"You're to wear this at all times whilst you're in public." Lavin told me, his eyes burning into mine as he placed the silver mask in my hand. I stared down at it fearfully and felt gorge rise in my throat. Surely they couldn't expect me to don such a monstrous thing for days at a time? The moulding of the things lips were pressed firmly closed. Its expression one of cold superiority. It would be impossible for me to speak with it on, let alone breathe properly. I lifted it up into the light and inspected the small holes in its nostrils, the two eye holes that would allow me to see.
I Shook my head and tried to give it back to him. "No!" I said, standing up. "I'll not wear that. I can't!"
He made no move to take the mask from my shaking hands. "You can and you will. Your father deemed it a suitable punishment for your disobedience and the council has agreed. Behave yourself and in time maybe you'll be permitted to wear the Avadina again.
I didn't know if I should laugh or cry. I had always hated the Avadina, a mask made from thinly spun silk. It was infused with a magic that allowed it to mould its self to ones features, making it like a second skin to most of our kind. Not so for me. I had realised early on that it was another sort of shackle, made to keep us aloof and apart from those different from us. Often I had been badly punished for my defiance but that had always paled to the terrible feeling of constriction I felt whenever someone forced me to put it on.
Looking at the thing in my hands I suddenly yearned for the days when my father forced the horrid Avadina on my face. "I won't wear it." I said, trying not to keep hold of some dignity, though god knows it meant little enough to me now.
Lavin never became angry, not on the outside at least. I think they had given him charge of my guardianship because he was a very difficult man to rattle. In all the months I had known him he had never lashed out at me unless he absolutely needed to. I could tell when he was fixing to bend me to his will though. In almost all things he had control over me. Panicked, with my heart beating painfully fast in my chest I threw the accursed thing away from me and backed as far away from him as the small room would allow.
Now that I had thrown my little tantrum I was not entirely sure what to do next. I knew my outburst would warrant further punishment and I felt a pit open up in the bottom of my stomach at the thought of it. What made it worse though was the fear I felt. What would they do to me now? And with those panicked words resounding in my head I realised that they were going to win eventually. With each new punishment they forced on me I became a little more complacent, a little less rebellious. By the time they were finished with me I had no doubt they I would be reduced to a mere shell of my former self. A meek little puppet they could contain and use for their sordid affairs.
Lavin sighed and picked the horrid thing up. It glinted in the morning sunlight streaming through the tiny barred window of my cell. I raised my hands toward him off, little good it would do me, and tried to push my back through the stone wall that kept me so tightly penned in. Everything around me was another form of punishment. They knew how I hated to be inside, how I despised and feared closed spaces.
"You have but one small requirement Fali," He said, using the title that was to remain with me for the rest of my days. Deserter. "And that is to obey. Learn to obey and you will be given some measure of freedom."
What was freedom to a race that was so bound in their own intrigue and politics that they dared not open themselves to the world and people around them for fear that they might be contaminated. And I, the greatest hope of freedom I could hope for was the ability to take a piss unsupervised, and for that I would likely have to give myself over entirely to their rule. "Please," I gasped as he walked towards me, the mask held high in his large hands. Ridiculous or not I would have bolted had his gaze not pinned me flat against my wall. I lifted my arms and threw them over my face, twisting away from him as much as the hex allowed. "Falumn," the name I must call all of my kind now, our word for master. "Do not, please!" I had never begged, no matter what they tried to do to me I had never debased myself so thoroughly and earnestly. And it was all for naught. He grabbed my hands and pinned them to my chest and pulled me from the wall. I was pushed down onto my bed. The feeling of helplessness increased and with it a need to escape. "I beg of you, Falumn, please don't!" I could hear my own hysteria now as his knee ground into my chest. Keeping me pinned down. His large hand fumbled with the thin straps of the mask.
