With a sigh, Cheshie clasped her already raised hand over Tullus’s mouth, her eye locking with his in an emotionless glare.
“I’m fine, just need a minute.” She replied, cracking an unexpected smile.
“Name’s Cheshie. Chesh for short. Okotan guardswoman.” She said as she took her hand away from Tullus’s mouth, instead extending it for a hand shake.
“And you all are…?” She said, glancing around the room at the various Okotans gathered there. (@GoodGuy2006 @MakutaOisli @Rukah )
“I’m, uh, Katau.” Katau said nervously. Then he glanced at Makuta and added,
“Dueling a Mask Maker wasn’t quite what I was expecting.”
“Yeah,” Cheshie said with a grunt, propping herself up with one hand behind her. “me neither. Coulda gone worse.” She shrugged.
“You think so?” Katau replied derisively.
“I mean, we’re still standing, right?” She then seemed to notice her own position on the floor. “Well, most of us.” Her attention then flicked to Makuta, who was menacing the jungle Okotan in the corner. “For now.”
“I suppose introductions are in order. I am Henan, a carver.” He then proceeded to take off his mask and cough into his arm, his dry coughs followed by wheezes. When he was done, He said, “And as you can see,its not very good for my health. I don’t now why, but Makuta has wanted me here.”
Palios crept closer to the door, Very soon his ingenious plan to end Makuta’s rampage would begin. as Palios lifted his hand to deliver the oh so crucial knock it hit him… The door that is; The force of it suddenly flying open was not only enough to send him backpedaling into the nearest wall and subsequently knock over various items in the process, but it also really hurt.
“Cool, cool, I’m just gonna continue to lay here… Catch my breath.” In truth, Palios wasn’t too winded. He was, In fact, too afraid of the possible embarrassment that would come in admitting the fact that he still couldn’t see- In fact why hadn’t his vision cleared yet that entire kerfuffle felt like it had taken hours yet here he was…still lying on the ground… Still covered in junk… still unable to see.
Ilya …
Didn’t flinch.
For the barest second, other thoughts flashed through Ilya’s mind. First, thoughts of defense. He wasn’t suicidal, and the Makuta was clearly more dangerous up close. It had been tactical, not cowardly. Ilya had few real weapons. He had only just been appointed leader, he-
He no longer cared. He stared almost straight up, doing his best to meet Makuta’s towering gaze. What had once been awe-tinted disdain had shifted to weakly masked loathing.
He regretted it immediately. Of course he cared. He didn’t want to become disgrace, to be branded a pariah by a Mask Maker. Maybe he had never asked for - let alone wanted - leadership. But that didn’t mean that subservience was a desirable or viable alternative.
Failure. That word stung like memories, but with the sting came a morbid humor. Makuta called him a failure, in this. But Makuta was wrong. Ilya knew what it was to fail. It was nothing like this.
He looked down again.
That didn’t matter anymore. Failure was failure. He would be replaced. He didn’t know what would happen then. He wouldn’t desert. But being forced to trail along as a disgrace would be even worse. Maybe he’d be discharged.
Ilya looked up again. Makuta didn’t seem to be one for second chances.
Ilya hadn’t-
That wasn’t-
Was it? It was.
Of course. Because you’re a coward. A failure. A coward.
Ilya knew, then. He understand. This wasn’t a second chance. It was nothing like that.
It was like being an insect pinned on a card.
Ilya really did flinch at that thought. He met the Makuta’s eyes again. Less blatant hate, more bitter resolve.
“I …” His voice seemed too thin and too taciturn for addressing a Mask Maker. “I don’t …” Say something. Not something weak, not something disrespectful. He spoke in a lowered tone, to the Makuta, not the others. “I don’t know I believe in destiny’s predictability.”
Tussul froze, an uncertainty lingering in the back of his eyes. The slightest motion to meet the offered hand was made, but nothing more.
Tussul seemed vaguely aware of the mention of names. He looked about and noticed Palios on the floor, and although his muscles tried to force him to rush to his aide, he recalled how well that worked the last time he did that.
Makuta snapped back around. His eyes were locked on Ilya’s. Slowly, his head lowered down as he almost leaned into the Okotan’s face. What was he looking for? Why such an intense inspection?
“Good.”
He broke eye contact once more, strolling slightly off to gingerly examine a gash made on the wall from his hammer’s misadventures. “Destiny is a force that some would consider predetermined. I do not entirely discount that notion, that some unseen hand shapes the lives of individuals. But the loss of the action of our will rips us from consequence - so it cannot be accepted in full.”
“Our fate is determined by the road we travel.” He turned slowly about, and was more determined than before - but somehow, less threatening as well. “Fear, malice, pity, despair - I read your eyes clearer than a letter. Your thoughts and emotions compel you to hate the voice of Makuta; the way he slanders you, spits on your character, compares you to dirt.”
The menace had returned. Makuta suddenly walked forwards and stopped at only the slightest distance further from what he had been. A second later there was a noise like a cold wind passing through metal, and the mask maker seemed infinitely more tired than he had been before, taking a second to breathe in place. Then the master again returned, but his eyes never left Ilya’s during his apparent weakness.
