The Chromozerda in the CrystalThe morning of the Spring Ceremony was always filled with energy and excitement. Chromozerdas scurried back and forth with flowers, fungi, feathers, and beautiful stones. The agile, fox-like creatures had fur of all colors - brilliant reds, purples, and every color in-between. Their pointed ears were rabbit-like; yet their feet ended in small hooves. The creatures used the items they carried to make a ring of color around the outside of the grove at the center of their covert. In a nearby den, others used their hooves to crush berries, and flowers, and soft rocks into powders and dyes. It was a vibrant feast of color. Though unknown to most of the world, chromozerdas were responsible for all of the colors in it. The strange animals had almond-shaped skulls that ended in a heart-shaped nose. They had no need for jawlines, as they sustained themselves on the color wavelengths of the objects around them, which they absorbed through their fur. Primary and secondary colors were absorbed and released as tertiary; tertiary colors were broken down and released as primary and secondary. Alpenglow returned to the covert with orange blossoms grasped in her prehensile tail. The dark brown, nutrient rich soil was still clinging to the roots from where she’d ripped them from the ground. She was small, with a dull, dusty lavender coat. The vibrance of a chromozerda’s coat showed their strength and health. Their coats turned dull when they were sick or malnourished. But, Alpen’s had always been dull. All her life, she had been told that was why she was so much smaller than her siblings. She was simply born wrong. Alpenglow placed her flowers in the ring; then shouldered past the vines shielding the entrance of a den. The divining prism sat in the center of the room - a clear, highly reflective crystal that the elders received signs from. Alpen examined her dull, desaturated coat in the crystal’s surface. Long ago, the gods of Rain, Light, and Change banded together to create the chromozerdas - to bless the mortal realm with the gift of color. But, Change - being as flighty and unpredictable as he was - betrayed his sisters and tried to destroy the very species they’d created. They said that Change, having only a coat of grey, black, and white, had grown jealous of his vibrant children. Thankfully, his sisters banished him, saving the spectrums all over the world. Though, it was believed Change was always lurking, ready to poison the spectrums from within, and that he’d mark his subjects with desaturated colors. Alpen’s ears flicked back as her eyes scanned her pale coat, the white splotches on her face, and the dark stripe on her tail. The colors in her coat - the desaturated lights and darks - they were the marks of Change’s influence. She hid her tail behind her legs so she wouldn’t have to see it anymore. Having dull, desaturated colors not only was the mark of a frail chromozerda, but an unholy one. She was simply born corrupt. She could see two chromozerdas walking past the den in the crystal’s reflection. They had used chalk to further saturate their fur and wore complimentary colored flowers and feathers. It was a tradition to accentuate one’s best features for ceremonies. Alpen had no “best features,” she would simply have to settle for covering her worst ones. She turned to the purple chalk and began to scoop it with her tail, trying to make herself look presentable. <i>“Alpenglow?”</i> Ruby’s voice rang in her head. As chromozerdas had no mouths, they used telepathy to communicate instead. <i>“Ramalina’s spectrum has arrived.”</i> <i>“Can you help me cover the stripe on my tail?”</i> Alpenglow grimaced. <i>“You know it’s my worst feature…”</i> When she finally looked up at her former mentor, Alpen saw a face she knew all too well. The older chromozerda’s ears were pinned back, with her eyes squinting, and her brows furrowed. It was a look of pity. <i>“Alpenglow… You don’t have to pretend to be something you’re not.”</i> Alpenglow felt her skin turn to ice, her fur standing on end. <i>“Something I’m not? I’m just as pious as everyone else here. I’m just as <b>worthy</b> as everyone else.”</i> <i>“I didn’t mean it like that, Alpen… I just think you shouldn’t have to-”</i> <i><b>“Really?</b> Because it sounds like you don’t want me to <b>look</b> as faithful as I <b>feel.”</b></i> Alpen stood up, determined to stand her ground. <i>“Maybe… maybe my coat is a test from the gods! To shun Change’s mark. Did you ever think of <b>that?!”</b></i> She raised her tail, letting her fur harden into spikes - a chromozerda’s main weapon. <i>“Alpen…”</i> <i>“No! You didn’t! If you just came here to accuse me of blasphemy, then you can leave.”