Paper Masks

“Are you a creature with a single body and many souls?” asks the caped fairy, whose wings fall downward from the window ledge; making them look like an antique cloak.

“No” answers Vero.

“I see.” The fairy replies with a sharp smile. “No matter, if you wish to be addressed as they and them, then addressed as such you will.” The fairy bows its neck, surprisingly long and thick for such a small creature. In a flash of rapid movement, the fairy finds itself no longer in the ledge, but inside Vero’s room.

The room still bares scars of the disastrous meeting of the two, which had occurred minutes prior. The effects of the startled attacks by Vero towards the fairy are still present in the broken bed pole and the scattered work equipment, now resting on the ground. They had caught it stealing art from the desk, finding the one responsible for de disappearances of several of their works, Vero swung their father’s old bat until giving in to the fairy’s pleads for a pause in violence.

Vero feels startled by the sudden presence of the cryptic, mythical creature, for they had not expected the culprit to be a being of the fabled Fae. It scatters through their art piles, and later rests on the wooden top of the desk, now giving a calm sensation after the altercation dissipated into a personal introduction.

“I was told.” Says the fairy, still slightly out of breath. “There was a very talented artist in this part of town. One that could most likely have enough talent to help me with a rather urgent matter. Now that I see its true, and I cannot hold my identity a secret anymore, I must ask for your help directly.” The fairy pushes a pair of large glasses up on its long nose. It stares at Vero’s art, dazzled by it. “Such beautiful faces in such complex palettes.” It smiles. “This is perfect.”

“Perfect for what?” asks Vero. “What is the help you need?” The fairy vows silently as a response.

“You will know soon enough. But for now, I’ll need this borrowed.” It points to the large piece of paper it was originally going to steal; slightly damaged and resting on the floor. It holds a variety of red, abstract faces, which were made as practice for symmetry and perspective. Vero accepts timidly. “Splendid! If all goes to plan, I will be returning tomorrow.” It bows its long neck once more. “I bid you a good evening, and pardon the scare, we fairies don’t normally ask humans for favors” it smiles and, as a caped crusader in the night, throws itself from the window ledge, spreading its long cape, turning it into crow-like wings and flying off into the neighboring forest.

Vero slept uncomfortably, but the next night has fallen, and they wait for the fairy hopelessly. They draw circles in a blank paper, and begins to fill them with complex and dazzling patterns as a mean to feel calm and not think of the probable insanity that comes from seeing a pixie-like creature. They are startled when they hear a small voice from behind them.

“Such mastery!” The caped fairy says. “I love this one.” It points towards one of the circles showing vertical, interlocking waves. “Sorry if I scared you.”

“It’s alright.”

“Great. I have spoken to the creatures who wish your help, and I am happy to let you know they are delighted and hopeful that you will bring your aid.”

“My aid in what?” Vero asks. The fairy points to the notebooks, papers, pencils, and inks.

“In drawing, of course!” the fairy walks on the wooden desk, stretching over the pencils and jumping over the erasers. “Tomorrow when the sun rises I will be here, and you shall come with me to the forest to meet my friends.”

“Who?” asks Vero. “Who are your friends?” Their patience begins to wear thin. The fairy notices.

“If I tell you who they are…” it answers. “Then you won’t meet them tomorrow, will you?” it smiles and heads for the window ledge. Before its wings spread, it turns and with a smile conveys a decisive comment. “You might not believe it, but the balance of nature itself might hang in your skillset, Vero. I will not tell you now, but trust me when I say that you might just save us all.” With a broad grin, it pauses. “And bring your drawing tools!” the fairy spreads its wings and disappears.

The sun develops over the mountaintops and gleams at the forest below. Vero waits for the strange companion to appear and lead them to where they will save the world. They had not been too startled by the presence of a magical creature such as that, the fae have been part of their childhood, thanks to their grandmother's stories. Nevertheless, the events transcribing from their encounter have left them startled and in a constant state of wonderment. What seems like a dot within the splendor of the sun slowly morphs into the winged fae upon Vero’s eyes. Not a word is spoken before it leads Vero towards the forest, and towards the mysteries of its vegetation.

The caped fairy and Vero walk inwards to the vast landscape with a heavy silence between them. Vero’s mind is filled with questions.

“Go ahead.” Says the fairy, flying low and slowly.

“Pardon?”

“Go ahead, ask away. You have many questions I believe, and I have answers.” It smiles.

“Well…” they say. “Where are we going?”

“To meet my friends!” says the fairy. Vero frowns from the lack of information.

“Where are your friends?”

“Deeper in the forest, next to the green-lime trees and the pink river. Have you seen them? They’re beautiful.”