“But you chose not your weaker side, but to respond with all courage. On your knees you defied those words with grace.” His arm quivered slightly, but did not move. “That is the path you choose to take. That is Destiny.” His violet eyes looked down from the bottom of the mask’s golden sockets for only a moment more before ripping themselves away, as if there was some risk of staying too long.
“You will lead them, Ilya.” He folded his hands behind his back and very slowly moved towards the other group. “You will go and collect the elders or those who best replace them. The Dark is a dangerous place, and the threats you will encounter on your journey are plentiful and will test the mettle of everyone here. You must hold them together, keep their resolve, and determine the best way forward. And Ilya…”
He stopped walking. A quizzical eye was cast over his shoulder. He expected a reply.
“Same reason he wants all of us I’d guess. Venture into the Dark, find Ekimu and the missing Elders, and make it back in one piece.” Not sure why he chose a carver, though.
“So, Katau and, Tullus, wasn’t it? What are your trades?” And please don’t say something like woodworker, Karzahni knows we’ll need more than artisans to make it out of this alive. (@Rukah @Ghid )
It was amazing how well Jaawu was able to stay next to his wall. Amazingly lazy, but amazing nonetheless.
“Hey! You didn’t let me introduce myself! You realize that dear Makuta doesn’t just leave random people around as decoration, yeah?” As he was saying this, he did the unthinkable and actually got up and walked across the room to them.
Cheshie’s head swiveled as she raised her eyebrow. “I’m sorry, I guess I didn’t realize pretend to be a wall decoration was a viable combat strategy. You must have done such a good job of cowering I hardly noticed you.”
The sarcasm sounded mostly good natured, but there was a hint of bitterness to it.
Ilya had never been more aware of the extra weight in his pouch than at that moment.
There was much he wanted to say. Things he would’ve said, if he weren’t so desperate for control. Maybe he should’ve said them anyways. Things about Makuta’s not knowing anything about Ilya. He wondered what would happen if he turned and walked out.
Ilya flushed. He would never. He was too greedy and too cowardly. And the Makuta knew. The Makuta knew that much about Ilya. Maybe Ilya hadn’t known it, until now.
All he could find it in himself to say was, “Yes …” and then, too fast to think better, a sardonic pause.
“…my lord Regent?”
“Uhh, hunter.” Tussul replied, before becoming visibly uncomfortable. “But not THAT kind of hunter, I-I don’t eat people or anything, I just hunt… stuff.”
He nervously adjusted the collar of his poncho.
There was some kind of motion from Makuta. Was it a silent laugh?
“Keep it.” His visible eye traveled to the bag. “If he is dead I never want to see it again.”
As Makuta walked away, hands folded behind his back, the light seemed to go with him, leaving that half of the room darker than before, with even the light of the forge dimming.
“Have you all been introduced?” Makuta announced his presence with a rhetorical question. “Good. What did you learn from the combat engagement?”
Cheshie did a kick up onto her feet as she noticed Makuta’s arrival, immediately adopting a less casual stance.
That flying hammers really, really hurt. “To always be prepared for a fight?” Cheshie offered up, with more tentativeness than she would have liked.
Palios shifted his leg Under him the pile of random junk covering him clattered to the floor in response. “Take advantage of your enemy’s weaknesses, don’t run into clouds of orange mist, and at least attempt to work as a team to avoid whatever the Karz that was.” Palios Really wished he wasn’t currently blind because he sure as heck would’ve Liked to deliver an accusatory glare with that last part.
“Sitting in the corner is a viable option for avoiding death, sir!”
“Blacksmith.” Katau replied, glancing around the room. Makuta was talking to- no, at the others.
Katau thought about this for a while, his hand coming up to his chin as it usually did while he was thinking, and replied,
“That there’s gotta be some pretty tough stuff in the Dark to be able to topple you, Mask Maker.”
Makuta gave something resembling a nod, but his eyes indicated he was too busy watching Cheshie to give a more legitimate response.
There was a strange sensation, akin to sinuses suddenly clearing, as something seeped painlessly through his eyeballs and down into his body. The world suddenly faded back into existence.
Makuta gave him no special response.
“It is a hypothesis I would like to see tested in person.” The mask maker responded. “But it is impossible for me to gauge at present. My presence in this society is invaluable; with Ekimu gone, and the Elders having disappeared long ago, I am the only Okotan tasked with governing this people and keeping the Dark at bay. To leave in search of my wayward brother would spell doom for this entire civilization, this city of my people.”
“That is why you were called. Your duty is to venture to each of the regions and locate either the Elders or a suitable replacement for them. Tussul will be your guide, and Ilya,” He motioned slightly towards the Okotan still standing by the forge, “will be your Leader.”
“Are there any questions?”
Katau turned to study Ilya, as the jungle Okotan had apparently been declared the group’s leader. He shook his head in response to Makuta’s question, and thought about what he had said.