</i> Ruby straightened - her shoulders tall; her tail swept up. She looked as though she was about to give Alpen the lecture of her life. Alpenglow braced herself. Then, the fight seemed to leave Ruby just as it had come. Her shoulders sagged, her tail dropped, and she huffed softly through her nose. She padded out of the den without a word. Alpen dropped her own tail, relaxing her fur. Ruby was dark red, but she was a brilliant, saturated red. And, so long as you were saturated, it didn’t really matter how dark (or light) your coat got. Ruby would never understand what it was like; her experience simply wasn’t the same. She felt horribly sorry, though. Ruby had always been there for her. Maybe she’d overreacted. She made a move to go after her when a new voice rang in her head. “If it isn’t my little raincloud!” Alpen sank down into her coat, feeling grayer than ever. She tried to cover herself with her chalk-coated tail. But, she forced herself to perk her ears - it wouldn’t be right for him to see her sulk. <i>“Lichen!”</i> Lichen bounded towards her. He had a dark teal coat with a brilliant, seafoam green chest. He was gorgeous and confident. He was the son of Ramalina, leader of their neighboring spectrum. And Alpen was his to-be. They were to be bound next spring as mates, uniting their two spectrums. It was a political agreement, of course. But, of all the chromozerdas in Alpen’s spectrum, he had chosen <i>her</i> to be his mate. Nobody seemed to understand why. <i>“Need help putting your chalk on?”</i> Lichen asked, looking her over. <i>“Yes, please,”</i> Alpen sighed, relieved to have some help. Lichen helped her cover the dark stripe under her tail and dusted chalk onto the white splotches on her face, saturating her coat and covering her least desirable features. Once he’d finished, he turned her back towards the prism. <i>“Look at that clear sky! Not a grey cloud in slight!”</i> He wrapped his tail around her back. <i>“Aren’t you beautiful?”</i> Alpenglow examined the saturated purple stranger, who stared back at her with her blue eyes. She wanted so badly to believe that lie. Lichen placed a yellow flower behind her ear. <i>“And look! The sun has come out.”</i> He beckoned her with his tail, tugging her forward. <i>“Come on, darling. The ceremony is starting soon, and you know I have to walk out there with my to-be.”</i> There were nearly a hundred chromozerdas in the grove by the time Alpen and Lichen walked in. She pressed close to his coat - the spectrum was kinder to her when he was around. She saw Ruby in the crowd, but she either didn’t notice Alpen or was ignoring her. Ray and Ramalina, the leaders of their two spectrums, stood on a stump and raised their tails until a silence fell over the crowd. <i>“Thank you all for being here,”</i> Ray began, <i>“the union of our spectrums makes us stronger. Another harsh winter has ended, and, as the plants have provided for us throughout the cold, we must now provide for them.”</i> <i>“Take the energy from the items you’ve gathered and use them to provide energy anew,”</i> Ramalina ordered. As one, the crowd began to pull color from the ring around the grove. The items turned grey as their coats seemed to glow with color. For a moment, the crowd held the energy. Then, together, they released it to the trees and bushes in their covert, which exploded with dark leaves and colorful blossoms. Petals drifted down to the crowd as the trees shook. Alpen stared up at the yellow pollen raining onto her snout. She turned to Lichen, but he’d moved away to speak with others. She caught a glimpse of her tail as she turned. Even under all that chalk, she could still see her dull stripe. She would never be the chromozerda in the crystal… Seasons later, Alpenglow, no, <i>Penelope</i> stood on a dry, overgrown lawn. She had shed her name when her spectrum had cast her out. Lichen hadn’t been enough to raise her social status - in fact, he hadn’t even fought for her. No amount of chalk could change what she was. In some ways she found what had happened to be inevitable. She placed flowers and rocks around a single, scraggly bush behind a house that could desperately use a power wash and a new coat of paint. August, a blonde teen with the worst cowlick anyone had ever seen, sat on his knees beside her, placing colorful marbles in the grass. As a seer, August was one of the few humans in existence that could see chromozerdas as they really were. He’d found her and took her in after her spectrum had cast her out. Most days she tried to forget the spectrum, but the Spring Ceremony had always been special to her. She could never do the whole backyard by herself, but she could certainly do one bush. Having emptied the bag of marbles, August frowned at the ratty-looking shrub. “Won’t it bloom on its own?” Pen bumped August’s thigh with her shoulder. <i>“Of course it will. But, this is more fun. You’ll see.”