The Mask

The mask was lightweight and easy to hold, carved from a smooth wood stained dark brown. It bore two wide, slanted eyeholes and the wooden frame of it was empty from the bridge of the nose to the chin – this space was covered by thin cotton cloth stretched over the gap and tacked in at the corners to form a breathable barrier between the outside world and the face behind. Though it was overall a mask designed for and fit to a human face, there was something about the slant of the eyes and the curving shape of the cloth – over the bridge of the nose, under an eye and attached at the far cheek, dropping to a sharp point at the chin and up the other side in the same manner – which suggested not a human face but that of a harsh-beaked bird of prey: fierce, precise, warlike.
Jaya felt none of those things at the moment, even as she stared down at the mask which had been made with her in mind – a mask she had worn often lately, always with the proper emotions set underneath the firm wooden cover. Her hands, and the mask in them, wavered over an open, half-empty red duffle bag on her bed.
A long moment of indecision passed. Then Jaya scoffed and quickly dumped the mask into a cardboard box at her feet.
"That was a bad idea," she muttered, closing the box up and shoving it deep under her bed – the bottom of a white, metal-framed bunk. With a series of sharp, practiced motions, she tugged the covers straight so that they hung over the edge again, giving the appearance of a well-made bed, particularly when compared to its upper twin – a tangled nest of scrunched-up sheets and pillows packed into the far corner of the mattress, firm against the meeting walls. Jaya zipped the duffel bag shut, shouldered it, and crossed the small, cramped room in three quick steps, nudging some scattered clothing aside with her foot as she went.
The bedroom door opened into a longer area which housed a well-loved couch and a square table set with four chairs. To Jaya's left there was another door, one which led to a bathroom, and further down along that same wall, a small kitchen. Another exit stood at the other end of the living area, beyond the couch, the table, and the small figure seated there. She was hardly larger than a ten-year-old, but the proportions of her face and form were those of a teenager at the least. Her feet swung in empty space over the edge of the chair, and short blond hair hung about her face, obscuring it from view. The hair couldn't hide the long, pointed ears which stuck up on either side of her head, however, easily marking the girl as a nearly-grown Rant rather than a very small or very young human.
"Rowan, the mess is coming back in there. Try to keep it from growing again."
Rowan glanced up at Jaya, but her attention quickly returned to the knife and the small block of wood in her hands. They moved quickly and deftly, cutting away shavings and chunks of the material she didn't want. Jaya could see two finished butterflies on the table, beside a fair number of rough, raw wooden cubes and chunks.
"Another mobile?"
"Old un broke," Rowan reminded her briefly. "Th' string snapped, and you stepped 'n it."
"Only one piece. That looks like you're starting from scratch."
"Thought I might 's well," the little Rant said with a shrug. Her hands hardly faltered in their task, chipping away at something with a longer, narrower wing-span than a butterfly. "I'm gettin' better. 'S good practice."
Jaya approached, looking over Rowan's shoulder. Perhaps it was because she already knew what would join Rowan's wooden butterflies, but she could almost see the pattern of feathered wings, a fanned tail, and a curved beak in the wood moving under the knife. Her curiosity satisfied, she backed away and started for the door.
"Have fun with that, then…though I'd rather not come back to find sawdust in the cabinets, like last time."
Rowan's face was bowed, but Jaya firmly suspected she was smirking.
"Don' worry. You'll still know the place when you get back."
"As long as I can 'know' it without needing to blink a few times first, I suppose. Later!"
"Sunday!" Rowan sang back, as though Jaya might forget. The dark-haired human threw a wry grin over her shoulder. She stepped out, shutting the door behind her, and the grin melted away into a bland, neutral expression, one fit to match the bland, neutral hallway she stood in. Hefting the duffle bag further up on her shoulder, Jaya strode off, her footsteps muffled by thin, musty carpet and soundless walls, and passed through yet another exit onto the busy street outside.
For once, the five o'clock bus wasn't running late, and within minutes Jaya sat in a corner of the sideways-facing bench just behind the driver's seat, holding a rail with her left hand and swaying with the motions of the large vehicle as it lurched from stop to stop, swinging through turns and traffic with practiced ease. Her bag was stowed in the space beneath her seat, squashed slightly into its own corner due to the number of briefcases and backpacks with which it shared room. Though Jaya had avoided the worst of the crush by waiting an hour or two after most public city schools had released their students, the bus on a Friday afternoon was almost never any less than half-full.
During a particularly long pause in front of the Orchid Theater, Jaya happened to turn her head and rest it for a moment against the metal bar which ran up between the back corner of the bench and the partition which separated the driver from the passengers. A small clang followed the motion, and she drew back and felt along her forehead. A narrow band of steel circled her brow, and Jaya further realized that she had never taken her hair out of its ponytail as she had intended.
The bus doors closed, having accepted the last passenger waiting at the stop, and it lurched forward. Jaya removed her hand from the post and instead concentrated briefly on the circlet. It liquefied without heat, flowing like quicksilver down onto her fingers and coalescing into a small ball of metal in her palm. The other hand pulled an elastic tie free of her black hair, letting it fall around her shoulders and upper back. She considered the steel sphere, and then it flowed back onto her head, shaped by her fingers and her will into a headband, drawing her bangs away from her face.
