“Oh Courts!” Alena groaned, thankfully hidden away in the four walls of her room at the Skinned Lizard.

“What?” Rethi asked, a little confused, thumbing the mask he held out proudly to her with a sudden worry, “Is there something wrong with it?” Rethi looked down at the mask, made of a similar metal as his was, though much shiner and more polished than his own, duller mask.

“No! It’s fine…” Alena looked at the mask closer, her expression warring with itself. The mask was actually pretty, artistic even. In contrast to Rethi’s very muted mask, dull in expression and lustre, her own was almost a crafted masterpiece. As far as she was concerned anyway.

They had gone to get it commissioned after Maximilian gave them their task, a necessary component for their ‘plan’ to work. Maximilian had done them a favour by letting them come up with as much of the plan as possible, aside from the main part of it, but Alena couldn’t shake the feeling that Maximilian’s mere presence had guided their plan to be exactly what he’d have wanted anyways.

“It looks good, I swear.” Rethi said, brows furrowed as he tried to surmise what Alena’s problem with it was. He didn’t guess right, and Alena let him know with a thump to his side at her full strength. He winced dramatically, though the likelihood he actually experienced any pain was almost zero.

“It’s not that!” She exclaimed with mock outrage, before deflating, “But I didn’t know that it was going to look so much like my mother, you know?”

Rethi turned the mask towards him, looking at it pensively for a moment. That made more sense to the boy, and it was a strange moment of revelation as he stared at what his girlfriend’s mother would look like.

“It’s nice to meet you ma’am.” He said, bowing solemnly. There was a moment of stunned silence before Alena smacked the back of his bowed head as hard as she could.

“Don’t be an idiot, Rethi!” She said as she snatched the mask out of his hands, taking a glance at the features of the cool metal mask in her fingers. She wouldn’t admit that she was blushing and on the verge of tears from the sentiment, and Rethi was smart enough to not rub it in, but she hadn’t realised that it had almost been a part of her that was missing.

How badly she wanted to talk with her mother one last time, to tell her at least that she’d found someone she might marry one day, and the adventure she’d embarked on just recently that was somehow both the shortest and longest days of her life.

She hadn’t expected to receive what was basically a metal mask of her mother’s face, but when they had gone to Venn, the Gek information broker, and explained what they wanted him to help them get their hands on, he had given them directions instead of asking for them to wait for the completed product.

She had relied on Rethi to understand what to do, but apparently he had just let the Gek man do the legwork for him, something that was a benefit to the bland mask that had wanted. Because when you were the greatest source of light in the worlds, second only to the sun itself, you didn’t need a fancy mask.

They had gone to a blacksmith, though she couldn’t remember the specific title that the grizzled older man had used. The man, contrary to his looks, had been extremely kind and even gentle with his questions and when he’d taken measurements. He was probably in his seventies at least, his hands and skin pockmarked with burn scars and other little wounds that he’d accrued over the years.

You’d expect him to be stoic and brusque, but maybe it was something about Alena’s appearance, or some vague relation to a daughter or a granddaughter he might’ve had once upon a time.

The process had been painless, and they had agreed upon simply a guise of an aged version of herself. More the woman that she was slowly becoming over years, than the childish features that she was growing out of.

The result she hadn’t expected was her own mother’s face. Or as close to it as someone could get without ever seeing her directly.

“I’m not sure I can wear this, Rethi.” She said, hastily continuing as Rethi opened his mouth to speak, “Not just because it looks like my mother. But also because… I don’t know, it’s just embarrassing!” Rethi, scrunching his eyes closed as if he were suffering pain.

“Uh, wait, wouldn’t it be less embarrassing than going around with no mask?” Alena looked even more conflicted, the mixture of worry and embarrassment on her face making Rethi almost giggle with a secret joke.

Alena, as always, caught the expression and glared at him unhappily.

“What’s that look for, mister!” She said, putting her hands on her hip, almost hiding the mask behind her back as she did so. Her boyfriend didn’t bother to make an effort to look called out, just grinning instead.

“Look, I think it’ll be fine. I think you’re projecting something else onto the mask, Alena.” He walked towards her, ignoring the glare, and hugging her into his muscled form, gently brushing a hand through her somewhat frizzy black hair.

“How dare you call me out like that.” She whispered into his chest, not even using the tone of mock offense. He chuckled; the noise so much louder as she had the bone of her cheek against his warm muscle.

“There is a reason we’re wearing those masks. Remember when Max told us about Superheroes?” She nodded into his chest, “They used public identities to keep eyes away from their private ones. So they can go save the world and come home for dinner with their family that same night.”

“He also said that they were stupid disguises that fit with their stupid moralistic view of the world.” She countered, though right after she could just about feel the retort build in Rethi’s chest.

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“And he then told us that he wasn’t any better.” He said, amusement captured in a lift of an eyebrow. Alena grumbled along with the words sourly, knowing exactly the conversation he was talking about.

“I know.” She said with an exasperated sigh, “And I know that I signed up for this, but actually doing it?” Rethi doted on her gently as she went silent, both of them standing in contemplative silence.

“It feels way different.” Rethi said, completing her sentence. She nodded, her forehead bumping against the firm muscle that laid just underneath his rough shirt. But he didn’t let her lose herself in the embrace, pulling away with his trademarked, lopsided grin.

“So, all that’s left is to face it head on!”

----------------------------------------

This, Alena realised, was a bad idea.

She hadn’t realised how terrifying having every set of eyes glued to her would be, let alone the Reptilia’s eyes, which were much more primally terrifying due to their slight iridescence in the stark sunlight.