</i> Penelope trotted over to the sidewalk chalk August has bought from the dollar store earlier that morning, crushing the purple stick beneath her hooves. “Penelope?” Pen turned her head to look at Domanic, who put the flowers he was holding into the pile without breaking eye contact. “What are you doing?” Domanic was a poppet-demon. He had pale yellow fur - nearly white - with black markings, rabbit-like ears, and twin tails. If her spectrum had seen him, he would have been a sign of the apocalypse. Penelope was quiet for a moment. <i>“…Just coloring my fur.”</i> She dabbed up some of the dust with her tail, watching the way the dust was displaced very intently. She could feel Domanic’s eyes on her, but she couldn’t look up. A part of her worried once she explained that Domanic would suddenly realize how dull she was - that he’d care. <i>“It’s a tradition during ceremonies to accentuate your best features.”</i> “Oh. Why didn’t you say so?” With a zipping pop and a flash of light, Domanic teleported out of the yard. Penelope felt her ears slowly lower. She realized she has secretly been hoping for more. For him to say something in protest. Something about him leaving made it worse - it was familiar and the wounds felt so fresh. She turned back to the chalk just as there was a new zipping pop, Domanic appearing right in her face. She tried to stumbled back, but Domanic was tying something around her neck. She craned to look once he let go and found a powder-blue ribbon around her neck. “Your eyes are, by far, your most beautiful feature,” Domanic explained. “…If we’re strictly speaking physically, of course.” Pen didn’t know what to say. She stared at him for a moment; his purple eyes were also bright against his dull coat. She rubbed some of the chalk on her tail down the bridge of his nose. <i>“…Your eyes are your most beautiful feature too.”</i> Domanic shrank back in shock before he closed his eyes, turning his nose to the sky. “Demons don’t have beautiful features. We’re fearsome.” “Well, I don’t know about fearsome, but you’re definitely not beautiful,” August said from across the yard. <i>“Silence Seer!”</i> Domanic snapped, glaring over his shoulder at August. After a moment, his fur flattened and he turned back towards Pen, blowing the chalk dust off her tail. “You don’t need that.” She almost protested. But… then she quietly wiped her tail off in the grass. Scooping the chalk bucket up with her tail, Pen carried it over to the bush. <i>“Okay. Are we ready?”</i> Domanic leaped up onto August’s head to watch as August grumbled in annoyance. Huffing in amusement, Pen turned to the bush. She readied herself into a stance so familiar and stole all the color from the objects piled in front of the bush before shooting it back into the plant. Leaves burst from the branches as red-orange blossoms bloomed all over. It wasn’t a spectacular shower of pollen and petals, but it was a beautiful burst of color in the rundown yard. The boys applauded, causing Pen to turn towards them. She caught her tail out of the corner of her eye as she turned. Somehow, it looked more vibrant than ever - just as it was.trophytrophyThe Masquerade BallA magnificent chandelier greeted guests as they entered the ballroom floor, illuminating the entire area with a soft, orange glow. Those who flocked underneath wore garments filled to the brim with silver and gemstones, and yet their beauty only seemed to excel with the elaborate masks that adorned their faces, a treat to all who gazed upon them. The crowd filled the space with delightful chatter, as they compared each other's wardrobes down to the finest detail. Concurrently, Jac stood alone near the hallway, her chin low with her fingers clasped together. Never mind the fact that she wore what she once thought was the prettiest aquamarine dress, topping it off with a vibrant yellow eye-mask decorated with patterns of roses and thorns. No, instead she felt like a sardine in a coy pond, which only aided in increasing her hesitation tenfold. "It would be a unique experience, that's what the lady who handed me the brochure said anyway.." Jac said in the tiniest voice. "But... where is he? He said he'd be here by now. And yet..." Days before, Richard voiced his reluctance to attend, something Jac should have listened to in hindsight. But the initial excitement of getting to wear her newfound outfit at a seemingly fun event won at the end of the day, and her best friend knew that he couldn't say no to that. They even planned on keeping what gown