Throat parched. Eyes, skin dry. The rumbling of a hungry stomach. Movement. A breeze? No. What, then? His body was lead, too heavy to move. Although his eyes were closed the world tilted- tilted? What was happening? Rae tried opening his eyes. His body was put into an upright position and waves of darkness descended. He kept sinking, head under waves of consciousness. Between the waves, he caught glimpses of scents, sounds - were those people talking? He was never aware long enough for him to be able to tell - and movement. Always movement. It was like he was on a ship, jostled by the sea. But that didn't make sense. Hadn't he gotten off a ship a few days before? No. Not gotten off a ship. Crashed.

What had happened to the others? Parts of the crash came back to him but it was hard to pick reality out from something that surely was the stuff of dreams. He remembered something about a mission, getting help and- Rae felt sick to his stomach. He shook, buckling and hurling himself onto his side, the movement worsening his queasiness. He was going to throw up. There was a cry and Rae felt something shoved under his mouth but nothing came out and he lay - what was this divine feeling? was he on a bed? - back onto the bed, shaking slightly. He opened his eyes as he struggled to contain his breathing, face to face with a visage from nightmares.

A wooden mask stared back at him and Rae stilled, eyes wide. The mask seemed torn open, splashes of colour violently streaked across the rough bark. Sections of the mask retreated towards where he would expect the sides of a person's face to be, only those too were streaked with paint. There was an outline of soot where flesh ended and wood began. It looked like the mask had been burnt there, leaving behind skin. There were no eye or mouth sockets, but there was an indentation in the middle. It resembled anything but a nose, with jagged branches of colour splitting forth onto the rest of the mask from there.

Rae's heart beat against his chest; it seemed the only thing that was moving in this tempest of frozen horrors. Above the cacophony of his heartbeats lay the sound of heavy, somewhat muffled breathing. Rae held his breath. It persisted. The scream that broke out of him shocked the other into action. The masked figure lunged towards him, the bucket it dropped bouncing onto the bed and on the floor with a soft thump. Rae duly registered that he must be in a room - unless someone had placed a bed outside then built a covering above it. He sucked in another breath as he jerked backwards, about to scream again. The figure stopped moving after that, and Rae kept quiet, heartbeat erratic, trying to figure out what to do. Before he could come up with any concrete plan, he noticed it kept its hands out, palms forward, making placating motions. The scream broke out of him again.

Its bent fingers appeared to be made out of crude twigs, all jagged and ancient-looking. The figure sprang forward again, arms outstretched. Rae jerked his head back when they came near but they passed by him, reaching not for him, but for the bed stand on his right. He made a move to get off the bed, thinking to run, even to make a stand and try to fight whatever it was, but before he even made it to the other side, it was there, reaching across the bed and grabbing him. It dragged him by the neck of his shirt, closer, closer. For all his struggling and kicking he might as well have been a puppet made out of straw - dehydration and exhaustion had taken their toll, and they hadn’t taxed him lightly either.

The figure easily pulled him back, and then its bony fingers were on the sides of his head, holding it still. Rae screamed at the touch, clawing at the wood. His efforts got him nothing but splinters, and then its fingers were in his mouth, trying to force him to open it. A pail floated in the corner of his eyes and Rae clamped down on the twigs, panicking with new understanding. His teeth crunched through some of the fingers but the masked figure showed no signs of pain - no flinch, no pained breath, nothing - as Rae spit out the bark and fought to close his mouth.

Ever so slowly the pail floated closer, but his assailant was getting nowhere. It released his head and Rae tried to back away in the brief window of time, only it reached for him again, this time pinching his nose. He tried to hold his breath for as long as he could, but he soon felt faint, and gasped for air. Quick as a snake, the pail was in his face and pouring down his throat, then wooden fingers clamped his mouth closed, forcing him to swallow. Already weakened, it didn't take long for the oddly soothing liquid that was forced down his throat to take effect. Rae lost consciousness to the feel of fiendish wooden fingers trailing goosebumps on his face, the macabre mask in front of him a backdrop for his nightmares.

It wasn't true unconsciousness, not fully. Rae could still hear and feel things, but as if from underground. Everything came back muffled- no, not muffled, dulled. In that state of unconscious consciousness, he could feel himself panicking, but his body showed no signs of the turmoil inside of him. He was drenched in fear. He couldn't move his body. Why couldn't he move his body? What was happening? Rae tried his hardest to move his fingers, to open his eyes, to do something. Nothing. He let out a cry wherever he was and grabbed his head, pulling at his hair as he strained to open his eyes and see what was going on around him.

There! Light, shadows. A flash of something. A rustle of cloth, the feeling of a cool hand pressed against his forehead. Everything seemed both clearer and muddier. He strained, trying to replicate whatever he'd done before. Was he doing it? There was no sensory feedback, but the feeling of clearness intensified, the muddiness falling behind. Rae could feel it. He was getting closer. Just a bit longer, just-

There was a vague feeling of his body being moved in a sitting position, of someone opening his mouth and pouring something in. Just as Rae threw himself towards the light in front of him, he swallowed the liquid, and was pulled back into unconsciousness.

