Chapter Text
“They say he refused a noble fairy hospitality when she was dressed in the guise of an old begger woman, and so she cursed him with the mask,” Thjazi explained.
“I always wonder about figures like that in these old stories,” Hal said, picking up speed to catch up with Thjazi's enthusiastic stride. “A grand fairy noble, and how do they want to spend their time? Punishing mortals for rudeness.”
“It's a rich person thing,” Thjazi said with an easy grin. “No matter the plane of existence you find them on, those of nobility and wealth are truly the biggest shits you'll ever find there.”
Hal snorted. “I’ll write that down, shall I?”
Thjazi waved his hand. “No need, it's implied, save your ink for a more interesting ghoul than a noble.”
Hal shook his head fondly. “A lot of these songs and stories are about secret royalty, or marrying princes, or rescuing princesses.”
“You're right, you'd better do some edit–ah! There! Look! My source wasn't lying. You owe me something good now!” Thjazi nudged him.
“I don't remember making that promise,” Hal huffed. He followed where Thjazi pointed. Through the thick trees he could just make out a crumbling manor. The forest had half claimed it.
“But you complained and said: Thjazi, this is a wild goose chase. We're going to get lost in the middle of the forest and eaten by wolves all because you want to get your hands on a cursed mask.”
“I'm not wrong,” Hal said sternly. “We might still get eaten by wolves. And trying to find a cursed mask seems like a terrible way to spend an afternoon.”
Thjazi wagged his finger in his face. “This is why you owe me something good. I think a poem. A poem about how clever and brave I am. I'm open to suggestions though.”
Hal scoffed. “O brother, thy cleverness can not be matched, thy bravery unbeaten. Until one day the wolves come, and the two of us are eaten–”
Hal startled. Under his brother's laughter he could have sworn he heard…
“I'll take it--what?" Thjazi asked, noticing his trepidation.
“Shh,” Hal pressed a finger to his lips. “I thought I heard something.”
“Your tiresome wolves?”
“Shh,” Hal repeated softly. He strained his ears, but didn't hear anything. Just the wind in the leaves and bird calls.
He frowned. He thought…
“Can I talk yet?”
“Yeah… yeah I just … I thought I heard someone laughing.”
“You did,” Thjazi said. “Me, it was probably a weird echo.”
“Yeah… you're probably right.”
“Listen,” Thjazi said, putting a hand on his chest to stop him. “I know you'd rather stick to the villages and cities, but artifacts are where the real gold is. I'm not passing up opportunities when they've paid off for me before. I don't have your voice, I don't have your words, and my talents lie elsewhere.”
Hal sighed. The old argument.
“I just worry. What if you find something you can't handle in there?”
“Then it was nice knowing you,” Thjazi said cavalierly.
“Thjazi!” Hal scolded.
“I'll be careful, dad,” Thjazi rolled his eyes, but his smirk was fond. “You know I'm always careful. And if it's bad I'll run, and if I'm not fast enough you go back and get help, and if I'm dead write something sad and sentimental, but don't blame yourself. I would be doing this with or without you.”
That was the deal. Traveling bard, dashing adventurer. Sticking together on the road for safety, but Thjazi didn't want him helping.
He had been like that as a kid. Stubborn and independent. His first full sentence was: “I'll do it all by myself!”
Hal could offer a healing word for after, or a bit of inspiration beforehand, but Thjazi refused to let him follow in the dark caves or old ruins.
‘I worry too much when you're with me," Thjazi would say, shooing him toward some out of the way hiding spot.
I'm supposed to be the big brother. I'm the one that's supposed to protect you. Hal wanted to counter.
They came to the edge of the clearing. The manor was old and run down. It seemed abandoned. That was a good sign. Thjazi had fallen into nests of criminals before who took shelter in places like this, forgotten to time.
Thjazi squeezed his shoulder. “Wait here,” he ordered. He pulled out his tools.
His little brother had certainly gotten good at picking locks, Hal thought helplessly.
“Thjazi?”
Thjazi turned, raising an eyebrow, expecting more argument.
“No beast could ever bear his blade, the brave and clever hero.” Hal's voice reverberated. He hoped the silly little poem might inspire his brother toward a careful approach.
His brother grinned. He bowed playfully and moved through the long grass toward the side to find his entrance.
Hal moved back and found a sturdy looking tree. He climbed up where he was more hidden, but would have a good view in case there were people here. He had been able to talk them out of some scrapes before.
Also good to be heigh up if there really were wolves.
He waited. After a tense half hour a sharp whistle from Thjazi signaled there was no sign of life. From a second story window he watched his brother wave enthusiastically.
He waved back, but couldn't bring himself to smile.
Just waiting then, and hoping if there was something magical in there Thjazi would be able to handle it.
He took out his lyre, picking at a tune he had been working on.
