Smoke continued to billow out, suffusing the room in a thick, choking haze. The smog was so heavy that it became difficult to see through his pink porcelain rabbit mask, though the blood dripping over the mask’s eyelets didn’t help his vision either. The building was wholly consumed in the wrathful ire of flame and the foundations that had once kept this quaint auditorium up had simply become more fuel for the growing conflagration. He looked down at his clothes, dismayed to see the plethora of crimson stains that pockmarked its eloquent form. He was definitely dressed for a better occasion than the one he was in, a dashing noble amidst a burning refuge. It was difficult to blame himself for the inappropriate attire though, since he was not alerted of the dress code ahead of time.
<hr>
She had been waiting impatiently for many hours, a mixture of boredom and annoyance rising as she watched the slow trickle of people flow into the empty auditorium from the small eyelets of her grey porcelain wolf mask. She was never too fond of these large gatherings they always demanded she attend. All of the flowery bombast hiding an undercurrent of subterfuge and nebulous ‘grander’ overarching plans always went over her head. She much preferred it when they just sent her a letter telling her to act, and she would act. This time was different though; the rabbit was coming.
<hr>
He was nervously waiting in a small room to the side of the vast auditorium, though his apprehension did not show through the eye holes of his dark cowl. Today was the day he was going to be granted his mask. He stared at his hand reminding himself of why it was different: who made it different. He knew that once he finally got his mask, he could right the wrongs of the world. He wasn’t entirely sure of exactly what they saw in him to so quickly give him such a prestigious position, but he was in no position to complain. “Mhm” a loud voice could be heard from the auditorium; it was starting.
<hr>
A man walked into the tavern, its emptiness only broken by the presence of the bored bartender. His attire was unusual—immaculately clean and perfectly tailored, exuding an air of importance yet distinct from the robes of a typical noble. He wore black pants and a matching blazer over a crisp white shirt, with a colourful silk cloth wrapped around his neck, cascading to his stomach. The bartender recognized the clothes instantly. She knew someone who always wore the exact same ensemble. He had told her it was the style of dress of ancient nobility, known as a three-piece suit it even came complete with polished shoes. He always dressed for a better occasion than the one he was in, but this stranger was not him.
<hr>
It stuck its head out from the curtains hiding the stage. The gathering of people was approaching its full size now. It would begin soon. It was not worried that the audience would know that it was an it because its face was protected by a mask, the perfect mask. A small yellow porcelain mask of an octopus, each of its tentacles curled to the chin with many blue rings spotting its body. The mask didn’t have any strings to wrap around its head, it just seemed to stick on with no impression of falling, as did all the porcelain masks provided to the organization.
Satisfied with the size of its audience, the octopus pulled its head back in, hiding from the patiently waiting audience behind the red curtains. “I hope you are excited! Today you will become change itself. This world, and all who stand on it; your words today decide their fate.” In front of the octopus was a short and plump person, it was impossible to distinguish any details because their face was hidden behind a white porcelain lamb mask.
<hr>
He found it hard to breathe. Missing a lung didn’t help in that case. His diaphragm pointlessly continued its rhythmic motion, pushing against his loose ribs. The pain seared through every nerve. He tried to ignore it, that visceral wrongness that his chest had turned into.
His hand, although it was different, was still capable of dragging his mostly limp body forward, just a few more inches. His mask had fallen, but if he could just get it back, all would be solved.
<hr>
He had finally arrived at this small town just on the outskirts of the Cruor Swamps in the dead of night. The perfect place to do things one would want to do unnoticed. Why would following his master’s footsteps lead him to such a place? He wasn’t sure, but he would not leave this town without becoming so. He tightened his tie with his free hand while his other held firmly to his, as he called it: briefcase. He noticed a tavern off to the side of the street; surely someone there could guide him to the auditorium.
<hr>
A lady wearing a green porcelain turtle mask waved goodbye as she made her way back towards the tavern. The woman watched the turtle walk away for a moment, returning her own wave in kind before finally entering the auditorium. A few other of the early attendants curiously noted her entrance, but when they saw her grey porcelain wolf mask, they became too daunted to attempt approaching her.
