Of Masks and Chromes by Roberto Ricci

Author:Roberto Ricci [Ricci, Roberto]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9781477566893
Google: 3cZlrIopZk4C
Goodreads: 18361960
Publisher: Roberto Ricci
Published: 2012-05-28T23:00:00+00:00

6. A New Mask

The next day, I woke with the sun, feeling more alive than ever and decided to bathe in the river. The sweet water cleansed not only my body but also my soul. I had freed myself from the demons of guilt and felt grateful towards Astor to whom I had confessed my burden without being judged. Thanks to his influence, my gratitude now extended to the Mother Goddess, whom I realized must have cast her protection over me after I escaped Axyum.

When I came out of the water, I found Astor busy carving a piece of wood, using my father’s dagger as a tool.

“You took it from my sack!” I said, shocked.

“That I did,” he replied. “I needed a mask. I cannot go to Ayas without one and I cannot make a mask without a knife. So I looked in your sack and, luckily, you had one handy.”

“You could have asked me.”

Astor looked up at me, the dagger gripped firmly in his right hand. “You were in the river,” he said, and went back to his work. Curious to see the result, I stepped closer. He was shaping the wood with surprising craftsmanship and I could see the personality expressed in his mask coming to life.

“Where did you learn how to do that?” I asked.

“I taught myself,” he said. “The Mother Goddess gives you everything you need. Then all you need to do is make the best of it.”

“If the Mother Goddess gives you everything, why is it that you need to go to the Faire?”

He laughed and said that occasionally even the Mother Goddess got distracted. The mask he was making, he explained, was typical of the Green tradition – using images found in nature as a further way to revere the Mother Goddess. Astor’s mask symbolized the sun, with rays emanating from the forehead.

“Will you make me a mask, too?”

He seemed puzzled by my request. “Why would you want one?”

I admitted I was afraid that any Black chromes visiting Ayas might recognize me and force me back to Axyum with them. Astor shook his head. “A mask cannot change your chrome. Black you were born and Black you will remain.”

“Please, Astor.”

He looked at me for a moment before getting to his feet and going to the elm tree from where he had taken the first piece of wood. He cut another piece and returned with it. He worked quickly and the result was not as good as his first mask. Astor said it symbolized a lightning, but to me, the scratch carved in the middle of the mask seemed more of a mistake dictated by hurry. I tried it on and it was slightly small too. Nevertheless, I did not complain, for there is nothing more detestable than an ungrateful chrome.

Astor said, “We’ll also have to do something about your cloak.” He was right. A chrome with a wooden mask and a black stained mantle would have certainly attracted attention.

“Here, give it to me,” he said.

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