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Mask
Beginnings 1

Beginnings 1

“Will you conquer, or will you be consumed?”

The question rang through my consciousness as everything around me started to fade into black. Faintly I heard voices calling out, shouting names. For some reason I got the feeling that name was my own… but I couldn’t quite make it out or remember it. A faint and fading memory, and soon it was gone.

When my eyes opened I was greeted by the bright blue of a clear sky. I had to blink a few times to adjust my eyes, the brightness blinding, as if I had just woken up from a nap in a dark room and someone suddenly opened the windows.

Once my eyes were finally adjusted I took a moment to look around. I was in some sort of large field, recessed into a valley between two large hills. In almost every direction there was a field of grass and flowers as far as the eye could see. Odd, I didn’t quite recognize the blue and pink flowers forming a circle around me, nor the strange insects that flitted about them.

Oddly enough the field seemed to be a sort of funnel, hills on either side of me practically forcing my attention to a little village nestled at the base of both of them. From this distance it looked idyllic. Like something out of a fairy tale.

Curious, I had no memory of this village. Or even of this place. Or much of anything really. Trying to dig deep into my own mind I find myself drawing a complete blank. Where I am and even who I am were lost to me. Amnesia. That was the word. Odd that I knew that but not much of anything else.

Well, maybe that wasn’t the only thing I knew. Something in the back of my mind was telling me that this wasn’t normal. Flashes that amounted to barely a hint of a memory told me I was used to something… bigger. Grander. This tiny village seemed more like something out of a fairy tale. Which one, I couldn’t say, but it was not the norm for me.

Not like I had any choice but to go toward it, regardless. Sitting alone in a field of grass wearing… What was I even wearing? Looking down I seem to be sporting a blue.. Tunic? Was that the word? Close enough, or as close as my fractured memories could get me, regardless. The worrying part was that even though the tunic was long like a dress, I was bare underneath it.

I’ve enough wit about me to know that a half dressed girl all alone wasn’t a winning prospect for me. I moved to stand, and something dropped to the ground beside me. A mask. I picked it up to study it.

The mask is plain. Designed to cover just the top half of one’s face and made of a white material that was smooth to the touch and slightly cool. The white of the mask was only interrupted by three circles painted in black. Two of them corresponded where one’s eyes would be while the third sat in the middle of the mask's forehead. Thin lines connected them together to form a sort of triangle.

For some reason staring into the ‘eyes’ of the mask left me feeling a bit unnerved, but I found it hard not to meet their empty gaze. Something told me this mask was important, but I couldn’t trust if that was a lost memory or just a gut feeling.

No point in worrying about it right now but best to take it along, just in case. Not that I had any pockets though, so I was left to awkwardly carry it at my side while I make my way toward the village.

It was probably about a mile’s distance, but the fact that I was constantly having to walk down hill led to me stumbling a few times. No serious trips, but more than I had thought. A nagging in the back of my head told me that I should be more graceful but it was quickly forgotten as I closed the distance to the village.

The walls surrounding it are basic, barely more than wooden stakes sticking out the ground in a row. It works, I suppose, but it wasn’t pretty.

An opening in this wall served as the village’s entrance from this direction, and as one would expect for a medieval fantasy setting there was a guard house situated in front of it. I had enough sense about me to try and seem as innocent and not suspicious as possible as I approached. If this was a fantasy setting like in a book or something I’d surely find an adventurers guild or similar inside.

So I approach the guard house as non-threateningly as possible. Even offered the guard inside a wave, before realizing that might seem weird and let my hand drop awkwardly to the side. The guard eyes me from behind the slit in his helmet and I couldn’t quite figure out what expression he was making.

The guards shoulders raise and lower in what I could only assume to be a sigh. He gets up and grabs a large pole arm from the wall of the guard house before stepping outside. The clinking of his chain armor and the slight rustle of his tabard in the wind were the only sounds punctuating this tense moment.

He steps toward me and I quickly realize that he was tall. Either that or I just happened to be very short. Was I always this short?

My thoughts were interrupted by the man clearing his throat and speaking to me in a deep voice, “Another one, huh?”

I tilt my head and respond, “Another one?” My voice felt alien somehow. Something inside of me was telling me this wasn’t my voice. At least not the one I’ve always known. But the gaps in my memory were too large, so all I had was this gut feeling to go on.

“Yeah. Another one. You know. A golem.” He responds like he was explaining common knowledge to a child.

Golem. I knew that word. A name for an artificial being, like a robot made of clay or something. But surely he couldn’t be referring to me, right? Looking down at my hands and bare feet they look and feel like flesh. I could feel my heart beating… I had memories… Kind of. “W-what do you mean… by golem?”

He seems perplexed by her question, “Huh, I just thought you were parroting me… didn’t think you could ask questions. Most golems are usually all...” He raises his hands in front of him, groaning and shuffling in a zombie like fashion.