---

The second time he woke from his drug-induced rest, or, rather, the second time he was aware of his waking, he could open his eyes and move his body. Rae pushed himself up, groaning at the ache pulsing throughout his body. He looked around, taking note of his surroundings. He was in a sparsely decorated room, comfortable, but without much decoration. There was a chair next to the bed with an object propped against it. He narrowed his eyes, Willing himself to focus. It was brief, just a flash of heightened sight, and Rae blanched as he processed the now blurry object. It was a wooden mask. Like the one he'd seen before, this too was painted with colours. It's features were kinder than the other one - splashes of colour, and two swirls that could be taken for eyes - but Rae still cringed, phantom wooden-fingers trailing over his face as he gasped for air.

"It's okay! It's okay, you're okay!"

Rae forced his eyes away from the mask, looking in the direction of the voice. It sounded melodious, like something out of a performance at an inn, or a temple, with its quiet intensity and solemnity. He was drawn to a corner of the room, smothered in shadows. There was no one there - but there was also no one in the rest of the room.

"Who's there?" he called out, voice raspy. "Where are you?"

"Here." The shadows in the corner seemed to pull back, some of the gloom lightening.

Rae's eyes narrowed as he struggled to discern the humanoid shape underneath the darkness. "I can't see you. Is this a dream?"

"Real," the voice replied. "Will you remain calm if I put the mask on?"

He glanced at the mask sitting on the chair, apprehensive. "I..."

"I can explain everything to you. It would be simpler if we could go out so I could show you, but I don't want to cause another scene in you, and so you may choose."

"You can't go out without that mask on?"

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Despite no discernible movement, Rae got the impression that the person shook their head. "Everything will be explained in due time."

"As long as you won't drug me again, I'll be okay," he said.

The mask floated off the chair and towards the corner. Rae got a brief look of a hand snatching the mask out of the air before the shadows pulled back and the figure stepped out.

"Thank you."

Like with the first figure, the wooden mask reminded him of the inside of a tree hit by lightning; this one, too, seemed to meld with skin, and even the soot-outline between bark and skin was present. He let out a small noise, more shocked than afraid - although, he had to admit, even if he agreed to it, the whole appearance still intimidated him.

"What?" the figure stopped moving, hands clasped behind their back, out of sight. "Have you changed your mind?"

"No, it's just. How did you do," Rae gestured to his face, "that in such a short time? The soot."

The figure shrugged, beckoning him.

Rae got off the bed, nearly losing his balance in the process, his steps akin to a newborn fawn's first bumbling steps. He warded off help, pacing around the sides of the bed as he reworked feeling into his tired muscles. Surprisingly, he felt better, somehow. There were gaps in his memory, holes that his prodding couldn't patch up, but he did remember exhaustion, and terrible thirst and hunger. He wasn't entirely in tip top condition, but he no longer felt as tired; the thirst, too, was mostly gone.

The masked figure waited patiently while Rae got his feet under him, opening the door and ushering him into a hallway once he was ready. Rae stopped, jaw slack in amazement. The hallway seemed to come to life in front of his eyes, tree trunks servings as walls, their canopies as roofs. Light filtered in through the leaves, and there were nooks and crannies everywhere. Rae gasped. No, that wasn't it. The very leaves were the light source, softly glowing and pulsing, like fireflies. Some of the trees with alcoves in it were also glowing, from a soft, ephemeral glow, to a more strong shine.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes,” he breathed out.

The masked figure stepped in front of him and he followed, silenced by the sights. The mazes of hallways she led him down seemed to wind deeper and deeper towards the middle of whatever building they were in - if they were in one. They passed tree trunk after tree trunk, until Rae wasn't sure if they were even in a building; it seemed like a forest, except one like he never would've thought possible before. "What is this place?" he asked. "Where are we going?"

"This is... a temple, you could call it, or a safe haven. We're going to the courtyard. It'll be dinner soon, and you'll also understand more there."

"Alright. What should I call you? I'm Rae."

There was a brief hesitation before the figure replied. "You may refer to me as Talon - Talon of Leaves," she said.

"Nice to meet you, Talon."

They resumed walking in silence, until Talon stopped before an archway, blocking the entrance with an arm. Rae hadn't noticed that she also had twigs for fingers - as he looked more closely, he noticed that like the mask, it wasn't actually a part of her, but a costume, a sort of covering or extension for her fingers. He suppressed a shudder. Coverings as they might be, the twigs somehow acted like an extension of her body, and he remembered their wiry strength.

"What?" he asked, growing apprehensive. "Is something wrong?"

“It depends. There will be others in the courtyard.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Is it?”

Rae craned his neck to look through the entrance way, puzzled by Talon’s response.

“Will it be a problem for you?” she clarified, pointing at her mask.

‘Oh. That.’ He felt his face redden and he shook his head. “I’ll be fine.” He needed answers, and the walk from the room to the courtyard had also helped settle his nerves (even without much conversation between him and Talon). With the sense of peace to the whole complex, trilling birds, watchful trees - he couldn’t fathom being drugged again, or attacked. Even his guide’s mask now gave off a warm and composed impression, despite no changes to it.

