The mask of fear
Part 1: The birth of a hero
Prologue
‘’What are you waiting for…. DO IT!!! A powerful voice screamed out of the barren landscape, its loud echo rebounding off the surrounding walls of fire.’’
‘’NO!!! A sharp voiced replied.’’
Two figures stood upon an empty hill of rocks, the enterity of it covered by pale snow. On the left stood a woman owning a black cape, underneath it lying a dark suit coveted in soft cotton, her identity hidden behind a black hood. On her right stood a masked man, the whole of his body covered by a long beige robe. The mask itself represented the symbolisms of mystery, unknown shapes and images carved upon its ancient wood.
The two strange figures stood forefront to each other, a line of blue flames beginning to slowly surround them, trapping them into a circle of judgement. The owner of the screaming voice fell to her knees, her hands covering her forehead, silver tears falling gracefully down her cold cheeks. Snow followed the silence of fire, magicaly descending the tormented sky in a dreamlike fashion.
Reacting to the woman’s state of sadness, the masked man fell at his turn to his knees, his legs shaking in pain as he did so. As he remained crouching on the cold snow, the masked’s man chest began to vibrate with the rising of his heartbeat, the powerful vibration corsing through his body such as a repelling disease. His arms and hands crying in pain, the masked man placed them both on his mysterious mask and softly took it off.
The woman lying before him gasped, for horror or surprise? We do not know. Her eyes widened in reflection to her astonishement, the tears drowning within them expanding in number and size. Within her pupils we coud only witness the glimpse of a radiant blue light, illuminating completely her vision. The unmasked man screeched in pain and fell on his right shoulder, his body paralized by overcoming emotions.
The woman immediately cried to his aid, slowly crawling towards him. When upon reach, the woman folded her hands across the man’s head, embracing her body against his as she plunged her head against his chest. Blood began to flow from the man’s heart, marking its course along the snowy path surrounding him, making the shape of a clash of thunder. Whispering of agony against a voice whispering of sadness, the man caressed the woman’s blood dirtied cheek and said his final words.
‘’In all that lies in the outmost of light and dark, slumbers the great beacon. A beacon, in which within are souls filled with calamity we all search. A beacon of hope. A beacon of retribution. A beacon of atonement… All of this we search. All of this I’ve learned across my long life. And so, listen to the final words of the chosen outcast: There is no perfection or imperfection. There is no right or wrong. There is no sureness or unsureness. There is no good or evil. There is life, and only life. Misunderstood as all the rest.’’
What came after was silence, the fire of a breathing heart being exctint for all of eternity. The woman, noticing the man’s passing, cried out all existing emotion within her, screaming for both hope and fear.
‘’NO!!!!’’
A third figure suddenly appeared within the circle of fear, his voice echoing back against the cries of infinitless agony. A tall man wearing a perfect white cloack approached the emotionally frantic woman, a clear sense of arrogance following each of his footsteps.
¨
‘’ A necessary sacrfice for the good of humanity, the man whispered.’’
Hearing the sensless voice entering her mind, the woman jumped back on her feat but decided to not face the man.
‘’If you knew this sacrifce was required…. Why didn’t you do it yourself?’’
The cloaked man showed no emotion.
‘’ My life is of too much importance for the integrity of our people. If I would cease to exist, who would have the sense of power and authority to follow me? No one, and that is the reality.’’
The woman shaked her head in response.
‘’No… that is your reality.’’
The cloaked man approached the woman by two steps.
‘’Why do you show so much care for a member of the chosen outcasts? This man was born for a purpose, as we all are. His purpose was to die for the sake of others, not to live on and gain a place amoungst our ranks.’’
The woman finally faced the cloaked man, thus immediately taking down her hood in revelation of her identity.
‘’ He was no member of the chosen outcasts…... HE WAS A HERO!’’
Part 1: The birth of a hero
Prologue
‘’What are you waiting for…. DO IT!!! A powerful voice screamed out of the barren landscape, its loud echo rebounding off the surrounding walls of fire.’’
‘’NO!!! A sharp voiced replied.’’
Two figures stood upon an empty hill of rocks, the enterity of it covered by pale snow. On the left stood a woman owning a black cape, underneath it lying a dark suit coveted in soft cotton, her identity hidden behind a black hood. On her right stood a masked man, the whole of his body covered by a long beige robe. The mask itself represented the symbolisms of mystery, unknown shapes and images carved upon its ancient wood.
The two strange figures stood forefront to each other, a line of blue flames beginning to slowly surround them, trapping them into a circle of judgement. The owner of the screaming voice fell to her knees, her hands covering her forehead, silver tears falling gracefully down her cold cheeks. Snow followed the silence of fire, magicaly descending the tormented sky in a dreamlike fashion.
Reacting to the woman’s state of sadness, the masked man fell at his turn to his knees, his legs shaking in pain as he did so. As he remained crouching on the cold snow, the masked’s man chest began to vibrate with the rising of his heartbeat, the powerful vibration corsing through his body such as a repelling disease. His arms and hands crying in pain, the masked man placed them both on his mysterious mask and softly took it off.
The woman lying before him gasped, for horror or surprise? We do not know. Her eyes widened in reflection to her astonishement, the tears drowning within them expanding in number and size. Within her pupils we coud only witness the glimpse of a radiant blue light, illuminating completely her vision. The unmasked man screeched in pain and fell on his right shoulder, his body paralized by overcoming emotions.
The woman immediately cried to his aid, slowly crawling towards him. When upon reach, the woman folded her hands across the man’s head, embracing her body against his as she plunged her head against his chest. Blood began to flow from the man’s heart, marking its course along the snowy path surrounding him, making the shape of a clash of thunder. Whispering of agony against a voice whispering of sadness, the man caressed the woman’s blood dirtied cheek and said his final words.
‘’In all that lies in the outmost of light and dark, slumbers the great beacon. A beacon, in which within are souls filled with calamity we all search. A beacon of hope. A beacon of retribution. A beacon of atonement… All of this we search. All of this I’ve learned across my long life. And so, listen to the final words of the chosen outcast: There is no perfection or imperfection. There is no right or wrong. There is no sureness or unsureness. There is no good or evil. There is life, and only life. Misunderstood as all the rest.’’
What came after was silence, the fire of a breathing heart being exctint for all of eternity. The woman, noticing the man’s passing, cried out all existing emotion within her, screaming for both hope and fear.
‘’NO!!!!’’
A third figure suddenly appeared within the circle of fear, his voice echoing back against the cries of infinitless agony. A tall man wearing a perfect white cloack approached the emotionally frantic woman, a clear sense of arrogance following each of his footsteps.
¨
‘’ A necessary sacrfice for the good of humanity, the man whispered.’’
Hearing the sensless voice entering her mind, the woman jumped back on her feat but decided to not face the man.
‘’If you knew this sacrifce was required…. Why didn’t you do it yourself?’’
The cloaked man showed no emotion.
‘’ My life is of too much importance for the integrity of our people. If I would cease to exist, who would have the sense of power and authority to follow me? No one, and that is the reality.’’
The woman shaked her head in response.
‘’No… that is your reality.’’
The cloaked man approached the woman by two steps.
‘’Why do you show so much care for a member of the chosen outcasts? This man was born for a purpose, as we all are. His purpose was to die for the sake of others, not to live on and gain a place amoungst our ranks.’’
The woman finally faced the cloaked man, thus immediately taking down her hood in revelation of her identity.
‘’ He was no member of the chosen outcasts…... HE WAS A HERO!’’