The Mask Maker

Grim Future

Morai stood in the doorway of the Anistar City gym. It was an intricately designed building that mostly consisted of glass, which allowed one to view the cosmos above. Several trainers stood between her and the person she had come to see, but she handled them all with relative ease. They were psychics, like she was, but none of them could control minds. She battled some and fought others, but they all eventually fell.

Morai went to continue on the maze of glassy winding paths, but one last opponent stood in her way. It was a young girl.

"I won't let you through, you monster! If you want to see Olympia, you'll have to go through me!"

Morai smiled and lifted her mask, licking the blood of a trainer she had attacked a little to harshly along the way off of her fingers. The girl wavered when she stepped forward, but stood her ground. Morai could sense her high level of fear.

"I like you," she said, patting her on the head. "You're brave and unyielding in your values even though you're afraid. Hold onto that attribute."

Morai passed by the girl, who tugged at her vest.

"I simply wish to speak to your leader," Morai said. "I think she can help me. Besides, don't you think Olympia can handle herself?"

The girl didn't budge. Morai sighed with amusement, then took control of her mind just long enough to get her to let go and continue walking. Morai walked casually through the mystical room until she reached Olympia. She still had injuries from her time with Team Plasma, and those were simply add-ons to the amount of abuse she put her body through on a regular basis.

"Olympia," she said with a nod.

"The one who makes masks. Sheds the blood of my students. I know why you've come," Olympia replied. It was then that Morai remembered that the Anistar City Gym Leader only spoke in haikus. Olympia was a slender, dark-skinned woman with violet hair and eyes. Large rings seemed to hover around her wrists, and looking at the inside of her cloak was like looking up at the galaxy itself.

"Then let us not waste time," she replied. "Tell me about my past."

"Are you afraid of what the future holds, Morai? Why only your past?"

"I don't remember my past, but it has already happened. It is set in stone. I'd like to believe I can control the future."

"Ignorance is bliss. You've said it yourself, Morai. Remember your words."

Morai tilted her head in confusion.

"You know believing is not the same as knowing. The truth does not care."

Morai sighed. "Yes, I know. The past is frightening too, but sometimes not remembering is frustrating. People around me have knowledge about my past self that I don't have. If I do, it's foggy."

"Fog conceals the pain," Olympia replied. "You don't want to remember. You want to move on."

"Then why am I here?" Morai argued.

"Because you worry. Secretly, for the future. Because you are lost."

Morai didn't speak for a while, then shook her head as she realized that Olympia was correct.

"It's interesting how much information can be conveyed within a few syllables," Morai said. "Alright, fine. What does my future hold?"

"Take my hand and see. Put your hand inside my ring. I will tell the truth."

Morai stepped up to Olympia, and paused before giving her her hand. Olympia smiled reassuringly at her, looking her in the eyes. Finally, Morai put her wrapped hand—bloody and bruised—in hers.