“Well… that’s because.. I’m human. I think.” I respond, stuttering due to the still unfamiliar nature of my voice.

He shook his head, “No. You can’t be.You came from the valley, just like every golem. Maybe you’re a new type, but you’ve got to be a golem. Only thing that makes sense. Got rules, ya know. Gotta follow them.” He keeps his tone level, and steps toward me. Something at his side caught my eye as he walked. Gleaming in the sunlight, a pair of manacles.

I take a step back fearfully, “No… that can’t be. I’m human! I swear! I have a life!” I pause at those last words. Did I have a life? I had no memories, just faint inklings of something being off. Why was I so insistent on this, when I had nothing to back up my claims… what if he was right?

That single moment of hesitation was all he needed to get the mannacles around my wrists, and my heart sank as the sound of them clasping shut reached my ears.

“Please…” I pleaded to him, trying to catch any sort of emotion from behind that helmet. All I got was a momentary diversion of his eyes away from me.

The guard shakes his head, “I have to enforce order. This is something that’s been set in stone longer than I’ve been alive. That field.” He points to where I had come from, “It has a special magic. Every week a new golem steps out of it. Without fail. That is what you are.” He grabs me by the front of the tunic and shoves me toward the gates. The mask I was holding fell out of my hands and onto the grass. I felt a momentary panic as I tried to reach for it, but the guard was brooking no interruptions to his task and pushed me forward. “Let’s… let’s get you inside.” There was just the slightest hint of emotion in his voice.

My feet weren’t cooperating with me, so the guard gave me a less than gentle nudge with the shaft of his pole arm. He was muttering something to himself under his breath. Something I could barely make out, “-ust a golem… e’s not real…” He was reassuring himself, telling himself he was doing the right thing. That it was ok I was placed in bondage… because I wasn’t a person.

I felt the urge to run. To fight. To do anything, but fear stays my hand. I barely needed any testing to realize the mannacles were solid, and I lacked the strength to break them. I had no tricks up my sleeves, nor any sleeves to hide tricks in. The situation was hopeless, and it took everything I had not to burst into tears on the spot.

Any possibility of running vanished as he reached up to put a collar around my throat, attached to a leash that was tightly wrapped around his pole arm. This was it. I’ve had life for a grand total of two hours and already I was going to lose my freedom. My eyes darted to my surroundings, looking for anything or anyone that could save me from this situation… but I found nothing.

The guard seems to pick up on my trepidation and clears his throat once more before speaking, “I… maybe you’ll just be a house golem. Won’t be too bad.” He glances over his shoulder and gives me a once over, “Don’t look like much of a fighter, and kind of small. You won’t be sent to the pits or the mines… unless…”

“You could let me go?” I offer. His response was a tightening of the grip on his pole arm.

That told me all I needed to know. There was no way he was going to let me go. My vision started to become occluded as tears came unbidden to my eyes. We walk in silence, save for the occasional sniffle I attempted to stifle.

The path we walked took us through the center of the village. The place was quiet, almost too much so. Not a single person out on the cobblestone streets. Every window and door tightly shut, and it almost seemed like even the insects had vacated this place. I wasn’t given much time to ponder these things before reaching our destination though.

I blink my eyes to clear them of the clinging tears. Before us was a large square structure made of roughly hewn stones. It was probably three stories high with no distinguishing features on it other than a single red tapestry depicting a golden dragon on it above the doorway.

The entrance was less a door and more just a hastily carved slab of wood with a ring attached to it. The guard reaches forward and grabs the ring, pulling on it with great effort. The door eventually starts to move, ever so slowly, until it was open just enough for us to slip through.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The insides reminded me of a prison. The kind you’d see in old timey movies about fantasy settings. Movie… why did I know that word and not other things? A type of entertainment, I recall. Something I used to enjoy, I like to think.

The hallway we passed through was bare, with occasional torches interspersed along the wall to light the way. The fire from the torches did little to heat up the place and the absence of windows meant this place’s atmosphere was stiflingly cold. The chill seeps into my bones and I can’t help but shiver and my feet ache as the bare skin touches the almost freezing slabs of rock that made up the floor. The guard steps closer to me as we walk and even if just a little I could feel his body heat. Small comfort, but if I let myself think it was intentional it was something.

Passing through a second door we entered a larger central chamber. The room was circular in shape with a large door opposite of the one we just entered at the other side of the room. In the center of the room was a large circle, inside of which was the image of a massive dragon. Unlike the heraldry outside though, this dragon wasn’t gold filigree, but instead seemed to be burned into the floor.

