Slowly, carefully, Ekimu lifted the golden Mask from the forge. This was his latest creation, the Golden Mask of Stone. Letting it cool gingerly, he placed it with the four other Masks he had created. Now only one remained.
“It’s done,” he said. “Only one Mask remains to be created now.”
Beside him, his brother, Makuta, nodded. “The Golden Mask of Fire.”
Each Mask had within it a piece of the elemental energy that surrounded Okoto. Fire was the most difficult to collect, and the most dangerous, for it could only be taken from the hottest fires, or from one of the three volcanoes in Ta-Koro.
As dangerous as the task was, the being behind the two Mask Makers was ready to do it. He had done many dangerous thing in his long life, and he felt sure he could do this, too.
“Sounds dangerous,” Kulta said. “When do we leave?”
This was Okoto’s largest volcano. No one knew when it might erupt, but as it had erupted recently, people felt certain it would not be going off for a while. This place would be the easiest place to find and collect some Fire energy.
Slowly, Kulta ascended the mountain. He had his staff in his hand. This staff was specially designed to collect Elemental Energy.
Kulta could feel the air grow warmer as he ascended. Suddenly, a blast of heat assaulted him, so hot it would have made some Okotoans collapse. Kulta barely noticed.
He was nearing the peak of the Volcano when he heard a sound. Was the Volcano about to erupt? No, this was a being. Who would be crazy enough to be up here?
Kulta decided to ignore it. He had a job to do, and this sound was likely some large Rahi with more fierceness than sense.
That was when Kulta saw footsteps on the ground. Someone had been here, and not too long ago. Kulta was wondering who it could be when he heard a crunch behind him. He whirled to see a cloaked figure wielding a Golden Mask. Suddenly, Kulta realized that this was a Golden Mask of Fire.
Wordlessly, the figure donned the mask. Then, suddenly, he spoke. “Goodbye, Kulta.”
Kulta knew that voice. “Makuta?”
These were the last words he ever said, for the figure activated the Golden Mask of Fire, and the Volcano went off.
Kulta couldn’t feel a thing. Maybe that was because he was a Skeleton. But emotionally, he felt pain. He remembered the pain of dying. He remembered that he had been killed by a Golden Mask. He didn’t remember anything about this Golden Mask, but he knew one thing:
All Golden Masks of Power must be destroyed.