take your work anymore, it just piles up in your forge, and that you are now simply a Mask Hoarder.”

 

Makuta stumbled a bit.  True, he had a few extra masks lying around back at the forge, but that was hardly enough to be considered ‘hoarding’.  On top of that, how would anyone even know something like that?  Few ventured to the forge directly, and only the Protectors or the injured were allowed inside.

 

That’s just…ah, pay it no mind…

 

“I do not mean to alarm you, Mask Maker: these degenerates are few in number, and I have done everything in my power to quell their ravings.  The only reason I bring this to your attention now is because of a recent…rather disturbing development.”

 

They had now reached the Protector’s office, a large hall with a gabled roof supported by four white columns.  Inside were walls lined with portraits of the previous Protectors, polished floors covered by beautifully woven rugs, and various trophies forming two lines from the entryway to the door that led further inside.  The Protector stopped near the middle of the lobby and took a deep breath.

 

“The villager who went to the Temple—we have reason to believe he was the one who started this talk.  We went to confront him about this, but…we found him dead.”

 

Makuta stepped back.  “D…dead?  What killed him?”

 

“We’re not entirely sure.  There were holes in his shoulders, and they appeared to be burned, but…the burns were worse inside of his body rather than on the outside.”

 

Makuta looked at the floor.  “Burns inside him…and it sounds like whatever it was found a way out.”

 

“We do not know what any of this means, Mask Maker.  But, it would appear that you are somehow linked to it, so I thought it best to warn you.  My mother would never forgive me if I withheld information from you.”

 

Makuta looked to the portrait of the previous Protector, the only one depicted wearing a mask.  He smiled.  “She was a good woman.  I know that she raised you well, and I believe you will become a great leader of this village.  Thank you for warning me, Protector.”

 

With that he departed.  As he moved through the streets once again, he could not help but linger a bit more whenever he saw someone eyeing him cautiously.

 

***

 

Makuta climbed up onto the stage and took in the view.  The sun was just about to set, so its red rays were making their last stretch across the black rock, as if to coax some of it into joining the trip beneath the horizon.  The forum was not scheduled until next week—he had checked to be sure—so there was little chance of him being interrupted here.

 

“I knew this was where I’d find you, brother.”

 

Makuta turned around.  Ekimu approached, gold and blue armor shimmering.

 

“Ah, Ekimu!  I was wondering if I would run into you sooner or later.  I figured we would both be taking a tour of separate places.”

 

Ekimu stepped up next to Makuta.  “We were very different from each other then, weren’t we?”

 

“I wouldn’t say that.  We’ve never been that different, really, we just chose different ways to invest our time.”

 

Ekimu laughed.  “I suppose so.  We were certainly equally stubborn.”

 

“Yes, but at least I grew out of it.”

 

“Oh-ho!  Are you trying to imply something, brother?”

 

“Not at all, brother, not at all.”

 

Ekimu slapped Makuta’s shoulder.  “That’s what I thought.”

 

They laughed.

 

“…You know,” Ekimu said, “all day I went around seeing everything that had changed since we lived here.  I thought about how strange it all felt, like this wasn’t the same place I left.  But up here, taking everything in at once…it doesn’t seem like anything’s changed at all.”

 

Makuta nodded.  “I know what you mean.  On the surface, a lot is unfamiliar.  But if you look closely enough, you can see that this is still, and will always be, our home.”

 

They stood in silence for a while.

 

“I wouldn’t be here like this if not for you,” Ekimu said.  “This mask you gave me changed everything.”

 

Makuta’s thoughts cut back to what the Protector had said.  Blinking, he said, “This is an accomplishment to be shared, brother.  You need to take the credit that you are due.  You were the one who figured out how to refine our art and imbue masks with the power of the Elements, after all.”

 

After a short pause, he added, “Ekimu…you visited the Temple of Time once, didn’t you?”

 

“Hm?  Yes, I did go there a few years back.  Why do you ask?”

 

“It’s been on my mind lately.  I don’t recall you saying a whole lot about your experience there.”

 

Ekimu planted his hammer in the ground and leaned on it.  “Hmm…even now it’s a little difficult to put into words.  Something about just being in that place is overwhelming in a thrilling sort of way.  I went in and found a nice spot to meditate, and before long I was entranced.”

 

“Was your meditation productive?”

 

Ekimu grinned mischievously.  After glancing around, he whispered, “I’ve been dying to tell someone, but you must promise to keep it a secret, alright?”

 

Makuta leaned in closer.  “Alright, I promise.”