It filled the silence and helped to keep his mind off things, but daylight was starting to dim, and the lyre's song felt more haunting than soothing.
He stopped. It had been too long. Hadn't it been too long?
He whistled, waited for Thjazi to signal back, but there was nothing. He scrambled back down the tree, falling the last few feet. He cursed, leaning against the trunk.
“Don't stop.”
Hal inhaled in fright. He looked around. No one. He quickly circled around the tree.
And froze.
A man leaned against the tree, head tilted to the side. How long had he been there?
He was a stark contrast of black and red that only served to draw the eye to the clay mask adorning his face, lit with glowing blue sparks where the eyes should be.
Hal stumbled back.
“Your song was beautiful,” the masked man said. He pushed himself off the tree and took a step closer. He tilted his head, the mask–the mask shifting into a smile. “I’d love to hear more.”
“I… I can play more, my lord–”
“I'm not a lord.”
“But–” Hal forced himself to keep his voice calm and smooth. “I need to find my brother.”
“Ah,” the man sighed in understanding, his figure was all shadow and crimson in the falling dusk. “Brothers. Yes, that's right. You do have a passing resemblance I suppose,” he allowed.
“You’ve seen him then?”
“Breaking into the old manor? Yes.”
Shit.
“We didn't realise it was occupied. We did not mean to trespass.”
The man laughed. He leaned in, grey lips pulling up further. “Perhaps not you, but certainly he did,” then he straightened. “But it's not my home. It's nothing to me. People can break in all they like.”
“You don't live here?”
The man looked unimpressed with the assertion.
He was dressed finely, not a stitch out of place. He would suit a masquerade ball, not a darkening forest by a crumbling manor.
“Well,” Hal said, breathing quickly. “I should find Thjazi.”
“Of course, only… I didn't get your name. I would love to know the artist of such an enchanting tune.”
It should feel like a trap, yet the strange man seemed genuinely curious.
All the fairytales about lost travelers stolen away by fey. Offering unintentional insult or service flooded his mind.
He gave a polite bow.
“My friends call me Hal,” he said shortly.
The man laughed, surprised. “Are we friends then?”
“Why not?” Hal shrugged. He shifted on his back foot, watching carefully.
“Alright,” the man said slowly, as if he was tasting the concept. A pleased smile graced the mask’s lips. “Alright, Hal. I am Bolaire Lathalia.” He did a flourishing bow. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my friend.”
“A pleasure,” Hal echoed. “Now I really must–”
“Find your brother, yes… you seem nervous, Hal.”
“There's a story of a cursed man that wears a mask who once lived here.” Cards on the table. He couldn't take waiting for what would happen to happen.
“The one you speak of is long dead,” Bolaire replied, he sounded… amused. He took a step forward and Hal stepped back.
“You're trembling, Hal.”
“Where's my brother?” Hal demanded. “No more games. What have you done to him?”
“He wanted something from me. Usually it’s something I would hand over gladly, but this time I declined. Then I wanted something from him, he also declined. He started it. I finished it.”
Hal gasped. No! He faced back to the manor.
Bolaire grabbed him by the arm.
“He's not dead,” Bolaire whispered in his ear. “Not yet.”
Hal wretched his arm away and spun to face Bolaire again.
“What have you done to him? What do you want?”
“He’s simply locked away right now. I only asked for a simple introduction, but he got very defensive. The house isn't mine, but I know it well enough. He was outmanouvered, but is mostly unharmed. Anyway, I've some time yet. Come stay with me. If you do, then he can go, but if you go, then I'll have to keep him. It's not often suitable creatures come all the way out here. I’m afraid you need to make it worth my while. He would be … appropriate.”
“Appropriate for what?”
“But,” Bolaire said, coming closer again, and this time Hal stood, frozen in place.
“But,” Bolaire repeated gently. A gloved hand moved up and curled around Hal's cheek. “I have some time, and I want to hear more of your music.”
Hal silently nodded.
Bolaire's eyes widened in surprise. “You'll actually stay?”
He let go of Hal's cheek, pulling away as if burned.
“Only if you let him go.”
“Deal!” The answering grin was eerie. The mask’s lips parted to show teeth.
It was also… terribly genuine in its excitement.
Bolaire gestured elegantly and bowed again, offering Hal his hand as if he were asking for a dance at an elegant ball.
Hal hesitated, then took it.
The leather of the glove was cold, the hold firm.
Bolaire led him toward the manor.
“I thought you said you didn't live here,” Hal said accusingly.
“Dead gods forbid,” Bolaire replied.
The last of the red light of dusk fell away and it was dark. Even having darkvision it was challenging to see the step ahead, but Bolaire moved confidentiality.
“No,” Bolaire continued, “I don't live here. I've a place nearby much more to my tastes.”