"If you do not yield Fali, if you do not submit to your punishment then you cannot be forgiven. This is a necessity to make you see that your ways will not be permitted." His features softened abruptly but he did not move his wretched knee from my chest. "If you will not wear the mask you will not be permitted to leave this room except when it is entirely necessary, and then you will be forced. Think, do you want to be holed up in here for even longer? "
No, I did not want to stay penned in like a rabbit in its hutch, I did not want to spend one more maddening hour in my room, but even that was preferable to the soulless thing they were trying to force on me. I fought him then, with tooth and nail, fist and foot. He ended my rebellion quickly enough though. He was not permitted to hurt me but he was more than capable of restraining me. With a casual flick of his hand he had me laid flat and immobile on the bed, unable to move as much as my eyelids. He had never done this to me before, I knew he was capable but he had never actually done it. I screamed but not a single murmur escaped my lips. His finger's smoothed my errant hair from my eyes before he fixed the mask gently in place. I was hysterical inside, wailing and screaming like a madman. Let me go, I thought, as tears began to flow through my closed eyes and down beneath the thin layer of metal, for the love of god let me go.
I heard the tiny lock click into place, moulding the hateful thing firmly to my skin. I couldn't breathe with it on. Lavin got off of me and released me from my paralysis. I immediately rolled off my back and started clawing at the thing adhered to my skin. I could hear my own muffled cries drowned to almost nothing
"Breathe Fali," Laven commanded calmly. I wondered somewhat hysterically how they would punish me further if I disobeyed him and ended up suffocating. They'd have a trick disciplining me from the afterlife.
I found that if I breathed deeply and slowly the mask did allow me a sufficient supply of air. Of course every second I spent wearing it was one more moment of torture. It was difficult to keep my composure. Tears were still streaming down the face of metal. I instinctively kept trying to breathe through my mouth and finding it clogged every time sent my heart pounding. I wanted to tear my own hair out.
Laven left me to my horrors, not talking or touching me as I wept pitifully into my hands. Oh yes, my father had done himself proud with this particular discipline. He must have laughed himself silly as he thought of it. And then through the panic and dread a long forgotten emotion burned inside of me. I hated him, I despised him and every damned, inconsequential thing he thought was so important. He did this to me, knowing how much I would hate, reveling no doubt in the pain he was bringing me.
I sat up suddenly and wiped my hand across my eyes. I struggled to control my breathing, making each breath flow slowly and fully. I knew Laven would report my breakdown to my father and the court. So be it. Let them think they had beaten me, let them think I would one day dance to their tunes. I would not, god as my witness I would not fold beneath them!
"You're father has commanded an audience with you Fali," Laven said, not in spite or relish for seeing me quail because despite his harsh mannerism I didn't think he enjoyed hurting me. "You're to wear the mask."
Why else would he have made me put it on if not to take me out in public? I looked at him dully for a moment before slowly nodding my head. My father would take me to court, I realized, feeling a knot open up in my stomach before pushing it angrily away. He had already humiliated me ten times over. I had little place for pride anymore. What did I care if the court saw me with the mask? At least I wouldn't have to school my features among them.
I dressed myself; I wasn't permitted a servant anymore, in a plain black silk tunic and trousers, unadorned but of good quality. The black was to emphasize my disgrace and title as a deserter. Even the cloak on my back and the ribbon in my hair was black. For the rest of my life I would wear the same colour and none other, if found with another I could expect no less than twenty lashes. Not a poultry sum by anyone's count.
As soon as I was dressed I was led out of my room. The air was chill and fierce, turning the mask frigid in moments and leaving the flesh beneath cold and sore. Lavern caught hold of my arm, his thick fingers dinging painfully into my flesh. Again I did not think he did it on purpose, had I asked him to ease up a little I'm sure he would have. I would not ask though and I made a silent vow to myself that he would never hear me beg again. He pulled me into one of my father's carriages, waiting for us beside the road.
One inside he pulled the curtains aside and sat down opposite me. He held a thin silver chain in his hand. I looked at it and shuddered. Surely not that as well?