 

“As I was meditating, I heard something.  There were six voices, all of them chanting something.  A prophecy, I suppose.”

 

Makuta looked at him in awe.  “And you’ve told no one of this?”

 

Ekimu shook his head.  “What I heard was very specific.  It needs to be saved for the most dire situation, and even then, I think I’m only supposed to reveal it to the Protectors.”

 

He frowned.  “Truthfully, while it is quite exciting…I hope that time never comes.”

 

Makuta nodded.  “I see.  Is that why you took those six Golden Masks you created and hid them around the island?”

 

“I just had a feeling that precautions should be taken.  Those masks are very special, and I have to make sure that only the truly worthy can claim them.”

 

Turning to Makuta, he asked, “Come to think of it, I noticed that the Golden Mask of Skull Spiders disappeared a while back.  Can you tell me what happened to that?”

 

Makuta smiled and turned to the horizon.  “I’m sure you’ve heard the stories about the monster guarding the Ancient City?”

 

“The Lord of Skull Spiders?”

 

“I gave it to him.”

 

“…What?”

 

“He’s already their leader, more or less, and if he guards the Ancient City then he must be a noble creature.  As it seemed to me, that mask belongs in his possession.”

 

“Can he even wear a mask?”

 

“I’m not sure, actually…but, he took it, so I’m sure he sees a use for it, whatever that may be.”

 

“Well, alright…”

 

Ekimu stretched.  “You know, if you’re interested in the Temple of Time, maybe you should go there?  Just ask the Protector before we leave; I’m sure he’ll give you permission.”

 

Makuta nodded once.  “…Yes.  I think I will do just that.”

 

***

 

The tall, box-shapedTemple of Time reached up into the sky, segments of its dark walls glowing with ethereal blue light.  A pendulum could be seen emerging from one side, then the other, then the first again at regular intervals, with a distinct clunking sound accompanying each swing.

 

Makuta stepped inside.  The interior was gray and ancient looking, bordering on decrepit.  Glowing glyphs were carved in rows on the old stone, and the pendulum routinely swung through the center of the chamber.  Several staircases were built into the walls, leading up to some circular platform high above.  Makuta didn’t see a reason to climb them.

 

So, Ekimu walks away from here with a prophecy…and another villager comes away from here bearing hatred towards me.  I’ve heard that this is from where all time on Okoto flows, but why would it bestow things on the people who come to see it?

 

Walking closer to the pendulum, Makuta sat down and closed his eyes.  He felt the air on his body as the pendulum rushed past him.  Soon he was caught up in the rhythm, and found himself in a calm trance, mind open and reaching out for whatever answers he would be given.

 

Black flames sprang from the upper level and travelled down the pendulum.  When it next swung past Makuta, they leapt onto him.

 

Makuta felt a terrible burning rush through his entire body in an instant.  By the time his eyes shot open, the flames had disappeared within him, and the burning ceased abruptly.  Clutching his head, Makuta grabbed his hammer and tried to stand, but he tripped, and his mask was knocked off when he hit the ground.  After groping blindly for it, he pulled it back into place, and then managed to get up and stagger out of the Temple.

 

He paused a moment, and then immediately headed in the direction of the forge.  He wanted to get as far away from this place as he could, to forget that he had ever even gone there, because in that one, terrible moment, he had felt a desire in his heart to create something that he knew would be an absolute abomination.

 

A Mask of Ultimate Power.

 

 

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The Final Swing

 

 

 

CLANG!

 

Makuta’s vision blurred.  He paused until the distortion went away.

 

CLANG!

 

A sharp pain filled his chest.  He clutched his torso, but it disappeared as quickly as it had arisen.

 

CLANG!

 

Makuta set down his hammer and wiped his brow.  The mask he was working on didn’t seem to be getting anywhere, and it frustrated him.  The only thing he could think to do was to scrap this piece and try again later.

 

As he cleaned off his gauntlets, his thoughts wandered again to that day.  It had been years now, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not forget it.

 

The Mask of Ultimate Power…

 

He shook his head, anger welling up within him.  He punched the wall.

 

No.  We agreed long ago that a mask like that could never be forged.  Don’t be stupid, Makuta.

 

He told himself this each and every time these thoughts appeared.  But they never stopped appearing.  It was an endless battle, one he did not feel he was making any progress on.  He had considered asking for help, but it was not so easy: how could he explain this to someone without them becoming furious with him for considering such a thing?