Talon didn’t pull her arm back, looking at him. He couldn’t see her eyes through the mask, but he got the distinct feeling that she was watching him, searching for something inside of him. Finally, she nodded, allowing him inside.

Her warning did not prepare him. Stopping in the middle of the entrance, Rae’s eyes widened. If the hallways had been a thing of order and refuge, the courtyard was a thing of chaos. Masked figures dashed through it, carrying tables, chairs, or an assortment of plates. Others were at the sides of the courtyard, facing the encampment of trees. They were waving their hands, swaying slightly; he could hear the soft sound of chanting, and the light within the trees seemed to pulsate brighter. “Are they- what are they doing?” he asked after finding his voice.

Before Talon could answer, a figure approached them. The violent streaks of colour and ridge in the middle sent shivers of recognition down Rae’s backs.

The figure stopped right in front of them, dipping his head towards them. “Talon. Rescue.”

“Hello, Lynx.”

Rae fought the urge to step back; Lynx turned to face him, and he stiffened, but Lynx just kneeled down in front of him. “I want to apologise for frightening you. If I would've been more diligent you wouldn't have woken up and strained yourself. Please forgive me."

Rae stared, aghast, at Lynx kneeling before him, head touching the ground, hands raised in supplication. Out of all the scenarios running through his mind after recognising Lynx’s mask, this was certainly not something he’d even considered. He stammered, looking towards Talon for guidance. Met with an impasse expression - not that he’d seen any kind of expression on the masks, other than the initial, distinct impressions of feelings the colours seemed to give off - Rae turned back towards Lynx.

Here was the one person that Rae could blame for the holes in his memory from his drug-induced state, apologising to him, almost begging him for forgiveness. There was a mismatch between the memory of the mask looming above him, and this penitent figure. What was he to do?

Lynx’s hands were slightly shaking; he looked small, insignificant. Around them, the preparations for dinner continued - no one glanced at the three of them blocking off one of the entrances. “Allow me to mend things, then, please,” Lynx said. “Let me prove my remorse. I will do whatever you ask of me. Please.”

Swallowing his misgivings, Rae nodded. Awkwardly, he offered a hand to Lynx, to help him up. “It’s alright, there’s no need for that. It was just… an unfortunate misunderstanding. If anything, it’s my fault just as much as yours, or even more. No need to worry over this. Come, get up.”

Lynx raised his head, sharply drawing back from Rae’s proffered hand as if it burnt. “You don’t understand, I insist,” he begged, bowing down once more, somehow even deeper than before, as if he was sinking in the earth. “Allow me to redeem myself. Let me do something for you, anything, please!” He was becoming more and more frantic.

Averting his eyes, Rae spied a procession through one of the entrances. Led by one of the masked, the column was composed of maskless people, their long robes adorned with colourful sashes, flowers woven throughout.

The sight of the unmasked people fueled his curiosity - why had Talon refused to face him without the mask on? Why were those people parading about without masks? What was it with the colours and the masks - was it a separation of classes, an indicator of their role within the temple? The questions raged inside of him, a whirlwind of desire to see, to understand what had happened to him, to get answers. Talon’s promise of explanations lay forgotten as an idea popped into his head, and he crouched down in front of Lynx. “If you won’t accept my forgiveness without doing anything, what about this: will you take off your mask, so that you can look me in the eye and see for yourself that I don’t blame you?” Rae asked.

What happened next happened suddenly, unexpectedly. Talon made a slashing motion with her hand - Lynx slumped sideways. There was no time for Rae to cry out before two other masked ran in front of him, quickly grabbing Lynx by his shoulders and dragging him away towards an alcove in the wall of trees. Rae’s line of sight was covered; Talon stepped in front of him, pulling him towards one of the set tables. Too surprised to pull back, he let himself be pushed into a seat, his mind still fighting to catch up with what just happened. By the time he turned around to see where Lynx and the two figures had disappeared - the alcove he last saw them in was empty.

Turning around in his seat, Rae looked at Talon kneeling before him. “What in the Whims was that?” he demanded.

“I apologise. You shouldn’t have had to see that.”

“Nevermind that, what did you do to Lynx? Why?”

“He should have approached after I had a chance to explain our ways to you. Be certain, he will be dealt with appropriately.”

“Then punish me, not him! I’m the one that asked him to take that Whimsbegotten mask off.”

“Please,” Talon said, “stay seated. I will explain everything, but the feast is about to start. I shall attend you, and explain.”

Around them, the unmasked people began to fill in, taking their seats. Masked attendants mingled between the tables with food and drink, but there were also some that kneeled down behind the feasters, like Talon was kneeling behind his seat. Rae turned away from Talon, observing the courtyard. A masked attendant would approach an unmasked person, bowing. He couldn’t hear what was said, but words were exchanged, and the attendant would bow again before arranging themselves behind the chair. He could see some that were rejected with a flick of a hand -- those were escorted outside.

“Okay. Okay, fine,” Rae said, taking in a deep breath. “I think an explanation is long overdue.”

“As you wish. But first, please, eat.”