Lining the walls of this chamber were prison cells, each being roughly the same size and inset into the walls.. The torches were too dim to brighten the dark recesses that were barely large enough for a single person to turn around. Whether they were occupied or not, I couldn’t tell. Each cell had an entrance made of rusty iron bars. Or at least I hoped that reddish orange material was rust, and not something more terrible.

The guard shoves me forward to the only door that didn’t lead to the cell. It was large, much like the entrance, but this one had some care put into it. Rose gold inlay decorated it, and just like everything else around here draconic imagery was prominent along the entire length of the wood.

The guard knocks twice and waits patiently. Eventually, after what felt like an agonizingly long time, the door opened. A man dressed like a butler greeted them. He had grey hair tied back in a long ponytail, and his mustache and beard were braided together and hung down his front. “Ah…” He spoke in a raspy voice, “You’ve brought a new tool.”

The butler's blue-gray eyes give me a once over and he shrugs. “Small, this one. But it is of no import. Come in, the master awaits.”

I try to make myself small, as if I could hide behind the guard. I knew he was no friend of mine, but he seemed at least somewhat sympathetic, and that was better than the cold gaze the old butler had given me.

The room we entered was ornate. While the last chamber was definitely reminiscent of a prison this looked more like a throne room. Rugs of the most vibrant red and golds lined the floor and a chandelier hung from the ceiling, spinning ever so slightly to send scattered reflections through the crystals hanging from it. It almost felt comfortable here, thanks to a roaring fireplace fighting back the chill permeating the rest of the stone structure.

The centerpiece of the room was a large throne made entirely of gold. It was forged in such a way that it looked more like it had been cast from multiple corpses thrown into a pile together in the rough shape of a chair, before having molten gold poured over it. Each of the faces present in the chair was contorted into a look of agony. I hoped it was just a really accurate rendition, because the other reality was just far too grim to think about.

In the chair sat a short and squat man. His face seemed like it was too small for his head, with his eyes being just a little too close together and his mouth barely existing behind the bulges of his pudgy cheeks. He was dressed in a fashion that reminded me of a king from some sort of fantasy epic. Bright colors, a flowing cape and a crown with jewels reflecting every color in the rainbow. The few wisps of grey hair he still had stuck out awkwardly from the opening in the top of the crown. As I’d seen on most of the decor here, dragons danced along the length of his cape.

The ‘king’ taps the arm of his throne with a small wooden gavel. “Speak. What’d you bring me today?” His voice was on point with what I expected from the man. Small and a little squeaky. The kind of voice a cartoon bully you were meant to hate might have.

My escort shoves me in front of him and I stumble, falling to my knees. The king chuckles at this and leans forward in his throne, straining to get a better look at her. “I was hoping to get another fighter.” He squeaked at the guard. “This one barely looks like it can hold its own weight.”

The guard clears his throat, “She uh… she can talk. Might be useful.”

“Hah. They all can talk. And don’t humanize it.”

The guard shakes his head, “No… I mean she- it can actually talk. It understood what I was saying. It asked questions.” He put emphasis on that part and the king sat back down on his throne, stroking his fat chin.

“How do you know it’s not just repeating questions it heard asked before?” The king taps a finger idly on his throne as he continues to stare me down. Despite the tunic I felt oddly exposed before him and wrapped my arms around myself to preserve some sense of modesty.

“It wasn’t. It just came from the valley. Pretty sure I’m the first real human it saw.”

“You’re sure about that?”

The guard nods and swallows audibly, “Yeah. I think I’d stake my life on that. This one’s different. And I don’t know if that’s a good thing.”

The king slumps back into his throne and puts two fingers to his forehead, “Ugh did you bring me a headache, then? It’s still a golem, right? No reason to over think it. Just throw it into a cell like the rest, and we’ll let its potential buyer figure out what to do with it.”

The mention of being thrown in a cell sent a shiver down my spine. To me it sounded effectively like a death sentence. I couldn’t break out of these mannacles, there was no way I was making a prison break.

The king sat up straight and licked his lips greedily, “ I bet I could get a good amount of coin for this one though. Not often we get a golem that isn’t overly large and masculine.” If I felt exposed before the feeling was worse now, with the way he was hungrily leering at me.

The guard took a half step in front of me, partially obscuring me from the ugly little man. “I imagine she’d be worth a lot. Especially if she’s kept pristine.” He tries to make his point very clear.

The king once again huffs and falls back into his throne, his posture lazy and unbefitting of royalty. “Fine, fine. Throw it in a cell and let’s be done with it. I’ll have buyers coming by this afternoon anyways.” He sounded annoyed.

The guard gives him a stiff bow and grabs me up off my feet, practically dragging me from the room as I attempt to get my feet back under me. Once we’re out of earshot of the noble I whisper to the guard, “Thank you…”

The man shushes me and speaks through gritted teeth, “It wasn’t for you… just… it’s better for business if our golems are in top shape. That’s it.” He seemed to be trying to convince himself more than he was me.