Alena now wore the metal mask, overlaying her features and replacing them with a far womanlier version of herself. The shiny mask stood out even further under the darkness of her hood and hair, almost seeming like a head was floating within the dark hood of her thick traveller’s cloak.

Rethi also wore a similar getup to her, though his dull mask wasn’t anywhere near as clearly defined as her own. In fact, if someone were to hazard a guess, they’d think Rethi was her inferior in station. If only they knew.

They walked the streets solemnly, the main streets they roamed weren’t really the main interest, just the first appearance to the gawking crowd. And it worked, too, because almost every set of eyes were just about plastered to her and Rethi’s forms, watching and waiting for them to do something.

It was likely that they believed her and Rethi to be religious zealots of some sort. Who else would run around in metal masks and cloaks in broad daylight? That’s what Alena would think of first, anyway.

They didn’t stop to speak, nor did anyone stop them, so they simply walked the well-maintained roads towards the poorer districts, the southern most regions of Crossroads. Alena could see the shift happen before her eyes, from the decadence of the north, to the borderline destitution of the south. It was almost harrowing, like it was when she’d made the trip down to meet Rethi at his home. Especially that last time, with the anxiously beating heart and shaky hands.

It wasn’t long until they’d stepped foot into the streets that they found themselves in a different world entirely. This was no longer Crossroads; this was a maze of destitution. The claustrophobic walls closed in around the pair as they delved deeper, somehow sucking the light from the atmosphere as they travelled deeper inwards.

Neither of them had been this deep into almost any part of Crossroads’ sectors, and Alena immediately regretted that she’d looked any closer into the city she already knew was corrupt. The walls seemed as though they were slathered in dust and grime, though made wet by the rain from the night before.

The streets were cobblestone, the grime on them only making them dangerously slippery under Alena’s feet. A few times she managed to save herself from slipping, thankfully not showing the strange movements too much, obscured by the cloak she wore.

She moved with a little help from Rethi, whose own movements were entirely unimpeded by the slippery stone. They couldn’t initially see the eyes that were following them, but they could feel them like pinpricks of heat on their necks. They weren’t predatory, or even all that hostile.

Just… wary.

They roamed those streets as confidently as they could, but their mission was off to a bad start. Though, expecting some injured person to simply walk in front of them was almost ludicrous. The weak and injured would stay hidden from the world, in the darkest recesses they could find themselves in.

They walked further and further in, looking for a place that they could use, a spot that would be optimal for their hastily thrown together plan. And it wasn’t long until they found it.

A small square area, only maybe ten by ten, sat as a junction between five colliding streets, all coming in towards the small open area at odd angles. Standing in the centre of the square, under the only real significant exposure to the sky, Alena could see down the winding valleys of buildings circling her, almost dizzying in their claustrophobic tightness.

But Rethi’s hand came down on her shoulder, almost as if pushing her to the ground and anchoring her, pulling her from the swirling anxiety that she’d not even noticed she’d been falling deeper into. When her shoulders fell, assuaged from her fears, Rethi decided to move the first piece.

Radiance.

Radiance was the word that Alena had to use for her boyfriend’s light. It was intense beyond belief, the heat of its rays somehow penetrated through the thick cloak and clothing underneath, bathing every inch of her skin in its warm glow. In that moment, she knew that each and every person in the houses even remotely close could feel the light touching them the same way.

“You may question who we are, if word has yet spread to you,” Rethi’s tone rumbles lightly, deep enough to be considered a full man’s voice, “I am Midday, and you now know that my Light is that of Divinity. We have come to help, to heal those that so desperately need it, and do not have the means to seek treatment. My partner will perform a shifting art on you to heal your wounds.”

He waited for a moment, the sound of his voice echoing far further than it should have if he were simply yelling. She didn’t know how he’d enhanced his voice, but it was as if the light he shed around him like a halo was singing with his words.

“If you are sick or injured. I urge you to come forth and be healed by her hand. Return with confidence to your life beyond the poor health you have been dealt.”

He didn’t sing praises, or call upon the higher powers to convince and deceive the masses. All he did was ask, and Alena almost dared to suspect that it was enough.

The silence was deafening. A pin wouldn’t just make a sound, but it would be as if someone had dropped a metal saucepan from a second story building. There was no movement to be seen, even the small coughs and shuffling that could barely be heard before was now gone, feeling as if someone had cut a hole in the world itself and removed it entirely.

Alena held her breath, almost terrified that there would be movement in the first place. The dread built and built until, with a jolt, a sound echoed through the long corridors of buildings. It was only the soft murmuring of a voice, but it carried down the streets as if it were yelling. Though it did certainly become a yell, and even though Alena couldn’t possibly discern the words.

There was a loud bang as a door opened, slamming against the hard stone behind it as a man, half dressed and thoroughly dishevelled, stumbled out into the street almost one hundred metres away from where he sat.

A voice hissed from within the building, likely commanding him to come back inside, but he whirled around woozily.

“What?” He yelled with a weak rage, “You really think I’m getting better from this, Ma? It’s been weeks!”

The man stumbled slightly, not quite able to keep his footing with how atrophied his muscles looked. As he walked towards the two hooded figures, his face filled with some fear, but a greater mortal fear far overrode it. He had just about made it to where Alena and Rethi stood, but a small clearing of the throat became a cough, and that cough became a hacking, terrible thing, somewhere stuck between vomiting and violent spasm.

When he finally pulled his arm away from his face, it was covered in blood, adding to the already dried blood that was caked on. He managed to walk the last few steps, sweat dripping from his brow as he fell to one knee, more out of exhaustion than of any servitude.

“Well,” he said, milky red spittle dripping from his lips, “you said you could fix me?”