Hal shivered, twin blue stars pinned him before turning back to their path.
“This place is convenient for luring people like your brother.”
“So it's a trap.”
“I'm afraid so, Hal.” Bolaire squeezed his hand, as if in apology.
Hal wanted to pull away, but Thjazi was in there somewhere at this man's … this creature’s mercy.
Bolaire took out an old key and unlatched the door leading him inside.
He hadn't let go of Hal's hand.
“Through here. There's stairs. Please do be careful.”
Hal slowly felt his way down pitch black stairs.
He was all tension, waiting for Bolaire to strike.
This was a trap. There wasn't going to be a deal. Pull away and run. Get help.
But if there was a chance…
Hal winced, light shining in his eyes as Bolaire opened a door. Bright candle light and…
“Thjazi!” He rushed into the room, tugging Bolaire forward who hadn't let go of his hand. Bolaire finally released him. Hal knelt in front of the makeshift cell where his brother sat.
“Hal! Damn it! What are you still doing here?” Thjazi asked in panic. Thjazi reached through the bars grabbing his brother's hands. “You can't trust it! Whatever it's said to you–”
“Hal and I have formed an agreement!” Bolaire said cheerfully.
“No!” Thjazi said vehemently. “Of the two of us I'm the better choice. I’m stronger. A bit younger.”
“Can you play music like him?” Bolaire asked, but he didn't sound like he wanted to change his mind.
“No,” Hal said quickly, glaring at his brother who started to protest. “He can't.”
Bolaire shrugged carelessly. “Well then.” He held out his hand and a key of glass formed. “This will get him out, but if he uses it too soon it will shatter. He'll need to wait until dawn.
“Fuck you!” Thjazi growled viciously.
“How will he know it's dawn?” Hal asked.
“It will turn red. Clever little trick if I do say so myself.”
“This is not happening. You can't have him!” Thjazi roared, rattling the bars.
Bolaire handed Hal the key.
“I'll give you two a moment, shall I? But don't dawdle, Hal, it's a bit of a walk.”
Bolaire's steps retreated. Hal turned back to his brother.
“Hal,” Thjazi said. His voice had gone very calm. “I need you to listen to me. The thing is a liar. It will say whatever it has to to get what it wants.”
“And what does it want–?”
“You,” Thjazi said, voice raw.
"But what does that—?”
“Listen to me! There’s a door to the left behind that tapestry, move quietly. It's a steep incline, but you should be able to manage it. On the other side is a hidden door I rigged to stay open, go through the door. Two lefts. Out the window do you have it?”
“Thjazi–”
“Do you have it, Hal?”
"Yes, but."
A long sigh.
“No. No, no. It's very dramatic, very moving, but I'd rather Hal not break his neck in the dark.”
Bolaire was silhouetted in the door. “I said I'd give you a moment, I didn't say I wouldn't listen. If you're going to waste your goodbyes then come along Hal. The woods aren't safe at night. We should move quickly.”
Hal couldn't see the smile he was sure was there.
“We wouldn't want to be eaten.”
Thjazi hissed. “I'll destroy you. I promise you, if you hurt him, I’ll–”
Bolaire groaned. “This is trying my patience. Hal. Now.”
“Thjazi–”
“Run. The door–”
“Thjazi!” Hal said more firmly. Then he shook his head. "He knows this place, and if you got caught, what chance do I have? You always won when we raced, when we wrestled. I doubt it's much of a competition now."
Thjazi was trembling. “No, no. I was… I was supposed to protect you.”
Hal smiled painfully. “I'm the older brother. That's my job, remember?”
“Hal–”
“Be safe.” He placed the key in front of his brother. Glass. Delicate.
A gloved hand curved around the back of his neck possessively. Or maybe it was supposed to be comforting.
He stood, then suddenly turned. Bolaire's mask morphed into a visage of surprise.
“You're not bullshitting me?” Hal demanded. “The key will work?”
“I'm not lying to you, Hal. As long as he waits for it to turn red, it will work.”
Hal turned to Thjazi and dropped back down to his knees. He reached through the bars and grabbed his brother's face. “You're getting out of here. No arguing. I suggest you wait for the key to change colour.”
Thjazi didn't expect the spell, the reverberation moving through him. He blinked, then nodded.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Red. I'll wait.” He took the key.
Hal sighed in relief. “Good. Then… then I shouldn’t keep him waiting any longer.”
“No, you… did you? Fuck. That isn't fair. Hal,” Thjazi said, holding the key helplessly. “You don’t get it. He wants you.”
No more stalling, the cold gloved hand was on his shoulder.
“I love you, Thjazi. Stay safe.”
And he allowed himself to be guided back to the staircase.
"Hal! I'll find you. I promise!"
His brother's shouts faded in the distance as he was lead out of the manor and back into the dark woods.