He brings me to one of the cells in the circular room, unlocking it with a key hanging from his waist and shoving me inside. Again I find myself unable to keep my footing. Something told me this was because my center of balance was off… because this body wasn’t the one I was used to. The thought terrifies me.

I scramble to get back to my feet and to face the guard, just in time for him to slam the cell door shut in my face. He doesn’t speak, barely even looks at me as he reaches between he bars to grab my wrists. He takes another key and undoes my mannacles. I gently rub my wrists where the mannacles had been chafing them, “Thank you.”

He doesn’t respond, silently leaving me alone.

I wanted to scream. I could feel it bubbling up within me, desperate to come out but again I found myself paralyzed with fear. Fear that my screaming would lead to something worse happening to me. I knew I was in for a terrible fate already, but self preservation instincts were hard to push past.

So I decided to focus on what I can do, safely. I look around my cell. It was small, but thankfully so was I. If I were an averaged sized male I’d probably be feeling very claustrophobic but as far as I was aware I was just a below average sized female. Yay me.

Inside the cell was a short bench suspended from the back wall, I assume this is meant to be my bed but it seemed far too small for anyone to get comfortable on. Maybe golems, like they thought I was, didn’t need to rest.

There wasn’t much else of note in this cell. A small hole in the corner near the ‘bed’. Was that where I was supposed to deposit my waste, or just an accident in construction? Part of me thought that golems probably didn’t excrete anything, if they weren’t alive. That notion didn’t bode well for me, because while it wasn’t urgent I did feel the urge creeping up on me.

Trying to push that to the back of my mind I notice the hole has a puddle of water in it, and the angle my cell was at allowed me a little more light from the torches than some of the others. Curiosity took hold of me and I peered over the hole, trying to get a glimpse of myself.

It didn’t make for a good mirror, but I could make out some details. My hair was red and short for a girl. It was hard to tell but my eyes were either green or a shade of grey. None of this seems to track with that nebulous self image locked away in my memories and only expressed through my gut feelings. This was concerning.

I couldn’t say my curiosity was wholly satisfied but I didn’t really have much to work with. A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I take one more look around the cell, quickly realizing I’d exhausted all there was to look at. Weariness urged that I at least take the opportunity to sit.

I was surprised at how much tension I had been carrying in my body. Sitting down and taking a moment to breathe helped to relax my muscles. I had apparently been tensing muscles I didn’t even know I had this whole time and a wave of relief washes over me as I give myself this moment to breathe.

But finally letting myself relax, even just that little bit, causes the flood gates to open up. I feel something wet fall on to my fists, clenched in my lap. It took a moment to realize that these were tears, pouring forth like a faucet.

It wasn’t fair. Human or golem it was obvious she was alive and sentient. So why was everyone ignoring this fact? Why? I slam my fist down hard on the wooden bench, instantly regretting the action as pain radiated upwards from the impact.

“Fuck…” I murmured between sobs, “Why… why is this happening?” I bring my closed fists up to my face, grinding the heels of my palms into my eyes as if I could plug the flowing tears with enough pressure. It, of course, did not work.

As much as I wanted to try to keep my anguish quiet it became harder and harder by the minute, and soon enough I was openly sobbing with no regard to the noise it made. I fell on to my side on that tiny bench and curled up into a fetal position.

The ugly sobs escaping my throat almost cause me to miss the sound of something moving, scraping against the floor, in my cell. The realization I wasn’t alone makes me shoot straight back up into a sitting position, drawing my knees to my chest as my eyes nervously dart about the chamber.

Fear overcomes my sorrow and I go stark quiet.

The scratching stops, and then something clatters to the ground in front of me. Peeking over my knees I see it.

The mask I had dropped earlier. It was laying on the floor of my cell before me. How? Did someone drop it in here when I was busy crying? Had I picked it up and forgotten about it? No, that was impossible. I had no pockets after all.

I timidly slid myself off the bench, inhaling sharply as my bare feet were once again subjected to that icy stone. I stay low to the ground as I practically duck walk over to the mask silently. I pick the mask up, holding it arm's length as if it could explode or do something crazy at any moment.

“Finally.” A haughty feminine voice rang out inside my skull.

I let out a sound that could be described more as a squeak than a scream and tossed the mask away, causing it to bounce off the low ceiling of the cell and come crashing to the floor.

“Bitch!” The same voice from earlier, though this time dripping with annoyance.

But I was the only one in the room? Who could possibly be speaking to me?

“You really are a dull one aren’t you?” The voice came again, with no apparent speaker. There really wasn’t anywhere to hide in this cell, and I had a clear view of the central chamber which lay currently empty.

“Down here, idiot.” Down? But… the only thing down there…

The mask.

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