 

He melted the mask down and went to his chamber.  It was dimly lit, and that was how he preferred it.  He didn’t want to see the legion of masks filling the shelves, spilling out onto the floor, collecting layer upon layer of dust from years gone by.  Virtually everyone on Okoto preferred Ekimu’s masks.  No matter what region Makuta went to, no one would take any of the masks he made.  Some would politely refuse.  Others would shake their heads and walk away, whispering to each other when out of earshot but not out of sight.

 

I truly have become a Mask Hoarder.

 

As he shuffled across the room, he tripped and fell over a mask.  He sat up and growled, grabbing for the now broken mask, and stared at it.  It was an old design, the same one he had given to the previous Protector of Earth.  He looked at it in silence.

 

“Brother?”

 

Ekimu pushed the door open.  “Are you alright, brother?  I heard—“

 

“GET OUT!” Makuta shouted, hurling the mask.  Ekimu recoiled as it hit the doorframe, and then watched Makuta wide-eyed for a moment.  Slowly, he stepped out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

 

Makuta grabbed his head in both hands and buried his face in knees.

 

The Mask…

 

“No, no…”

 

Ultimate Power…

 

“No, I don’t want to!”

 

Without that, you will never be given any respect again.

 

“That’s not true…I…I’m…”

 

A Mask Hoarder.

 

Makuta’s body tightened, and he began to sob.

 

“I don’t…I don’t want this…I don’t…”

 

I’m not giving you a choice.

 

A burning pain filled Makuta.  He tried to scream, but his voice did not come.  He tried to fight, but after fighting for so long, being dejected and discouraged at every turn, he simply did not have the strength left to do anything.

 

***

 

CLANG!

 

Makuta stood at his workbench, shoulders hunched.

 

CLANG!

 

The beat of his hammer echoed through the dark, empty forge.

 

CLANG!

 

Light of various colors streamed from the anvil and danced around him.

 

CLANG!

 

His face was expressionless, and his eyes held no life.

 

CLANG!

 

The mask began to take shape.

 

CLANG!

 

Makuta felt nothing, save for a cold, all-consuming emptiness.

 

***

 

He held the newly-completed mask aloft.  Its surface was jet black, and it had an oval shape with six rectangular fins shooting out from its edges.  In a hoarse, hollow voice, he named it.

 

“The Mask…of Ultimate…Power…”

 

Black flames burst from his palms.  It burned, but he did not react.  The flames moved from him to the mask, forming into one intense blaze that obscured the mask’s features, save for the eyeholes, which burst with a piercing red light.

 

Heheheheheh…at long, long last…

 

Makuta fell to his knees.  “What have I done…?”

 

You did as you were destined to do.  I made sure of that.  And now, I must make sure of it once more.  Take me to the Temple of Time.

 

Makuta stood and turned towards the door.

 

Wait!  Your mask.  You must leave it here.

 

As he reached for his Mask of Control, Makuta hesitated.  The Mask of Ultimate Power glared at him, and, with a short breath, he removed the golden mask and set it down next to his hammer.  He walked sullenly out of the forge, not even thinking of looking back.

 

***

 

He walked.  And he walked.  And he walked.  And he walked.  And he walked.

 

Makuta walked until he finally came upon the Temple of Time, keeping his eyes on the ground as he marched inside and up the stairs.  Above the pendulum, near the open roof where the sky could be seen, was a circular platform with a depression in its center.  In the niche was a strange light similar to the glow along the walls of the temple.  Makuta stopped at its edge and waited.

 

Raise me.

 

He lifted the Mask above his head.  The flames around it grew larger and larger, until finally it shot a continuous stream into the pool.  A pillar of light shot up into the sky; Makuta looked into it and saw flashes of images, images of times long past that the Mask’s flames found their way into.

 

A Skull Spider that had scuttled into the Temple by accident.

 

A villager who had been gripped by rebellious curiosity.

 

A Mask Maker with an empty space in his heart.

 

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he realized what the Mask was doing.  But he could not find it in him to try to stop it.  Soon enough the stream of fire ceased, and the light receded back into the pool.  The Mask laughed at him.

 

You have been so very useful to me, Makuta—and so very easy to coerce!  A shame Ekimu does not bend as easily, eh?

 

Makuta said nothing.

 

Yes, Ekimu…he said he was going to the Region of Stone, didn’t he?  Why don’t we pay him a visit?  Heheheheh…

 

***

 

Ekimu shook the sand off his armor as he ascended the rocky slopes.  The Region of Stone was a lot like the Region of Earth at first glance, if brighter and relatively flatter.  It was a pleasant enough region, unless you got caught in a sandstorm, but the weather had been quite favorable ever since he had arrived.

