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I was invited to a carnival in Venice by a friend of mine, Dr. Alana Bloom. Alana typically moves between Venice and Florence, so I wasn’t initially startled by her offer. However, I was very tentative. But, in the end, guilt weighed me towards the idea. I must admit, I’m not used to events such as this. The activity was… suffocating. She gave me a spare mask, a simple one that hides the entirety of my face. It was a golden knight.
As I found myself surrounded by a crowd of sharks, I heard the laughter of her voice grow further and further. At least she finds happiness. Eventually, I find refuge from the inane and mad near a few barrels of rum, wine, beer, juice, etc. Their unmarked property assures that it is not of a soul’s awareness, which barrel contains what. It was a gamble, but wasn’t also being at this carnival? A place to be whomever and act however without discomfort or fear.
I pour myself a handle of the second barrel’s contents. With a sip, I’m pleased to find myself consuming wine. As I stand near the stand, I finally allow myself to notice the scenery around me. Although there are points to complain, the entire carnival is gorgeous. Some would even argue that this event was romantic and grand, with its masquerade balls and divine cuisine. Despite the beauty, I still feel out of place. What to some seem like vibrant crowds of extravagant varieties of people, I see circles closing in. With that anxious thought, I take another sip of my glass; I find myself watching the architecture to pass the time.
My eyes were stolen from the winding, unique architecture when a stag walked over to me. His mask was black with golden accents and showed the lower half of his face. The beauty and detail left me in awe. I’ve never seen someone with such a mask. I nodded softly, readjusting my hood and mask as I stopped drinking.
“Tell me, what are you drinking,” the stag asked with an accent that left me feeling confused as I attempted to pinpoint its origin.
“Red wine.”
“I see. Which barrel? They never mark these barrels for some idiotic reason.” A scowl formed on the man’s face as he looked at the barrels with distaste.
I smiled under my mask, appreciating the stag’s scowl. “The second.”
“Ah, grazie. Your aid is appreciated.” He pours himself a wine glass of the drink before moving to stand next to me. “Have you come to the carnival before? You seem… out of place.”
“No, this is my first time. I was invited by Dr. Bl—… the um… the woman in the bluejay mask.” I shifted uncomfortably, tilting my head towards her direction.
“Dr. Alana Bloom?”
My head perks up at the mention of her name, tilting lightly.
“She’s a friend of mine,” he explains instantly, “I would rather not provide any other details as they would hint at my identity, but please be reassured that I do know Dr. Bloom quite well. Do not hesitate to converse about her with me.”
I nod, although the fact doesn’t console me fully. I continued, “She asked me to come here. My mask is of her design and ownership.”
“Do you find pleasure here? Perhaps you enjoy the activities, or maybe it is the way the lanterns shine against the stream that brings you a smile? Is it that, do you enjoy the atmosphere, knight?”
“As you mentioned, this is not my scene. However, I cannot deny the beauty in the architecture and scene. It looks like a painting, but one too loud to bring rest.”
“Then pray tell, what is your scene, my dear?”
I hesitate for a moment looking in the stag’s mask. It was as black and dark as a nightmare’s soul or as a raven’s death. “What’s yours?”
He stays quiet, turning back to the crowd in front of them.
It stays like that for a while. The two of them together watching the others dance and drink. For a moment I see a moth attempt to court a red dragon before the dragon declines and turns away. The exotic costumes and unusual attendants almost fully shield and distract from their presence.
“Ballrooms.” I snap my head back to the stag upon hearing his newly sincere voice harboring a new emotion or maybe lack of one. “Or my kitchen,” he continues.
“Your kitchen? Do you cook? A stag like you, I would’ve assumed you to afford many maids and cooks,” I say, looking into the mask. I’m sure that the fortune it must’ve cost to make would’ve sent me to the slums.
“I can, but I prefer to make my own food. No one else would make it the way I prefer.”
I hum in understanding. “I see. I’m sure you are a wonderful cook.” He hums and nods his head.
“Would you like to find out, my knight?” My head whips around towards him, his words taking me by surprise.
“That’s impossible, Stag. The masks.”
“We can eat with masks. Ask Alana for one which leaves the bottom half of your face open. We can meet again here, at the same time, tomorrow night. I will be wearing the same mask. If you do not wish to, then do not show up.” The stag looks within the crowd spotting a jester walking further into it, pushing a woman butterfly along as he laughs at her. “I’m afraid I must part. My hunger is only growing, and I must prepare dinner. I yearn to meet again, my knight.” The stag bows before making his exit, walking towards where the jester was previously, going after him. They must know each other, I conclude, watching as he leaves.
