Masked ✔

Chapter one

chapter one

"Masks cover up more than just faces."

It was late May, on a nice cool night. The type of night the moon's light burned through the clouds, casting its moonlight over my small hometown, Tipsia.

Tipsia was a tiny, quiet town on the coast of the country. The town was mainly populated by sailors and fisherman. There's not much that goes on in an old town like Tipsia. I mean, unless you want to count the occasional pirates.

Pirates come and go through the tiny town and take as much advantage as they can of our weak defenses. They all do the same thing: stop their ship at the dock, get off their ship, go to pubs, kidnap some people, mug others, rape a few women, that type of bullshit. Then, they'd just leave without a trace, taking whoever they kidnapped and putting them up for ransom or just forcing them to become some part of their crew.

I once met someone at the market who had been kidnapped by a group of pirates. He told me his story, starting with him just sitting quietly at the pub, enjoying his jug of beer, when two pirates came up behind him and knocked him out. He explained how he woke up days later and his new job was to mop the ship's floors. What's next? Wiping the crap off the pirate's asses? I mean, who kidnaps someone so they can clean for them?

Okay, if you just answered "pirates" to that, it was a rhetorical question, but you aren't wrong.

Pirates are greedy, but that goes without saying. They're all the same. They want to be rich, they want to be big and bad, they want to be acknowledged and feared, yada, yada, yada.

I was imagining what I would do if I had met a pirate as I sat on the front step of my aunt's home. I never had much to do and I was usually just left imagining silly scenarios. My aunt never gave much thought on my part when it came to entertainment. She never got me toys, dolls, not even books. I lived with her in her small cabin, close-by to the docks and ports.

If I met a pirate, if I met a pirate...

I scowled as I thought, trying to think of the best reaction I could possibly have.

Suddenly the wooden door behind me creaked ajar, and I turned around instantly. There stood Aunt Lori, holding something in her clenched hand.

"Vivi, would you mind going and fetching me a few things from the market? I need a few fruits. Two apples and three oranges to be exact." It was already six in the evening and she was sending me out to fetch something for her. She would usually ask me to do things earlier on in the day, but never near nightfall. Well, Aunt Lori was fat, round, and lazy. Lazy, lazy, lazy. She was well into her forties and I often questioned how she hadn't had a single strand of grey hair hidden in her black hair on her head.

"I don't see why not." I said with a sigh, stepping to my feet and holding a hand out.

"Thank you, Vivi. Your mother would be proud." She dropped a few bronze coins into my empty hand and I grasped them tightly. Those five words were what I often heard, "your mother would be proud, your mother would be proud." I didn't exactly see why any mother would be particularly proud that their child is going to the market to get some fruits, but I wasn't going to question my aunt.

The oak door shut with a soft click and I turned around, facing the cobblestone streets of Tipsia. With a small sigh, I stepped off the front step I had been standing (and previously sitting) on top of and began my way down the street, into the direction of the market, which was near a port.

On my way there I repeated in my mind:

Two apples, three oranges. Two apples, three oranges. Two apples, three oranges. Two pineapples - wait, was it apples or pineapples?