The auditorium was not very large, but it could hold the hundred or so people that would soon arrive. The square stage across the room was blocked off from the crowd by a large red curtain. She scanned the room to see if he was already there. She was glad to see that there were two other masks here, but he was not one of them. The only reason she even bothered showing up was because he was supposed to be here too.
<hr>
An ethereal green shell suddenly appeared just in time to block the faintly pink-coated foot, a loud thud exploding out as his kick struck the shell inches away from the grey wolf mask. He felt a sudden chill from behind; the pink around his foot suddenly hardened, and faint ethereal hairs began to form just as he pushed off the shell, cracking it with the force. Where he just was, a red blade and a slender man in a red fox mask appeared. He could feel his mask wailing with exhaustion after that last maneuver, and he wasn’t entirely sure how well he could manage without it.
Twisting around, he threw another kick into the ethereal brown horns charging at him and the pink-coated foot easily shattered the horns, the unstoppable attack continuing further and crunching into the brown porcelain bull mask and sending the bull flying across the room.
A woman with a green porcelain turtle mask struggled to speak through forced breaths. “My shell… won’t… last … much longer.” The smoke from the recent fire was starting to build up at this point and breathing became strained, especially for the out of breath turtle.
The fox ran to the bull to help him up and extinguish the flames caught onto his sleeves. The woman with the wolf mask responded to her exhausted companion “It won’t need to.” A powerful silver energy started to envelop the wolf’s arm. The silver energy hardened and coalesced until growing full of fur. She extended her claws and readied to attack the man with the pink coated foot that hid his identity behind a pink porcelain rabbit mask.
<hr>
“Try not to charge through that curtain.” a slender man with a red porcelain fox mask said as he approached the buffet table and pointed to the red curtain hiding the stage from the rest of the auditorium.
The burly man with the brown porcelain bull mask responded. “You know that’s not actually a thing, right?” The bull turned his back to the fox, rummaging a cookie from the buffet table before twisting back towards him, “Actually, I know that you know that’s not a thing because I told you at the last meeting that it wasn’t. Now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure I told you at the meeting before the previous one as well.” The bull berated.
The fox softly chuckled “yeah, but I like pissing you off.” The fox swiped the cookie from out of the bull’s hands and gently raised his mask to eat the cookie without revealing his face. A satisfying crunch emanated from under the mask, “…And I have to do something to make these meetings a little more exciting. It’s just the same boring ceremony every time.”
<hr>
“Give me the box.” The lamb beckoned to the rabbit before him. The two of them were poised on the center of the stage, the entire auditorium and its hundreds of spectators as anxious witnesses to the tense stand-off. The rabbit was holding a small case close to his chest. A third man without a mask was also on stage nervously watching the two.
“It’s called a briefcase.” The rabbit spat back bitterly.
“Then give me the briefcase.”
It was impossible to tell expressions with everyone wearing masks, but the rabbit could feel the arrogance exuding from the lamb. “No”
<hr>
“…Change!” even within this small little room to the side of the auditorium he could hear the voice echoing down the halls and signaling his cue to enter. He fidgeted and adjusted his hood nervously then walked into the large room and onto the stage with the comfort of knowing no one could see his anxiety through the eye holes of his cowl. There was already someone atop the stage ready to welcome him, the person’s face was covered with the white porcelain mask of a lamb, in his left hand was a small black cloth obstructing some item hidden beneath. The crowd was totally silent as he approached the center. “Two years ago, this man gave his soul to us. We sent his soul to the Whittler. The Whittler judged his soul, sculpted it.” The lamb at the center of the stage paused as if expecting some kind of response, but received none, he continued. “For the first time in fifty years, a soul has been returned.” The lamb turned towards the nervous man. “But before we return your new soul back to you, we have a very special guest today, who comes with a gift. I would like to call the rabbit to the stage.”
<hr>
The octopus tapped the shoulder of the dazed man with yellow skin next to it and pointed to the auditorium. The dazed man shook his head vigorously as if trying to discard something unwanted, but whatever it was he failed to remove it. The dazed man tossed a torch into the strange pool of black liquid at the base of the auditorium and it immediately lit ablaze, the slow clawing teeth of unrelenting fire climbing out of that pool and biting into the dry wood of the auditorium.