The festival was nearly closed, and the crowds had almost completely dissipated. Nearby, a bluejay waves goodbye to a woman in a pig mask. She began to trot over upon realizing my location. “Will, I’ve been looking for you. Where did you go?”
“Alana, I just went to get a drink. Who was that?” I walked over to meet her halfway.
“I don’t know, but she was nice. I wish I managed to get her name. Shall we be off?”
I nodded as she led me back to her abode. The building was in one of the many lantern-lit alleys. The walls only further reminded me of my home in Florence, causing an itch to form where the heart beats and the bones grow.
As we arrived inside, we stripped off our concealing attire. I laid my mask on the table and hung my coat on the coat rack. I studied her as she took off her costume. “Alana,” I hesitantly began, “could I attend alongside you again tomorrow night? Maybe in a mask that allows me better access to my mouth?”
Alana gave me a suspicious glance. “Oh? And what would you need it for? Don’t tell me you plan a night of pleasure for yourself tomorrow with some handsome lady?”
I felt my face tense as I turned towards the fireplace. I managed a quick shake of my head as I spoke, “No, no. Nothing of the sort. I just got hungry. It was difficult to get nourishment and quench my thirst with this mask; although, I do marvel at its beauty. It was just a little-“ I paused, trying to find the word, “suffocating.” would greatly appreciate a more appropriate mask.”
Alana nodded and went to her bedroom before coming out with a gorgeous mask in hand. It was detailed with a bone-white coloring and two things that looked like ears on the side of it. She handed it to me carefully. “I went to it as a lamb a few years back. It was…enjoyable. I hope you find the same outcome.”
I attempt to hand it back to her after feeling the hills of the lines and the cannons. “Surely you can hold onto it for me until morning.” Yet, she hands it right back.
“Keep it. You never know when you might need it.” She smirks and takes her stuff as she heads back into her bedroom. “You best be leaving for your inn. I hear that it will rain before morning.”
-
As I lay in my bed for the night, my mind kept trembling with restless moths of thoughts, crowding the lightbulb of my sanity. In the pitch of my room, my eyes kept trying to identify the white lamb mask on my dresser, but they were left to only imagine its curves and indents.
Eventually, I shut my eyes. My mind drifts off to the darker place it usually finds residence. The woods crackle and live soundly around me as I look past black, stretching trees. In it, I see a familiar suited man with a familiar black mask. He huffs as red coats his figure. A sickening cut is heard causing me to stumble on a branch, breaking it. He spins around to face me. The mask…isn’t a mask at all. It connects to its person, merging into an overwhelming beast. A black, tall, lanky stag-man stands before me covered in blood. He was something out of children’s horrific nightmares and warnings. It creeps towards me before offering a long, lanky hand. Its fingers were twisted like tree branches and as sickening as bloody organs.
“Would you care for a dance, my lamb in knight’s clothing?”
-
The next night I hesitated at the entrance. The sounds of laughter and enthusiasm were overwhelming to hear as he studied the revelrous grounds.
“Will? What’s wrong? You look nervous. You weren’t nervous last night.” Alana looks at me with a furrowed brow, rubbing her soft palms over my coat. I remember a time when I used to fawn over her touch, and frequently find my gaze drifting back to her, now I just enjoy the company.
“I didn’t- I didn’t have plans tonight. I may leave tonight without you.”
“You will?”
“I might,” I correct immediately. She raises a brow. “I’m ok.”
“You were just hyperventilating.”
“I’m- I will be ok.”
“Will, tell me what’s going on.”
I hesitate, glancing into the crowd, and catching sight of the barrels. They appear alone. A frown crosses my face without apparent reason.
“Will? Are you alright?” She takes ahold of my shoulder, trying to ground me.
“Yeah, yeah. I just-…I’ll be alright. I’ve got this. I’ll be seeing you.” I leave her standing aimless and confused as I make my way through the crowd towards the barrels.
Once I arrive, the place is lonely. Not a mask in sight, much to my dismay. I pour myself a glass of the liquid in the second barrel. My face scrunches in disgust at the taste of beer after assuming wine.
A hollow laugh erupts beside me, making me whip my head towards them. “I suppose the second barrel isn’t red wine tonight, is it?”
It was the stag. His appearance brings a smile to my face. “Stag.”
“My knight, I love tonight’s mask. A lamb, yes?” I nod. “It looks beautiful on you.”
I turn back to my drink, wishing the mask covered more of my lower face. “I believe you promised me dinner, Stag.”
“I did. How could I forget?” He offers me his arm. “Shall we be off? My home isn’t far from here.”
Hesitantly I link my arm around his, letting him lead me to his abode.