they wore a surprise, which upon recollection made her slap herself in the face. He could be anywhere in the crowd, anyone... To melt into the mass of masked people seemed inevitable, but it was hard enough when her anxiety was steadily crawling up her limbs. The pressure of everything collapsing down on her added more weight to her shoes. Minutes felt like hours, the young woman's shoulders slumping further with every one that passed. And worst of all, she couldn't shake off that loneliness she felt. Jac had half a mind to bolt away for something more humble. "That burger joint down the street looks appetizing. I'll... let Rich know there's been a change of plans." But just as soon she reached for her phone, suddenly, she noticed a peculiar figure in the corner of her eye. Someone who stuck out in the metaphorical fish pond. Dressed from top to bottom in a seal brown garment, a man with a dark plague doctor mask stumbled into view. He awkwardly tried to slip between the cracks in the swarm, bumping into a few shoulders along the way before he managed to break free. His inept legs took him far in the clearing before he straightened his posture, and this action gave him a direct view of the little lady who stood alone on the sidelines. Sure enough, the two locked eyes with one another. And somehow, in some inexplicable yet enchanting way, they paused in the sight of the other. And without a peep from either, they slowly drew closer. Whatever anxiousness Jac had, while still present somewhat, dissipated quickly the moment they met in close proximity. The man took his time to scan her from head to shoes, which in turn caused Jac to laugh in spite of herself. It was that height, that very gait, that posture.. there was no mistaking it. But before either of them could get a word in, a sharp buzz blasted from a speaker overhead. "May I have your attention please! The first dance of the gala will now commence! Please choose your partner, or multiple if you'd like, and get ready to dance to your heart's content! Remember folks, the most important thing is to have fun!" Soothing strings began to fill the room with a delicate, harmonious chord. The others in the crowd gathered the person adjacent to them, moving in tandem to the slow rhythm. At the same time, the two outside of the cohort turned their heads towards the other in an awkward silence. Jac could not pinpoint why the man who stood before her was so hesitant, but after a moment of contemplation she nodded. "Are you... perhaps waiting for my approval?" The masked man watched for a few seconds more before he slowly nodded back. "Of course. Why wouldn't I?" His voice was muffled, but this was all the validation Jac needed. She bowed her head low while extending an arm, her knees trembling slightly as he bended forward. "May I have this dance?" The man tilted his head slightly, another little quirk that reaffirmed her decision. "With pleasure." He replied after a small ahem. Their fingers intertwined, hand by hand, side to side. They soaked in each other's presence for one last moment, before they extended each other's arms and prepared for liftoff. And from there they soared, bounding in near perfect unison in their improvised waltz. They swung to and fro, making brisk steps across the dance floor; away from the bustling excitement of the rest of the crowd, they were free to spread their range as far as they wanted, as well as change styles on a whim. They spun clockwise and back, wounded their arms in a cartwheel, and shifted to what would best be described as a chicken dance shortly after. Their style was not perfect, far from it as they were both guilty of stepping on each other's toes at least once, but they nonetheless had a great time. And in the end, that was exactly what they hoped for. As soon as they caught wind of numerous eyeballs staring them down, the duo went right straight back into their slow waltz. They could not help but let a snicker escape them in turn. "It sure would be funny if I had picked the wrong guy." Jac said with a giggle. "It would." Richard replied. "Where were you? You left me hanging out there for a while!" "Sorry! Sorry.. I tried to text you but I couldn't get a good signal. I'll admit... I got lost." "...Me too. Well, the important thing is that we're together now." "Y-Yeah.." "So! What do you think of my outfit?" "Ah! You.. look stunning! That dress, the mask? Everything! It suits you well! I didn't think that you'd go all out! How much did it...?" "Believe me, it's a rental." "Ah! Makes sense. By the way, how did you figure it was me?" "Richard, let's face it. Compared to everyone else's wardrobes, you stick out quite a bit with how.." "Simple?" "Let's say how flugal, your