The octopus took a deep breath to appreciate the soft dawn breeze. It gazed up to the beautiful purple sky, taking in the wonderful morning breeze and catching sight of a faint black shadow that could be seen slithering across the day star off in the distance. “We should probably get going before any unwanted guess show up. I think they can take care of the rest anyways.” The octopus and the dazed man walked away from the town into the dawning horizon.
<hr>
The lamb’s mask fell cracking in two on the hard wood floor and revealing a youthful face. Tears streaked down plump cheeks still young with fat and continued downwards passed his chin and to his throat where it united with the vile mixture of gushing blood and pink energy. His phantom limb rose to clot his evacuating red life but no limb moved. His mind was swimming. He was trying to focus on the animals in front of him, but his eyes wouldn’t listen for some reason. The force at his throat was released and immediately crumbled to the floor.
<hr>
The man in the three-piece suit approached the bartender. “I am here to attend a gathering. Do you know where I could find it?” He asked, placing a porcelain mask on the counter. The mask had two long ears that extended the overall size of the mask two-fold. It depicted the face of a rabbit, and the whole mask was painted pink.
<hr>
The lamb and the octopus hurriedly ran down the hall off of the auditorium and into a small waiting room. The lamb was desperately collecting cloths to clot the gushing liquids from escaping from where his left arm once was. The lamb shouted to the octopus with a horrified squeak “What is happening? I thought you said the rabbit was going to help us?”
The octopus stopped in its tracks and turned to the worried lamb, taking a moment to decide if the lamb was worth the effort. A decision was quickly made and the octopus then gently placed its hand against the wooden wall next to it. The octopus made sure to really get the texture right, to feel every bump and imperfection of the aged surface, colour was easy and it was in these minute details where survival depended.
The door to the small side room ruptured into countless pieces. The rabbit ran into the room to see the lamb alone, holding tightly to the stub which was once his left arm. “Where is the octopus?” but no response.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
The rabbit charged towards the lamb. In the blink of an eye, the rabbit imbued pink energy into his fist and threw an incredible punch that skewered the lamb in the throat.
<hr>
“-the rabbit to the stage.” The lamb announced before the crowd. The wolf, trying to hold back her tears, grabbed onto the rabbit’s blazer as he was walking away. She begged through choked breaths “Why?”
The rabbit turned dismissively to the wolf and replied apathetically “I need to go to the stage now.”
The wolf tightened her grip. “Is he alive?” the rabbit did not respond. “Tell me he’s alive.” The wolf pleaded.
“I have to go now.” The rabbit said forcibly removing her grip from him. The rabbit walked on to the stage and the wolf covered her arm in an ethereal silver aura.
<hr>
As if magnetically attracted, the mask flew onto his face. The black porcelain mask in the shape of a spiked star hid his dried tears from the rest of the world. It still wasn’t easy to breath with the punctured lung, but with the mask’s encouragements he could endure the pain.
He stood up, now alone on the stage and looked over the sea of corpses. Their burning bodies filling the room with a horrendous odour. With the mask on, he was filled with a sense of calmness, the typically traumatizing sight managing to trigger nothing in his heart. He looked up passed the pyres of flame and to the roof. It had partly crumbled under its abuse allowing the calm man to peer out to the sky. Light was beginning to illuminate the fluffy clouds above and beckon a new day on. The sky was littered in many soft white clouds, truly dazzling. His cloud watching was interrupted by the screech of a man from the room to the side of the auditorium.
<hr>
“You should put on your mask before entering.” The barkeep told the well-dressed man while pointing to the pink rabbit mask. Similarly, she put on her own mask of a green porcelain turtle. The well-dressed man nodded and put on the rabbit mask. She didn’t know how this man got a hold of the rabbit mask or of the briefcase. But she had to find a way to alert the rest. It may be the weakest mask, but one could never take too many precautions.
<hr>
The wolf leaped onto the stage throwing a mighty fist at the rabbit. The rabbit calmly placed his briefcase between him and that charging fist. And as if it was some immovable mountain, the wolf’s fist stopped dead its track. Before she could even register her aching knuckles, she was swept off her feet by a low kick and fell to the ground.
The crowd let out a shocked gasp at the sudden development but before they had any chance to process what happened the fight was over and the rabbit placed his foot imbued with pink energy on the chest of the collapsed wolf.