“There’s no such thing as a pink river.”

“Oh, but a fairy is so common is it not?” Silence falls upon the sarcasm. The fairy smiles and continues flying.

"What's your name?" The fairy chuckles at the question.

"That, my young artist, you will have to earn." It answers with a dashing grin, bringing silence once more.

“Why me?” they ask, breaking the stillness.

“I will have the honor of answering that question once you meet my friends.” The path begins to clear, and the dirt bellow them seems to become richer in color. The pure vegetation of mythical origins present itself along the branches of old trees, and through the moss of ancient rocks. Indeed, there is a magical aspect of where they are going, Vero knows this now; in front of them the lights from the pink river begin to show.

Indeed, the pink river splendors heavily and gives immediate peace. Vero feels a rush of euphoria and amity by witnessing the collection of color on the forest in front of them. The green light emanating from lime trees seemed to drown within its own glorious essence and the rosy glow of the river creates an eternal flow of what Vero can only perceive as chaotic passion. The fairy sits on a wet stone at the edge of the stream and claps its hands twice.

“Here come my friends.” Out of thin air, the trees, and the grass emerge small, thin, white, humanoid creatures. “The nymphs of this beautiful forest.” Says the fairy, his hands spread while his black cowl rest upon his shoulders. Vero feels slightly overwhelmed but maintains concord. “Now, to answer your question.” It points towards them. “See well, what do you notice on my friends?”

Vero looks throughout their bodies and notices the creatures bare no face, they hold a slight depressed persona and unmotivated auras. They move without energy and sadness. They notice Vero, and quickly show timid expressions and embarrassed actions. The fairy continues.

“They are like you, in a way. Not male or female, only beings created to protect this beautiful woodland. But just because they are of no sex, does not mean they do not wish for an identity, a name, a face. Lack of identity can be a dangerous thing. Without it, there is no purpose, and these creatures without purpose could mean the end of this beautiful forest you step on.” The fairy flies towards one of the trees, and pulls a couple of pieces of paper with thin vines interlocked on the sides. He steps towards one of the creatures and places the paper on its face, and wraps the vine behind its head, making a soft knot.

The paper on the nymph’s face is one of the drawn expressions the fairy had taken from Vero’s room two nights prior. It had been cut into a circle, and made to look like a face for the small nymph. The minute creature makes gestures of excitement, and stretches its hands presenting itself anew, a spirit with an identity.

“My friend likes having a face very much, and decided to be named Basil. Like the herb!” He smiles. Behind him, four more nymphs appear with the other drawn faces from the original piece. “This is Maru, Lotus, Sleaze, and Tris, forest nymphs, now with faces and names.” The fairy beams with pride. “Do you understand now?” and Vero, nodding gently, understood what they had to do.

They work endlessly for nights on end. They receive visits from the caped fairy, whose name is Marko, they later find out; a male fairy. Marko comes during the night to look for the beautiful faces and portraits Vero makes. Some are intricate human faces, others are animals, and others are simple dots and lines aligned in an intricate and beautiful manner. Vero makes them happily, and fills tiny boxes with them for Marko to take and share them with the nymphs.

Two months of endless creative work pass, and Vero begins to head for the small nymph’s gathering to see their paper masks placed on the creature’s blank faces, listen to their new names, and hear their stories. On some cases, the nymphs place two stones for Vero to work beside them. The nymphs fall in line, and tell them their names and just how they envision their face to be.

A year more passes, and Vero arrives one morning to find the lime trees without their peaceful, green light and Pink River completely empty, no nymph in sight. They look, and search endlessly, but finds no one. In the night, they hear a light tap on their window, Marko stands with his cape wings low and a large smile.

“Thank you.” He says. “All the nymphs of the forest have found a voice, a face, a name, and a purpose thanks to you.”

“Where have they gone?” they ask.

“They have become one with the forest.” Marko says. “And now the forest will grow and prosper for millennia. All. Thanks. To. You.” Marko bows his long neck. “Until we meet again Vero.” He jumps high, and spreads his wings, disappearing within the dark trees of the night, all before Vero can say goodbye.

Life goes on, Vero becomes a well-known artist by creating beautiful landscapes, some with the green light from the lime-trees, and some with pink rivers and small nymphs dancing through the mix of vibrant colors. The forest grows and grows, forever untouched by humanity and time. Some say that if you explore the forestry, feel the trees, and smell the air, you can find many hidden things from the world of the fae. Most times, explorers say, you can see traces of the paper masks carved on the trees and rocks, reflected on the water, and even, if you concentrate enough, seen in the clouds.