clothes look." "Still not flattering." "You just pulled it out of your closet. I recognize your office party clothes when I see it! But... you still look nice." "The mask is a bit stuffy, I'll admit." "Don't get me wrong, I really dig the plague doctor aesthetic! Though as cool as it looks, I'll be honest, I do miss your face." "I miss your eyes, too." Jac gave out a tiny smile in response. "Hiccups and awkwardness aside, I'm glad we took a chance on this place. Get to scratch that one off of our bucket list." "I'm glad. Though I do have one teensy complaint. The food here is way too expensive." "I guess they gotta make their money somewhere." "Burger joint later?" "Yes please." With that, Richard placed a hand on her head. It was the same gesture that he would give when he was in his full height, and Jac appreciated it just as much now as ever. She leaned in on his chest, which no doubt took the Wile aback by how swiftly his head turned to the side. It wouldn't be long however before he gently folded his arms around her for deeper hug. What was once a nerve-wracking ordeal for them both turned into another night to remember. The duo continued their dance well into the night, soothed by the other's presence at last.trophytrophytrophygifMy Last SymphonyTruly, a celebration of a grandeur kind, fit for the most magnificent people. Ashmalor's half-hidden face was decorated with a smile of complacency as his gaze wandered among the crowd of fabulous people that had gathered in his grand ballroom. Everyone was wearing a mask, hiding their identities, but perhaps that would just encourage them to enjoy their time in this night's masquerade as they were free from the burden of their usual faces. As far as Ashmalor could see, this seemed to work, for people were drinking champagne, laughing, dancing; simply having a good time. It was part of the fun and thrill, not knowing the true identity of the other as you would approach them. And tomorrow, they will be just shadows of yesterday. Ashmalor saw beauty in that; he was a man with a fine taste. Lord Ashmalor was the host of this small-scale festival and he walked among the people like a proud peacock. He knew his worth as a noble man and those around him recognized this as well, greeting him whenever he would pass by, raise their drinking glasses for him and some would even give a slight bow or curtsy out of respect. Ashmalor enjoyed it all, being very much delighted with the masquerade. Whole ballroom was bathed in warm colors, emitted by marvelous chandeliers, crafted by the most skillful craftsmen there were. Such tones gave the space a lively nuance, which only complimented the overall ambiance of the celebration. A very talented pianist was trying his best to bring the most pleasant notes he could produce with his fingers for the guests to relish, filling the ballroom with his music. He performed well, the fact how delighted the people were to dance to his tunes was a clear proof of that. As an instrumentalist himself, Ashmalor was very impressed with the young pianist's work. The lord couldn't help but notice how much he resembled him in his younger days. He wondered where he had managed to find this fine young man. From the great windows that surrounded the dance hall, Ashmalor had been able to follow the passage of time. When the masquerade had started, the sun had been setting, painting the sky with colors that only the most skilled of artists could imitate. Guests had started to come in when the day was turning into night, as if they were creatures of darkness that would rejoice after the sun went down. Ashmalor hadn't been keeping track of time that carefully afterwards, the celebration had taken his attention almost completely. However, at some point he started to become a little distracted, like something wasn't quite how it should be. He couldn't get rid of the feeling, no matter how much he tried to get immersed with festivities. He had then glanced at the windows, seeing a night sky – just like one would assume. But there was something wrong with it, though he couldn't quite put a finger on what exactly. Once again Ashmalor tried to shrug it off and attempted to enjoy the masquerade. He was holding a glass of champagne as he watched his guests from the side, feeling odd. Then he shifted his gaze at the liquid he was drinking; a sparkling light drink. Absent-mindedly he swirled the champagne in its glass before he took a sip from it. It looked, smelled and tasted like it should, and yet there was something strange about it, too. This bothered Ashmalor greatly. Once the lord had drank his glass empty and placed it on one of the side tables, he decided to find a dance partner for himself – maybe