(Page 1 of 2) Masked Beauty by Roe Radiant
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SUMMARY: Entry for the March '09 Flash Fiction contest,(theme: The Tournament): The early history of the infamous thief “Hundreds faces”.Hele knew it's going to hurt like hell; she took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
The narrow passage beside the Grand Canal swarmed with a surging of congregated crowd. The whole road turned a shade darker, painted with the dull color of garments they wore, then sparkled with multitude of bright colors, shown from the slit of their clothes, as they moving.
Hele staggered to the side road, disoriented with the sudden change.
"First time attending the Carnival of Waella?" someone chuckled from behind. "Don't worry, you'll get used to the slashed clothes in time."
She looked at the speaker; a small man standing behind the stall, he took down black clothes from the hanger rack and unveiled a cut on the clothes. The cut exposed another hidden color from the red clothes glaring underneath.
"The slashed clothes, it's the gem of carnival. Ah, young master!" he screamed in delight as Hele fingered the mask on the table. She turned her head on impulse, looking for the person which the vendor addressed, then realized he was talking to her. She cursed silently, annoyed at herself for forgetting the fact that she still wore Marius face, the only painting she could find after surviving the burn.
"That's an excellent choice! It's the face of Sola, goddess of Love, Wealth, Beauty, and Magic, which I, Pitto Neroli, sculpted it myself. A fantabulous beauty, isn't it?"
"Yes, it's beautiful," Hele said, modulated her voice an octave higher and added a rough edge masculine to it.
"Ah, I know! You are going to give it to your woman for the upcoming pageant beauty. I'll let you have it for seven Rame, how about that?"
She had heard about the pageant beauty contest at the last day of carnival where the winner will be crowned with Queen Regia's tiara. To be a queen for one night, dancing at the palace until the dawn arrived, where the magic waned and the tiara returned. What a joy that would be.
She fingered the coin in her pocket and felt six coins rubbing against each other. Six copper coins, just one Rame short then.
She put the mask back on the table; the tip of her finger still touching the mask. "You valued it too high. I'll have it for four copper."
"But it's one of a kind!" cried Mr. Neroli. "Not some identical cheap masks sculpted by an apprentice."
"Five."
Mr. Neroli brow's puckered. He pondered and waited for another bargain to commence. When the forthcoming offer doesn't come, he resigned a sigh. "You drive a hard bargain, young master."
"It's a deal, then," Hele gave five Rame coppers and hurried away. She still has a coal and another mask to buy.
A large bead of sweat perspired on her forehead, trickled down, and obstructing her eyes. She wiped it with the damp towel on her hand, already soaked wet with sweat, as she arranged the burning coal inside the hearth. The room temperature growing hot by the minute. She had arrayed the coal inside the hearth to cover the iron mask which she bought from blacksmith Gedi.
When the room began pouring out a steam from the burning coal and she can't stand anymore heat, she gripped the wood handle and took the iron mask out.
Her hands trembled, holding the handle of scorching fiery red iron mask.
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