 

Makuta has seemed troubled for a long time now.  I must find a way to help him…

 

He spotted something out of the corner of his eye.  Rushing across the expanse of brown stone, he came a stop at the base of a slope, and looked up.

 

“Makuta?  What are you doing here?”

 

There was no reply.

 

“Where’s your mask, brother?  And what is…”

 

Ekimu trailed off.  He could feel the unnatural power flowing from the mask in Makuta’s hands.  He gulped.

 

“…You were a mere hunter,” Makuta croaked.  “You had no talent, no future as a Mask Maker.  The only thing that saved you was MY Mask of Creation.”

 

“…Brother…?”

 

You took the role that was rightfully mine.  But with this…I will take it back from you.”

 

Makuta raised the mask.  Taking a step back, Ekimu asked, “Makuta…what is that?”

 

This is something greater than anything you could ever create.  This…is the Mask of Ultimate Power!

 

Makuta donned the Mask.  He shouted as it flared with new strength, his body growing larger, his armor changing to pitch-black and blood-red.

 

“Makuta!” Ekimu called.  “What are you doing?!”

 

The ground beneath him began to shake.  Makuta’s cries ceased, and he looked down at Ekimu, the flames of the Mask of Ultimate Power engulfing his whole head.

 

Now, Mask Maker…your time is at an end!

 

Makuta raised his hand.  A fireball formed within it, and he quickly lobbed it at Ekimu.  Surprised but not off-guard, Ekimu rolled aside.

 

“…Makuta…this isn’t you, is it?”

 

Heheheh…perceptive, Mask Maker.  This is why you were not fit to carry my will!

 

Makuta threw a punch.  A line of jagged rocks shot up from the ground and moved towards Ekimu, who shattered them with his hammer.

 

“Let my brother go!”

 

Makuta is under my control now.  And, now that I have been forged, there is not a thing you can do to stop me!

 

A wall of water rose up between them, and then crashed down on Ekimu.  He held onto a rock, waiting for the wave to pass, and then tried to charge at Makuta.  The water on his armor froze into ice, trapping him long enough for a fist of earth to shoot up and send him flying.

 

Heheheheh, struggle all you want, Mask Maker!  With you out of the way, all of Okoto shall fall before my might!

 

When Ekimu hit the ground several vines sprang up and wrapped around him.  Makuta threw a boulder at him, dazing him for a moment.

 

“…No.  I refuse to believe it!”

 

Ekimu called upon the mystic energy.

 

“There is still a way to save Makuta—I know that there must be!  And I swear to you, brother: I will save you!”

 

Ekimu burst free from the vines and ran forward.  Pillars rose up to impede him, but he darted around them and pressed onward.  Makuta put both hands out and unleashed a blanket of fire, but Ekimu executed a fantastic leap, somersaulted through the air, and landed behind Makuta, immediately spinning around with his hammer outstretched.

Makuta raised his arms to block the blow, sliding backward from the force but not losing his footing.  He willed the ground to fling Ekimu towards him.  Catching the Mask Maker, he slammed him into the earth and raised his free hand, creating a blade of ice in it.  Ekimu kicked upward, throwing Makuta off of him and then rolling to his feet.

 

Persistent nuisance!

 

Makuta punched the ground when he landed, sending out a shockwave that sent Ekimu reeling.  A jet of flames shot out from Makuta’s palm, smothering Ekimu, until his target broke free and sprinted forward again.  The sands around them began to whip together into a funnel.  It swept towards Ekimu, but he planted his hammer in the ground and held fast.

 

“You have to fight it, brother!”

 

Makuta laughed.  “How could he hope to fight against all six Elements at once?  In your position, you should understand perfectly the futility of his plight!

 

Makuta raised his arm, but it paused about half-way.  He looked at it in bewilderment, but then glared and said, “…Know your place.

 

He raised his arm high, and it became coated in water.  He thrust it out and shot forward, colliding with Ekimu and flinging him into the sandstorm.  Sharp bits of hail formed within it, leaving cuts and dents in Ekimu’s armor, and the storm then threw him at the ground, where two hammers of wood of soil slammed into him with enough force that they shattered on impact.  Ekimu tried to get up, but Makuta covered his foot in fire and kicked him in the stomach.

 

Give up, Mask Maker.  I have manipulated your whole life to bring these events to pass.  Your brother is gone.  In a short time, you will be dead.  This entire island is doomed, and you are powerless to stop me.

 

Ekimu laughed.  “You are truly stupid.”

