The Legendary Mask - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

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The Legendary Mask








With a thud, Rafe’s head hit the ground hard as he landed. Silence and darkness followed. A cold, earthy smell appeared as he opened his eyes, though for a moment the darkness made him doubt whether his eyes were even open. Blinking furiously, he noticed two images of Sam above him, swaying back and forth. Dizzy and disorientated, he pushed himself up, allowing his eyes to slowly accustom themselves to the dark.
       He was inside an earthy cavern with a pervasive smell of damp and mould. Why it was there and what its purpose was, was not immediately apparent. Sam’s silhouette was way above him. 
     “Rafe! Are you alive?” he was yelling.
     “I’m all right Sam!” he called up. His head was swimming with cloudy thoughts, and his arm stung. Something sharp had caught it on the way down and oozing blood warmed his flesh. “Can you get me out?” 
     Sam vanished for a minute and Rafe could hear crunching and snapping. He returned with a tree root and threw the end of it down. Rafe tried to grab it but it was dangling way higher than he could reach.
     “I’ll find another one!” Sam cried, disappearing into the darkness once more. 
     Now, completely alone, Rafe sat trapped inside the earth. There was nothing he could use to climb out. Fearfully, he searched the darkness, studying every inch of his prison until suddenly he bumped into something solid. Exploring the shape of it with his hands, he soon realised why the crumbling bricks had been laid.
     He was in a crypt. 




    Rafe felt the walls tremble and a curiosity sparked inside his veins. He had the odd sensation of being inside a dream. The tomb his hands had found was rumbling, almost as if something inside of it was trying to get out. Rafe put his hands against the sides and felt around the edges of the stone. He tried lifting it open, hoping beyond hope that some terrifying creature of the dark wasn’t about to jump out of it and kill him.
     The tombstone scraped and screeched in protest but it moved just an inch, breaking the seal. Rafe stepped back in awe as light emanated around the crypt, something inside the tomb shining bright enough to light the walls. It seemed to urge him on and Rafe pushed the lid harder, with sudden ease. With a great crack, the lid tore itself from its resting place, falling with a loud crash to the ground. Rafe’s eyes couldn’t peel themselves away from the sight before him. Cautiously, he urged his body closer, wanting to peer inside, yet fearful of what he might find. He was not afraid of seeing a corpse, for that he had seen before, but the unknown. Whatever lay inside didn’t feel dead at all. It felt alive and Rafe wasn’t sure how he felt about that yet.
     His eyes rested on a golden mask covering a skull. A light, brighter than anything he had ever seen before, emanated from the mask. Illuminating the entire crypt, its glow enabled him the skeleton lying peacefully inside its resting place. Its jaw, uncovered by the mask, was upturned as though in death, the being had smiled. Rafe studied it. Metal armour coating its ribcage, shin plates over its legs. Very much like the strange man who had led him here.
    An epitaph above the coffin lay under his fingertips. Now that there was light he could read the words.
     Here rests in honoured glory, a Captain, known to all, feared by many and loved by those he served.  
     He had died in battle, that much was clear. And only men of great importance were buried in crypts, though someone had taken much care in keeping this one hidden. Gently, Rafe bent down beside the dead man and without taking his eye off the skeleton, he studied the gold metal covering what was his face. Unable to prise his eyes from it, he lifted the mask carefully away from the bones and as he did, a scroll fell from the skeleton’s hand. Startled at first, Rafe stumbled a few steps back. Then, when the silence gave him a little courage, he moved closer and took the scroll from the coffin, unfolding the papyrus carefully.   
     I hide myself in death. The Keeper is with me. Until this land finds peril once more, I pray that Cherubim’s Mask may find a worthy head. Good luck dear friend.
     A breeze swirled around him and Rafe shivered. A legendary mask? He toyed with it in awe of how it gleamed far brighter than any gold he had ever seen. Far brighter still than the moon above him. 
     His breath caught as, in surprise he noticed his own blood spoiling the golden shine. Lifting his torn shirt, he felt the flesh of his arm, open and oozing.
     “Ouch,” he winced. His hand now trembling, he could not resist the urge to try on the mask. Sliding his head through the metal, he suddenly felt warm. A ringing in his ears hummed like the distant clanging of metal swords. Two wings were moulded into the metal, springing out of the head like curls of hair. Rafe felt for a moment that he was marching to the front line of battle. The humming grew louder until it became a chant. He thought briefly that he heard his name, though lost for a moment in awe of this new treasure, he was taken by surprise when someone touched his bloodied arm. He spun around so quickly that the mask fell from his head with a great thud on the earthy floor.
     Nobody was there.
     He felt his arm, the pain suddenly vanished and he was astonished to realise that the blood had stopped flowing.
     “What the…” he exclaimed.
     Rafe picked the mask back up and held it close. Exhilarated by the touch of it and enchanted by its angelic sight, he stood alone and in deep thought inside the old crypt. Though he knew nothing about the legendary Mask, he knew that it was good. Something supernatural had come from it and healed his wounded arm. A strange peace fell upon him as he wore it. His mind was clear and bright. He felt stronger, braver and bolder. Though still, as he waited for Sam to find something he could climb, he could not suppress the feeling in his heart that all things would change because of it. 
     He was right. That was when all of his troubles began.    
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