Fan Fiction Friday: The Man Behind the Masks – Part 30a

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“Are you still sulking?” Yasei said.

“No,” I replied, trudging back to Castle Town with chin permanently tucked.

She slipped her arm through mine. “Wonder what folks in town will say when you get back?”

“I don’t care.”

As we crossed the drawbridge, one Hylian guard jerked upright. He said nothing, eyes hidden beneath his helmet’s shadow, but the death grip on his pike told me enough.

A tingling bell heralded our return. Everything seemed in order and I greeted my masks that had waited so patiently. In many ways as their creator, they were like my children. Even when sold, I still had a bond with them. Did they lie abandoned at the bottom of a dusty drawer? Or where they displayed on a magnificent marble fireplace? I couldn’t help but wonder.

I lifted the latch from the shop counter and held it up for Yasei. Kilton followed without hesitation and bounded into the workshop. I didn’t bother to protest.

“Off my bed, please. There’s a good boy.” I pulled open the curtains.

He gave a huff then went to take a good sniff of his surroundings. My single bed lay in the furthest corner along with a stack of books on a small table. Designs and sketches littered the desk from my creative brainstorming. Swatches of dyed fabric hung on the drying rack with samples of ribbon, fur and feathers ready for sewing.

“What’s this?” Yasei had found one of my prototype designs. A crude and poorly carved mask that one of the children had asked me to make. It had to be as ‘spooky’ as possible apparently.

“You still carving masks from wood with a knife?”

I laughed at this. “No, my dear, I have moved with the times in the artistry of mask making and use the very latest techniques.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, and what techniques would they be?”

So, I told her everything. How I dabbled in the process of making masks from wax, although this was a rather messy process.

“Then I thought about leather, there are plenty of farmers ready to part with goat, pig and cow hides for the right price. Do you know, leather is a dream to work with, so supple, easy to cut and comfortable against skin?”

Yasei nodded. “I feel a ‘but’ coming?”

“Tanning,” I admitted. “Customers heard rumours about some of the more rustic ways to preserve animal skin.”

“Rustic?”

“Yes, the use of urine for example.”

Her nose wrinkled up. “That’s disgusting. The Kokiri use tanners like oak or spruce bark. It takes longer, bout eighteen months, but avoids the smell.”

“Is that possible?”

“Yep, tried it myself.” She leaned in closer. “And I tell you what, works a treat.”

“Hmm, if I could use more leather instead of velvet that would cut costs enormously. A single reel is at least a month’s wages.”

Yasei whistled. “I can believe that. You ever heard of a double cloth loom? Make your own and you could weave the silk and produce two pieces of velvet simultaneously. Just think of the profit.”

I grinned back. For a moment, I considered if this humble establishment could house two people and a husky. I could see us tending the shop together, but that wouldn’t be enough for Yasei. Once we had made all manner of interesting things, we could take the Trading Dragon 2, and hit the road. Perhaps given time even start a family.

“What time do they want us at the castle?” Yasei cut through my thoughts.

“I believe it was just after midday.”

She glanced at the cuckoo clock. “Jeez, we don’t have long. Right, you get tidied up and I’ll rustle up some grub.”

“Sounds perfect.”

Turning to the large trunk, I rooted to find a garment to make me halfway presentable. My spare shirts felt cold to touch after being away for so long. I remembered the sparse Gerudo costume that Kavia forced me to wear and chuckled. But a sudden stitch in my heart reminded me that she was no longer alive.

I was about the close the lid, when I came upon a curious object. A painted face of two halves: one frowning red and one smiling white peeked back through the coloured cloth.

Wait, I locked you away.  Immediately, my gaze went to the floorboards beneath the bed.

Now in my hands, the mask seemed to vibrate. Black oozing tears trickled down gaping eye holes. A wheezing gasp echoed throughout the workshop and something burrowed through the cheek of white. Were they worms? Maggots? I tried to let go, but it clung like glue. Kilton barked.

“Get away,” I hissed. “Don’t touch it.”

My four-legged friend whined with concern.

“Ronri?”

Now maggots crawled over my knuckles, wriggling to my wrists, up my arms. Carter’s mask had become more flesh like with skin, freckles and stray hair. I gasped as two blood shot eyes blinked at me and then a tug at my shirt.

“It’s filthy. Don’t touch it, stupid mutt. Why won’t you ever listen?”

Yasei grabbed my shoulders. “Hey, stop yelling at him, moron. You’re not even holding anything!”

“Of course, I’m holding -”

I looked again. There was nothing there.

Another illusion, I realised. “Carter’s mask. I saw Carter’s mask.”

“Sweetheart, who in Hyrule is Carter?”

“He…” I stopped. He was a traitor. He tried to kill me. He became a mask; my thoughts betrayed me. “He was a soldier that saved my life in the war,” I croaked, “but he died.”

I didn’t expect the hug. Sudden warmth against my back, lips pressed to my temple chasing away the chills.

“Coming back here brought up a few nightmares, huh?”

“Yasei, I, er…” My eyes stung. By Ganon’s breath, just tell her, my conscience screamed.

“Still not up for talking?” She gave a deep sigh.

“I can’t, not now. Let’s just see the King and get this over with. Then I promise I’ll tell you everything.”

Featured Image: Alison Patten

Alison Otwl continues her fan fiction at Zelda Dungeon. She likes reading manga and collecting Japanese wind chimes. Her favorite Zelda game is Ocarina of Time. Check out more of her fanfiction over at: Otwl.