The other passengers paid her little attention. Elementists were not uncommon here in Alutia, after all. Jaya settled back peacefully and waited for her stop.
One hour later, she approached the front door of a quiet, white-walled suburban home. The neighborhood was calm and peaceful as evening fell, but Jaya's expression was touched by anxiety, and she had to pause and breathe in deeply before ringing the bell. She had just enough time to work the beginning of a smile onto her face when the door swung open, spilling warm golden light across her. A woman stood there in a pale green sundress, an expression of pure delight filling her face. Some creases had formed at the corners of her eyes and mouth, but their age was countered by wavy, pale brown hair and a bright hazel gaze.
"Jaya!" she greeted, stepping over the threshold and scooping Jaya into a hug. "It's good to have you home. How have you been?"
Jaya's tentative smile softened a little, and she returned the embrace easily. "I've been fine. Thanks, Mom."
They stepped back, though a pair of slender, slightly calloused hands remained on Jaya's shoulders.
"You look tired. Are you sleeping all right?"
Jaya shrugged, and the wry tilt to her smile returned.
"Classes are keeping me busy."
"Michael says the same thing. Well, come in; dinner's nearly ready."
Jaya stepped inside after her mother, shutting the night away behind her. The entrance hall was warmly lit, and framed photographs lined the walls in a disorganized montage of years: baby pictures directly beside graduation photos, wedding and birthday shots of cousins and grandparents, aunts and uncles, all lovingly displayed under thin panes of glass. Jaya followed the familiar pattern of faces until she reached an open entryway, through which she could hear the steady hum of a news report and see a dark head over the top of the couch.
Devon Ferox was bent over his work and showed no sign of recognizing the arrival of his daughter. Jaya would have called out to him, but the images on the television screen caught her attention and stopped her short.
A female reporter, one with the sharply elegant features of a Vylte, was speaking in a smooth, even tone as half the screen displayed rough film footage of what might have been an office library or records room. Any and all books and files were gone, however, leaving only empty metal shelving and filing cabinets. A vast, empty floor of blue-grey stone, inlaid with an elaborate runic circle, had been cracked and broken, rendering the carved characters useless. The entire scene had been cordoned off by bright orange tape and officials moved through it, gathering whatever evidence they could.
"…given the nature of the damage and the items stolen, police say that it is unlikely this is the work of simple vandals or even a rival company. Rather, it seems this may well have been done by the organization known throughout the Worlds as the Seldavi Order. If so, however, the question remains as to why they have changed their usual pattern of minor attacks on the property of individual summoners or small businesses. Due to last night's act against the Alutian branch of the Blue Circle Corporation, other large-scale Utsuyan contractors are expressing worry, and pressure is already being put on the governments to uncover the perpetrators.
"Meanwhile, the Nishe people of Shynta have finally resolved their most recent protest with the Vylte government…"
Jaya tore her eyes from the screen to see that both of her parents had noticed her attention on the story and had been watching with her.
"Blue Circle…that's near the center of Port City, isn't it?" Jaya's father commented.
"I guess so," Jaya said with a forced shrug. "Sometimes I see the office building from the bus route, though we don't go by it."
"Some people," Eileen sighed. "Why can't they leave others alone to make their livelihood in peace? I can't believe them, sometimes."
Jaya's hand twisted around the woven strap of her duffle bag, setting her face in a neutral mask. She thought of the contents of the books and records which were now ashes and the monsters that stone circle had brought into their world.
"They probably had a reason," she muttered with effort.
"I wonder what it might be, in that case," Devon Ferox responded from the couch. "I can't imagine it being a very good one; if it was, they might have taken their complaints to their own governments, or even to the Compendium, and the whole issue would be fixed."
"Mom, Dad, I—"
Jaya's words caught in her throat, and for a long moment she struggled to speak. What escaped in the end, however, was not what she had set out to reveal.
"—I'm going to put my bag up. Is Michael upstairs?"
"Yes, he is," Eileen said, turning worried eyes on her daughter. "Is something wrong?"
"No…just a really long day."
"Well, you'll have the weekend to relax," her father supplied, setting down the delicate, half-finished silver brooch in his hand and moving around the couch for a quick hug. "Go on up and see your brother. We'll call you both down in a few minutes for dinner."
"Yeah. Thanks, Dad."
Jaya trudged up the stairs, pausing outside her brother's closed door, the first one on the landing. From inside she could hear the sounds of rapid typing, though the usual soft music was absent. He was probably wearing headphones; no wonder he hadn't heard her come in. She lifted her hand to knock, then dropped it, turned away and moved down the short hall.
The second door led to what was still her room. Her bed was made and her trophies and books kept dust-free, as though she hadn't half moved out for college. Jaya dropped the duffle bag on the foot of her bed and herself at the head. One hand covered her face, the tips of her fingers just touching the metal band in her hair, and her breath hissed through her teeth.
In a few minutes she would once again have to become just Jaya Ferox, student of Port City University, daughter of Devon and Eileen and elder sister of Michael. Jaya, the Hawk, the Seldavit, she had to bury well and deep.
For that brief instant, Jaya wondered how so much had changed, that her hawk-mask had become her true self and her true self a secret from even her family.
When had her natural face become another mask?