that would get his mind back on track. He took a dive into the stream of people, becoming one with the flow. A lone maiden came on his way, dressed in a yellow gorgeous dress and was wearing the same kind of mask most of the women had; a well-decorated one that hid the upper half of their face. The woman noticed Ashmalor approaching her, immediately realizing what his intentions were. Her lips curved into a smile and she performed a curtsy for the lord. Ashmalor showed his respect for her by giving a slight bow in return, and after this move, they began to dance. It was like their bodies were intertwined by the music, their movements flawless and elegant. The dance of the lord and the unknown woman soon became the center of attention as a lot of guests stopped momentarily what they were doing and watched them. And for a little while, Ashmalor forgot his little predicament. But not for long. His perfect dance with the woman he didn't know suddenly started to get filled with imperfections. It started with little things. The woman in front of him was supposed to be flesh and blood, so why did she all of a sudden start to feel cold to touch? Her lips were moving, she wanted to say something to him, but Ashmalor couldn't hear a single word. When the lord tried to make eye contact with her, there was nothing but blackness staring back at him. This darkness began to spill; Ashmalor witnessed how black tears were dripping and staining the woman's cheeks. Profoundly perplexed by these changes in his dance partner, he eventually let go of her and looked around him. The whole crowd had started to turn just like the woman. Wherever lord Ashmalor would look, there were black eyes staring back at him. He was the host of the masquerade, he was supposed to be the focus of attention, so he didn't really feel bothered by the gazes of blackness. The lips of some of the guests moved slowly, but no words came out of them. And now that he paid attention to it, the piano music had begun to fade as well, veiling the ballroom in silence. Lord Ashmalor couldn't understand what was happening and it seemed like nobody could explain it to him, either. However, he wasn't frightened, just utterly confused. Aimlessly he started to wander among the crowd, all their eyes on him, and he tried to comprehend what was happening. Was this real? Or was this a dream? He attempted to go backwards in his memories, to the moment when the masquerade had started. The beginning… Where was the beginning, though? Ashmalor soon came to the realization that he had a huge memory gap at the place of time when the celebrations had started. Being completely bewildered, he walked to one of the great windows and looked outside – and all the black-eyed guests gazed with him. The sky was black like void, it didn't appear natural at all; the lord wondered how a human eye could even perceive something as dark as how heaven looked at that moment. Even more unreal it became as the small twinkling lights Ashmalor had assumed to be stars began to fall from the black canvas. One by one they dropped and crashed against the world below and watching this unfold gave yet another puzzling sensation for the lord. Wherever the fallen stars landed, they would make a piece of the scenery Ashmalor saw from the window disappear with them. Little by little the town that surrounded his castle vanished from his reality as if it had never even existed. There was just nothingness. Except for one thing. A beautiful moon was still in its place in the sky, even though everything else had fallen. Since the rest of the world was gone, it was only natural that Ashmalor's eyes would seek the moon's presence. Somehow the great silvery sphere looked exceptionally magnificent that night and, in his heart, the lord made a wish for the moon, pleading with it to give him answers so his mind could be at ease. And the brilliant orb, the storyteller of the nights and the guide to those who sought understanding of the many mysteries of the world, it responded to the lord's wish and revealed him the truth. The divine moonlight was like a blessing and Ashmalor closed his eyes. It was the inevitable fate of a mortal man that had now occurred to him. This was his last celebration, the final festivity his grand ballroom would hold. Before his soul would move on, he was allowed to host the masquerade, as a finale of his luxurious life. Ashmalor was grateful for this. He thanked the moon and he thanked the unknown entity who had made it possible for him to enjoy his time just a little bit longer. When Ashmalor opened up his eyes again, he noticed that now the moon was gone as well. In his heart the lord bid the sphere a farewell, for this was possibly the