Chapter 1083: Contact
“An old thing,” Nestor mused as his metal hands lightly brushed against the unblemished silver mask. “A very archaic style.”
“Old enough that you know where it came from?” Leon asked.
“No,” Nestor disappointingly replied.
A sigh escaped Leon’s lips. The gold robes were of fine make but devoid of any identifying marks. The silver mask was more distinctive, with light runic framing every line. The mask had been given the shape of a stern older man, with a well-trimmed beard and almost brutally impassive face. There were no eyeholes, which Leon found interesting.
What captured his attention more was the fact that most of the runes on the face, so lightly engraved that they could only be seen with enough light and from the right angle, were decorative rather than magical. The mask still possessed a powerful magical presence, but most of the magic radiating from it came from runes on its inner surface rather than the runes on its face.
Unfortunately, Leon couldn’t quite read those runes. They were similar enough to the writing system he was familiar with that his brain tried, but ultimately, not a single word was legible.
“‘Till he returns, our Lord’,” Nestor recited as he traced one line of runes just below the right eye. “‘To bring back our glory,” the dead man added, tracing the runes below the left eye. “Back in my day,” he explained, “this wasn’t an uncommon phrase spoken among those who followed the Great Lord Khosrow’s teachings. Pathetic weaklings praying for the dead to rise and deliver them from the ‘beast-bloods’ that ruled them. Instead of growing strong themselves and attempting to seize what they felt was deserved, they instead hoped someone else would do the work and graciously allow them to partake in the reward.”
“On the frescos, it looked like those who lived here were descended from people who were enslaved by people wearing these same kinds of silver masks,” Leon remarked. “Maybe it was because of their blood that they were enslaved?”
“Either way, anyone who professes allegiance to the Great Lord, or who prays for his return, is no friend of ours, Leon,” Nestor warned. “They believe in the purity of human blood. They believe us to be abominations. My father ensured that wherever this little heresy took root, it was ripped out and incinerated, but it always popped back up. They are no friends of ours. Do not treat them like they are.”