Chapter 1 - The Masquerade Thrall: Chapter Two

One Week Later

B'rail and Kristjyn spent most of the week hunting for costumes. Outfits in their size were hard to find, especially given their insistence on quality. But it became something of an adventure for the lovers, as they wandered from stall to stall and town to town in search of something that they could use. Eventually, they settled on cobbling together costumes that they could both enjoy. 

Kristjyn found a fancy blue waistcoat with polished orange buttons. He also wore a pair of spectacles polished black shoes and a modestly snug pair of hose. It made him resemble the famed investigator Briardien. B'rail, meanwhile, purchased a pair of knee-high boots with buckles on the sides and a snug and sturdy coat that folded over from left to right. A pair of sturdy gloves completed the look so she resembled the Ishgardian watch captain, Hilda the Mongrel.

B'rail was proud of their cobbled-together costumes. So much so that she had convinced herself that the party wasn't a problem. She wanted to believe that she was just being too cautious for her good. And eventually, Kristjyn's enthusiasm drowned out her concerns. She tucked away her concerns in the back of her thoughts.

But she had second thoughts as she stood before the manor gates.

The entire grounds were surrounded by a cold stone fence that gave off the impression of a fortress. The large metal gates squeaked and whined as the wind batted it back and forth. And the house itself was large and imposing, with gargoyles staring down at the lawn with beaks open wide in an endless yawn.

She felt her fur bristle and stand on end.

“Dear…” she said to Kristjyn, “...I’m not sure this is a great idea”

Kristjyn smiled and pushed his prop glasses back up his nose. B’rail’s heart fluttered at the small gesture. While she loved her boyfriend very dearly, she couldn’t deny how he looked with glasses.

“What do you mean?” he said. “It’s All Saint’s Wake. The lord of the house probably just wants to make a mood.”

B’rail shook her head and crossed her arms.

“I don’t know…no one else in the neighborhood is getting into the spirit.”

Kristjyn shrugged. “I mean…the lord’s rich right? So maybe they just have play around gil.”

B’rail frowned. Kristjyn grabbed her hips and pulled her closer. Then he kissed her forehead.

“Look, we made it all the way here right? Let’s go in and see what the vibe is like. If you wanna leave, we’ll leave. Ok?”

B’rail sighed and fell into her love’s embrace. She rested her paws on his chest and scratched his waistcoat. He folded his arms around her back and squeezed her. She breathed in his scent, a mix of powders and cologne, then nuzzled her fuzzy cheek into his chest.

“Alright,” she finally said, “I’ll try and keep an open mind…”

“But you’ll tell me if you want to leave.”

“I will.”

He kissed the top of her head and then released her. He motioned towards the imposing gates. She grabbed hold of the large ring handle. The metal shrieked and whined as she tugged the gate open with a pitch so shrill the woman winced and her feline ears folded down in upset.

She debated insisting that they leave right then and there. But she did just promise to keep an open mind. And it stood to reason that the sorry state of the gate may have been an intended effect, especially if they were as eccentric as the situation implied. And if worse came to worse, she and Kristjyn were both experienced adventurers. Or so she hoped.

She swallowed her doubts and stepped across the threshold. Kristjyn caught up and hooked his arm around hers. They moved across the yard at a leisurely pace. Every step took them closer to the massive double-wide front door. It was unremarkable in shape and design except for its peculiar shade of red that reminded B'rail of a tongue. 

Kristjyn reached up and rapped his knuckles on the large wooden door.

The sound reverberated from somewhere inside as if the noise was a stone falling down a well. That long echoing din conjured images of a hungry void in the mixed-breed’s mind. It made her reach down and grab for a weapon that wasn’t by her side.

Then the door opened with a creaky yawn. It was held by a tall thin elezen with sunken cheeks and eyes that looked as dark as pitch. He was dressed in a sharp doublet and vest that was colored in the bleakest shade of gray that B’rail had ever seen. She assumed that this had to be the house butler.

Kristjyn smiled at the tall man and offered the invitation.

“Greetings good sir,” he said to the butler. “We’re here for the lord’s party. May we…”

The butler snatched the invitation out of Kristjyn's hand and then motioned them inside.

“Come in…” he said in a droning tone. “The lord awaits on the third door to the right.”

Kristjyn stepped across the threshold. And despite her reservations, B’rail followed right behind him. She never looked back as the butler shut the door with a deep ominous thud.