last time they would see each other. He turned his back to the window and met his guests again. The warm colors that had previously dominated the ballroom were now gone. Everything had taken the tones of dark brown and sickly green; those were the colors the lord associated with the passing of a soul. Perhaps they were now getting towards the ending of the celebration of his life. Every single person in the crowd was smiling at lord Ashmalor, even though their eyes were still black and so were their tears. They were here to say their goodbyes and as the lord began to walk among them once more, he wondered if there was a deeper meaning these guests were secretly holding. Maybe behind those masks were all his hopes and dreams, his plans and ambitions, and melodies he wouldn't be able to play. And yet, he felt like he had managed to live a fulfilling life. And for that life, he decided to give one more symphony. The young pianist who had earlier delighted the guests with his music was now gone, taking the only sound of the ballroom with him. However, the piano was still there standing on its designated place. It was such an elegant instrument, being completely black except for masterfully crafted golden adornments. Lord Ashmalor walked to the piano and sat down on the seat in front of it, moving gracefully and in a ceremonial manner. He let his hand wander on the piano's surface a little; it felt so smooth to touch. His guests were waiting patiently for him to begin, standing solemnly around the ballroom. Gently the lord put his fingers on the keys and started to play. The dance hall that had remained completely silent for a while was now getting liveliness back into it through the lord's music. He started to play the same melodies as the young pianist had before vanishing, having a striking similarity in skill. Although his guests couldn't speak and express their admiration through words, they could still hear. And so, as the music began to flow in the ballroom, people started to dance once again, as a compliment for the lord's excellent performance. Lord Ashmalor poured his heart and soul into the music he created with the movements of his fingers, for this was the last time he would be able to play the melodies that someone could hear, even if that someone meant a crowd of shadows that lived in between the realms of the living and dead. But for him, it was enough. He played the most beautiful tunes he had learned during his lifetime, ranging from those he had first heard as a young man to songs he had learned later in life. Music had been his passion ever since he was a little boy, thanks to his father who had shown him the magnificent world of art that lay within the keys of the piano. It was only fitting for Ashmalor to end his time in the world of mortals by a musical performance. When the lord thought that this little farewell concert was approaching its end, he started to play one more song. It was a piece he had composed all by himself, his last symphony for life. And perhaps, this piece of music could act as a perfect medium for his soul to pass onto the afterlife. As the notes lingered in the ballroom's air, his masked guests started to eventually fade away. Never stopping their elegant movements, one by one the people in the dancing hall took more transparent forms until they vanished from sight completely. In the end, only Ashmalor remained, still letting his music fill the ballroom after the last guest had left him. Then he stopped. Ashmalor was surrounded by silence. Slowly he stood up from his seat, holding a single thought close to his heart: he was ready. When he instinctively turned around, he was greeted by a foreign figure, someone he hadn't met before and yet, he felt like he had just reunited with an old friend. He was face to face with a tall entity who had their whole body covered by a black cloak. A completely white mask resembling a face of some sort of canine was the immediate center of attention since it stood out so well from the otherwise black mass. The entity didn't utter a single word, instead, they just offered their black hand for the lord. Ashmalor understood perfectly what this gesture meant and he reached out, taking a gentle hold of the creature's hand. The mysterious being then pulled him in a little before they turned to face the opposite direction, guiding the lord to follow them. As they moved, this dream-like reality around them started to collapse, sinking into the void. The lord felt no fear even as his familiar surroundings became nothingness, he knew the entity would guide him to safety. One must walk the path of darkness before they could bask in the radiance of the nurturing light.trophytrophytrophytrophy