The bull ran toward the stage to assist but was halted by a raised arm of the lamb. “It would appear that our VIP is quite excitable today.” The lamb gestured to the bull to step away. “That is understandable. I would be to if I had the honour of giving away such a gift. But surely Ms. Wolf, this is no cause for jealousy. And Mr. Rabbit, could you please not overreact so much, you’re going to scare our initiate.” The rabbit removed his foot from the injured wolf and turned toward the lamb. “You know, from the fairy tales, I always expected the two of you to be in reversed positions right now.” The lamb chuckled in a feeble attempt to cut the tension. “Why don’t you give me the box?”
<hr>
The octopus focused all of its mask’s power into keeping it hidden. The side room next to the auditorium was filled with all six masks currently, and it had no intention of partaking in the imminent fight. The octopus silently slipped past the plump corpse on the ground and down the hall back into the auditorium. It could hear shouting from the room it just abandoned “Who are you and what did you do to the real rabbit?”
The octopus would definitely have a lot to report when it returned to its superiors, but first there was some clean up to attend to. The octopus stood at the center of the stage and finally relinquished its camouflage. The octopus took in the large crowd before it, most of which were totally unsure of how to react, pitiful really that this was how their members acted in the heat of battle. The octopus was certain that the powers that be would want as few as possible to know of this incident and with the performance they were presenting, they wouldn’t be missed much.
A faint ethereal yellow mist oozed out of the octopus mask and enveloped the auditorium. Upon contacting the confused crowd the yellow mist began to seep into their open pores and immediately the victims’ throats clenched shut. The poisonous mist claiming its first victim was the impetus that sent the asphyxiating crowd fleeing for the exit but they all soon fell to the floor clawing at their swelling throats without even a single person making it to the door. It was truly concerning that this was the rabble that it had to work with.
The octopus threw a dissatisfied glance back to the waiting room and lamented the sacrifices this day would toll, but such was the way of things. The octopus ensured to spare one of its choking victims, making the yellow mist surrounding one of the people still struggling for his last gasp of air to harden and merge with his skin giving it a faint yellow hue. The man instantly felt comfortable in the poisoning mist and could breathe normally.
The octopus looked over to the other man on the stage. This man was totally unaffected by the yellow mist, he had a hole punctured through his chest but he was not dead. He was desperately crawling across the stage to get to an item. The octopus easily outpaced the dying man and picked up the object. It was a porcelain mask; the mask had the vague shape of a star with many limbs outstretched in all directions and was riddled with countless small black spikes. The octopus carried the mask over to the dying man and knelt next to him. “There is no Whittler, I am your whittler and I am giving you this mask. You will do well to remember that. It is with my generosity and mercy that you survive this night.” The octopus gingerly placed the mask next to the dying man. “The rabbit isn’t the rabbit anymore. I don’t know who he is now, but who he used to be used to be someone who knew you… if that helps any. And… please be the last person to leave this place. I’m sure a warrior of your skill can understand how to do that.” The octopus got up and walked towards the exit of the auditorium. “There are some oil lamps and torches in the back, go get them.” The man with the yellow skin ran to the back of the stage.
<hr>
A streak of pink energy sliced through the lamb’s left arm, severing the limb and launching it across the stage. The black cloth now knocked away, revealed, within the lifeless hand, a porcelain mask depicting a strange many limbed black star littered with small black spikes. The man in the dark cowl tried to jump away, but the rabbit’s arm, along with its deadly pink aura pierced his lung as if his arm were an impossibly sharp blade. Pain erupted across every nerve of the cowled man’s body as he fell to the floor. He wanted to stand back up, but his body shouted at him not to. The whole world was spinning, and voices were distorted to incomprehension. A shade of yellow waved towards where the lamb once was and away again, followed by shades of pink, orange and brown. Were these colours real? It was impossible to tell at this point. He wasn’t even certain of his own consciousness. Perhaps, the solution was just a few inches away: that black porcelain star.
