The House Of Blood and Dust, Book One: Darkness Rising

The Land Of Do-As-You Please

I’ve painted this mask to look like a clown, a normal white mask to cover my face when I am doing things. The eye-holes, I’ve painted black around them in a messy way, the mouth has red lips and bloody scars; a smile that I have given to it’s sad face, that too is messy like blood, like the crimson has just seeped from the wound that I have given to it. The plastic of this mask is durable enough for it not to break if I fall on it whilst running; I wouldn’t wish for it to impale me. I stare into the mirror, vanity I assume but I cannot help but try and stare into my soul; this scar on the right side of my face, much like the smile I’ve given the mask, I was given this out of love and hatred, passion and lust. The half smile as it has been called at college by the imbeciles within its walls. Brown long hair to my collar bone and pale blue eyes both like my dead father; beard on my face for which I stroke and smile, a false smile. I’ve trained to fight and honed my skills through my twenty years in this life, so I am muscular but small in height.  

          “Brother, are you ready?” Zachary Reotheon, my half brother: blonde short hair and mixed coloured eyes, green for his left and blue for his right; his beard is thinner than mine, more groomed than allowing it to grow. Zachary is bigger in both ways than me, taller and stronger.

          “Yes, I just need to find my sword.”

          “Avenji, its downstairs… much like your food.” I laugh and pick my black hoodie from the floor, dressed in black skinny jeans and a slim-fit grey t-shirt. I have leather gloves as well and upon my arms are tattoos, designs from around Garask: Elven, Dwarven, Human, ect. I would invest more time in other races but they are tribal. Spilt into two factions across the whole world; the Ali’kian Kingdoms consisting of Human, Elf and Dwarf, then we have the Kalhin Empire, the beast men.

          “Then I shall meet you downstairs, dear brother.” The blonde man smiles and walks down the stairs. My room being the mess that it is, it’s rather hard to find things, so upon the floor there may in fact may be firearms that I shouldn’t own as they are illegal within Fames; clothes litter the floor mostly. I climb over them and walk through the painted white wooden door, closing it behind me.

          Down the stairs and into the living room where my friends and brother are, I sit next to Michael Parador: the elf lived most of his life in a wood with a camp of his family and other families; I don’t know why he came here but he’s here now. His appearance much like a human but his ears give him away leaf shaped and poking through his long blonde hair, clean shaven with piecing green eyes, he’s beautiful like any elf, but for a human that is the definition of beauty, unlike a dwarf which is the definition of drunk.

          “Avenji, can I look at your mask?” Proditor Xion, a halfling; mother being the elf, father the perverted human with little respect for anything other than advancing , his ears are in fact human, hair curly and light brown kind of making him look like a mad scientist; odd thing is that he’s a chemist and he likes fire. His eyes are green but pale. I pass him the painted mask,

          “Are you not going to use one once again, Proditor?” Proditor is a mage, his mother and father are teachers at the Arcane University; he wears black hooded robes a lot of the time. Michael uses a bow, old fashioned but can shoot it better than any man can fire a gun. He is dressed in black skinny jeans and a bullet proof vest with a hood attached to it,

          “No, I do not need one only you three seem to don them.” Zachary comes out of the kitchen with food and places the plates upon the glass coffee table.

          “That is very nice, brother… a face to remember.” I look at the chicken burger and pick it up with both hands, taking a bite even though the food is hot it still doesn’t burn as much as it should, the taste though bland is still tender and beautiful. The others are eating away; Proditor gives me the mask back which I place on the arm of the sofa,