Ludwig hesitated for a moment, staring at the mask in his hands. The carved wooden face, twisted into a haunting, sorrowful expression, bore an unsettling warmth. It was as if the hands that had shaped it were still alive, their essence lingering within. Finally, steeling himself, he placed it on his head.
The moment the mask settled over his face, his vision warped. The colors around him swirled and bled together, creating a kaleidoscope of hues before everything snapped back into sharp focus. Except now, there was an added clarity, as if a layer of fog had been lifted from the world.
“So, you can wear it,” the old man at the stall said, a puff of smoke escaping his pipe as his face split into a knowing grin.
Before Ludwig could respond, a familiar voice called out.
“Ludwig!”
Turning, he saw Hoyo and Kassandra weaving through the crowd toward him.
“Wow,” Hoyo said, taking in Ludwig’s appearance. “Interesting choice. Creepy, but… kind of suits you.”
“Definitely eerie,” Kassandra added, tilting her head to get a better look. “But there’s something oddly charming about it.”
Hoyo squinted at the mask, his curiosity piqued. “Wait a second. That doesn’t look like an ordinary mask. Is that… an artifact?”
“An artifact?” Ludwig echoed, confused.
“Yeah,” Hoyo replied. “Artifacts are old tools or gear that grant the wearer special abilities. They’re usually super rare and crazy expensive.”
“Well,” Ludwig began, pointing at the stall, “the owner said if I could wear it, I could have it for free.”
“Wait… what owner?” Hoyo asked, frowning.
“That old man right over—” Ludwig turned to point at the stall, only to find it gone.
There was nothing left but an empty wall where the vendor had been moments ago. He froze, confusion knotting his thoughts.
“I swear he was right here,” Ludwig said, scanning the surroundings. “How could he pack up an entire stall and vanish so quickly?”
Hoyo and Kassandra exchanged a glance, their skepticism evident.
“It’s not unusual for artifact peddlers to be a bit… eccentric,” Kassandra offered.
“Yeah, but disappearing into thin air?” Ludwig muttered, pulling the mask off.
[Since you are an undead and have no eyes, the Mask of the Blind effect has been neutralized. You can use your sight freely.]
The notification added another layer to his confusion, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it.
“We don’t have time for this,” Kassandra interrupted. “The event is starting soon, and I still need to sign up!” She pushed Ludwig and Hoyo forward, steering them toward the entrance to the Mage Masquerade.
The trio arrived at the event’s entrance, where they were greeted by a towering figure who looked like he belonged more in a gladiator arena than at a festival. His muscles strained against his clothes, and his mask—a laughing rabbit—looked comically small on his broad face.
“Put on your mask!” Hoyo said as he nudged Ludwig, the latter hastily placed it back on his face.
“Lovely masks,” the giant rumbled in a surprisingly gentle tone. “Please enjoy yourselves. And remember, do not remove your masks.”
The warning carried an odd weight, enough to make Ludwig glance at his companions.
“Got it,” Hoyo said, leading the way past the hulking figure.
Stepping through the entrance felt like entering another world. The vibrant chaos of the masquerade unfolded before them.
Magical performers were everywhere. Some ate fire and exhaled frost, while others juggled orbs of flame that burst into fireworks. Tightrope walkers balanced impossibly on hair-thin ropes, their assistants tossing heavy morning stars back and forth.
Stalls lined the pathways, selling everything from enchanted trinkets to strange, glowing foods. The air was thick with the mingling scents of exotic spices, roasted meats, and sweet confections.
Ludwig noticed the stark difference between the attendees. Nobles, identifiable by their extravagant masks and meticulously pristine attire, navigated the muddy paths with haughty care. Commoners, in simpler but no less creative masks, threw themselves into the festivities with abandon.
“This is insane,” Hoyo said, wide-eyed. “Even better than I remember!”
Kassandra nodded, her gaze darting from one performance to the next. “I don’t even know where to start.”
Ludwig, however, was distracted by something far stranger.
Amid the revelry, a spectral figure wandered. It moved hesitantly, its translucent form almost blending with the crowd. But Ludwig saw it clearly—a lost soul, its face obscured by a simple mask.
The soul seemed desperate, its hands outstretched as it tried to touch the living. But no one noticed. People walked through it without a second glance.
Suddenly, chains erupted from the air. Rusted and bloodied, they snaked through the crowd, wrapping around the soul’s limbs and neck. The specter struggled, its silent pleas growing frantic.
Finally, it locked eyes with Ludwig.
“HELP!” it screamed, its voice cutting through the din of the festival.
Before Ludwig could react, the chains wrenched tight and dragged the soul away. It disappeared into the shadows, its screams echoing in Ludwig’s ears.
He instinctively reached for his mask, thinking it might be the cause of the strange vision.
But the rabbit-masked giant from the entrance was suddenly beside him, his massive hand covering Ludwig’s.
“What are you doing, dear visitor?” the man asked, his tone polite but firm.
Ludwig hesitated, his fingers freezing on the mask’s edge. “I… thought I saw something.”
The giant’s gaze hardened. “A word of advice: the masks reveal as much as they conceal. And here, they are your bastion and your barrier, they serve to protect you and those around you. By removing it you’ll make yourself a target of the Mage Masquerade. Please keep your mask on at all times. lest you wish to be escorted out.”
Ludwig let out a slow breath, his mind racing. Whatever this mask was, it wasn’t just an artifact. It was something far older, far stranger—and far more dangerous.
“Ludwig?” Kassandra called, snapping him out of his thoughts.
He turned to see her and Hoyo standing a few steps away, watching him with concern.
“Let’s go,” he said, his voice steady despite the unease churning inside him.
The masquerade awaited. And Ludwig had the distinct feeling that this was only the beginning of what the night had in store.