<hr>
The wolf’s arm had grown into that of a great monster. It was no longer ethereal; the thick grey fur was tangible, and one could feel the power which emanated from it. All of the air within the room seemed to be drawn into that arm being sucked away. She swung her arm at the rabbit all the way on the other end of the room. Despite the fact that he was far out of her reach, he desperately jumped aside, barely dodging out of the way of a great invisible slash that tore the wall behind him. The building exceedingly weakened by the fire could no longer sustain its weight with the new wound and the wall collapsed dragging part of the ceiling down with it.
The rabbit propelled himself forward out of the debris and swung his pink clad foot towards the wolf. Again, at the last second a green shell materialized defending the wolf. A red pressure on his neck, a brown force at his back, a grey blade towards his chest; the rabbit expertly weaved and dashed out of the continuous onslaught of the coordinated group. Each one of them individually was extremely powerful and skilled, their cooperation making them even more so. The rabbit was unsure of how much longer he could push back against them; he had to end this fight quickly.
He imbued more energy into his mask and the pink energy around his foot climbed up his leg. The rabbit could sense a brown force charging straight towards him, just on cue the large ethereal horns of the bull emerged from the fiery smoke. The bull charged towards him while remaining low to the ground, nearly on all fours. The rabbit raised his briefcase between the two. Upon colliding with the briefcase, the bull stopped cold. The rabbit swung his pink infused leg up and into the stomach of the bull. The green shell appeared again but was too weak this time, the shell shattered, and the rabbit’s foot comfortably depressed into the bull’s stomach. He could feel the organs squish under the weight of his kick; the muscles shredding under the force, and the cracking of ribs reverberating through his entire body. The explosion of force was so great that his back ruptured, spitting blood and spinal fluid onto the rabbit’s mask. The death was instantaneous.
“NO!” The fox shouted, tears erupting from the eyelets of his mask. All the fire in the room extinguished as the air rushed towards the wolf’s arm. She pulled her arm back to prepare for a great swing, when suddenly a black aura ensnared it, and the arm immediately dissolved to liquid.
<hr>
Right when she was worried that he wouldn’t show up, the rabbit entered through the large auditorium doors. Thankfully it was hidden by her wolf mask, but she couldn’t help the giant grin that formed. He arrived just in time as well; the presentation was about to begin.
“mhm” a man with a lamb’s mask cleared his throat on the stage, a small black cloth obscuring some object being held in his left hand. She couldn’t care less about that. She ran over to the rabbit while waving, she was just about to call out to him before she saw the turtle behind the rabbit shaking her head no.
<hr>
In the doorway stood the short figure of the black star. It glanced towards the turtle, and with such, hundreds of ethereal black spikes suddenly manifested from the nothingness and impaled her. A quick cough of blood was the only thing she could muster before collapsing onto the ground.
The wolf was already on the floor, too distracted by her own attempts to scoop up her liquefied arm.
The air around the fox went cold and viscous. The fox wanted to fight, wanted to avenge his allies, his friends, but his body couldn’t move through the now congealed air and he too collapsed to the ground.
The black star looked toward the rabbit who returned a glare from under his mask poised for a fight. Any intimidation that the rabbit was aiming for was soon betrayed as the pink aura around his feet flickered and started to dissipate.
A loud bell chimed in the room despite their being no bell. A small pink rhombus grew out of the thin air in the center of the room. More things had arrived, and it was not time for the black star to reveal himself to the world; besides, the powers that be told him that the octopus and its orders would not be relevant for much longer. He wasn’t even certain if he could defeat the rabbit and whatever this pink rhombus was at the same time, so instead he just left.
Left in the room was the green turtle, convulsing in mortal agony; the grey wolf, grasping at her phantom limb; the red fox, trying to disentangle himself from his viscous confinement. The dead bodies of the brown bull and the white ; the pink rabbit staring at the strange being before him; and the pink rhombus, or it was a rhombus, but its body would reject any stable state. It would shift and transform, shrink and grow, continuously morphing into other shapes. The pink shape finally locked into a form resembling that of a featureless human with only one limb. The arm was outstretched towards the rabbit holding a glowing parchment: It read.
<table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 65.6619%; background-color: rgba(255, 213, 171, 1); border-color: rgba(235, 164, 57, 1); border-style: ridge" border="1">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="width: 100%; text-align: center">You have been invited to</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 100%; text-align: center">The Tournament</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 100%; text-align: center">You are The Reliquary</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>