 

Makuta lurched a bit.  While he was distracted, Ekimu sprang up and punched him.  The surprise of the blow made him stumble back.

 

“I don’t care how many years your plans have been in motion!”

 

Drawing in more energy, Ekimu punched again.  Makuta was pushed back even further.

 

“I don’t care how powerful you are, or how tough you might be!”

 

He drew in even more energy.  His fists crackled with raw power, and Makuta was sent tumbling back across the ground by the next blow.

 

“If you are a threat to me…a threat to Okoto…a threat to my brother!”

 

More and more energy flowed into him.  His entire body shone as he picked his hammer back up.

 

“If you threaten what I hold most dear, then there is not a thing you can do to stop me!!”

 

Ekimu ran.  Makuta stood up and, after his body twitched briefly, unleashed all the powers at his disposal.  The ground quaked, and boulders rained down.  Thorny vines sprang up into a small forest.  White waters gushed out, icicles rising from their depths, only to be followed in moments by a sea of fire.

 

And still Ekimu ran.

 

He barreled through everything that Makuta threw at him, not slowing down in the least.  He pulled his hammer back, braced himself, and shouted.

 

Curse you, Mask Maker!!

 

Ekimu swung his hammer in an upward arc with all his might.  Makuta started to move away, but then suddenly leaned into its path, and the Mask of Ultimate Power was knocked from his face.

 

For a moment, the light returned to his eyes.  “…Ekimu…?”

 

A shockwave rippled outward from the point of contact.  Ekimu and Makuta were flung in opposite directions, both of their masks being carried even further away.  Ekimu lost his grip on his hammer as he hit the ground, and then was driven deeper into it, carving a massive crater where he landed.  The energy all left his body at once, and the pain of his wounds flooded in where it had once been.

 

“Makuta…”

 

His vision turned black.  When he opened his eyes again, he could just barely make out six figures standing over him—the Protectors, called from each of their villages by the horrible battle.  Of Makuta, there was no sign.

Heartache seized Ekimu, and he realized that he could not know for sure if he had succeeded in saving his brother.  All he could do now as he slipped away again was whisper the words he had heard so long ago, the prophecy passed on to him at the Temple of Time.

 

“When times are dark and all hope seems lost, the Protectors must unite—one from each tribe. Evoke the power of past and future and look to the skies for an answer. When the stars align, six comets will bring timeless heroes to claim the Masks of Power and find the Mask Maker. United, the elements hold the power to defeat evil. United—but not one.”

 

***

 

Years later, the Lord of Skull Spiders crawled along the gateway to the Ancient City.  All before the gate was still.  It was always still.  Nothing ever ventured towards the City, save for the occasional dumb animal, making the spider’s job dreadfully boring.

 

He approached the pedestal near the gate, upon which sat the golden mask carved in the image of the beings it commanded.  It had sat there ever since the stranger had brought it, save for a handful of times when the Lord of Skull Spiders became bored and took a look at what his underlings were thinking.  Now seemed like a good time to do just that.

 

As the spider touched the mask, his mind began to open up.  But, in addition to the thoughts and feelings of the Skull Spiders, there was something else, something that had never been there before.  A voice.

 

That mask…

 

The spider paused.  After a few moments, he recognized the voice.  It belonged to the one who had brought him the mask.

 

You must…find that…mask…

 

Which mask, the spider wondered?  The mask it held was already found.  Did the stranger want him to find another one?

 

That mask…cannot be allowed…to remain…it must be found…and it must be…

 

The voice trailed off.  When minutes passed, it became apparent that it was not coming back.

 

The Lord of Skull Spiders put the mask down and thought.  The stranger had given him a very kind gift, so he would like to do something in return.  Plus, he was horribly, terribly bored.  As long as the City remained guarded, there was no harm in organizing a search.

 

But which mask did the stranger want?  And what did he want to do with it?  These were questions the spider could not answer.  He would need to find the stranger and ask what he wanted, but it seemed wise to obtain the mask first.  But, as he had learned from linking with the Skull Spiders, all the people in those villages seemed to be wearing masks now.  There were so many of them, and any one could be the mask the stranger wanted.

 

The Lord of Skull Spiders made a decision.  Using the mask he had, he would have the other spiders gather all the masks they could and bring them to the Ancient City.  They would have to find the mask the stranger wanted eventually.  And when they had all the masks they could find, then he would send them in search of the stranger, if they had not found him already, to ask which mask he wanted and why.

 

So he picked the mask up again, and spread his order to all the Skull Spiders on Okoto:

 

Bring me the masks.

 

 

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