May, Keeper of the Mutes

There was a haunted playground.

The floor there was covered in powdery soot. Everything was dark down there in Shandapidoor, but the dust coming off the floor somehow managed to be especially dark. And it smelled burned, like old charcoal.

The playground was little more than a few sets of broken down swings and slides. There was a pole in the middle of the playground. A string floated around the pole. A decapitated head grinned dumbly down at them, rotating on its string around the pole.

There were patches of purple grass with phosphorescent leaves which blew on the air, despite the fact that there was no wind. The darkness was stale and warm.

Then, out of the gloom, four figures in white cloaks approached Bun and Cao Nyut.

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“Who are you?” said Bun. He was afraid, but he put on his bravest face and dug his heels in. It was easy to make brave faces and dig your heels in when you knew a huge pachyderm was standing behind you, ready to fend off any attacks which came your way.

Despite Bun’s show of courage, the four figures in white cloaks carried on in his direction. Their cloaks were ragged, and their woven fabric glowed as if by some eerie inner light.

“Who are you?” Bun said again, louder this time. He felt Cao Nyut shift behind him and knew his friend was readying a spell in self-defense.

Then a fifth figure approached, seeming to materialize from the darkness.

“They are the mute ones,” said the fifth figure.

“And who are you?” said Bun. His voice wavered, but he kept his place in the sooty ground.

“I am called May,” said the figure. May pulled the hood of its cloak back over its head. Underneath was a white skull which radiated sickly greenish-white light. “I am she who speaks for them. I am also called Oracle, Seer, and Keeper of the Mutes.” Slowly, as if her back would break from the act, May bowed low to the ground. Then she straightened up to her full height.

“At your service.”