III

Ekimu could, in fact, make new bread with his mask, but he could only make a few slices before he tired out—and even then, the newly-created bread looked rather… off. Ekimu had put the bread outside for the birds, and Makuta had jokingly wondered aloud whether the bread would poison them. Ekimu gave his brother a blank stare, refusing to dignify the comment with a verbal response.

The rest of the day followed uneventfully. As Makuta walked into his room that evening, a feeling of dissatisfaction sank in like a stone, though he had no idea why. Sighing in irritation, he sat down at his desk and swatted aside his various designs for masks, allowing them to clatter onto the floor. Taking a blank sheet of tin from the stack of sheets beside him, he made sure the piece was flat, then began to bend it.

Makuta didn't make masks as actively as Ekimu, nor did he truly enjoy doing so. Rather, he preferred sculpting designs for the masks. One design caught on particularly well—a streamlined yet tough-looking mask, forming a semicircle crest at the top. Nearly everyone on Okoto wore it, and he could only thank his brother for helping his dream become a reality.

As he was forming the overall shape, a knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. Frowning, he set the metal down and walked to the door. He spoke with an edge of annoyance as he opened the door. "What is it, Ekimu?"

"Hey." Ekimu waved awkwardly—something he would never do. "So, Makuta… tomorrow…"

Makuta folded his arms. "Go on."

"Right. Tomorrow might be especially long and busy, which could tire you out… so, just in case, I was wondering if you could, maybe…" Ekimu's voice trailed off.

"Are you stalling?" asked Makuta.

"No, I'm…" Ekimu shook his head slowly. "Sorry, I know this sounds odd. I just, I think you should go to bed at a reasonable time, you know—earlier than you usually do. Just for tonight, at least."

Curious, Makuta cocked his head to one side. "Let's make sure I understand. You want me to go to bed early tonight… and that's it?"

"Well… yes, actually," Ekimu said. "Or I could remind you when it's time, if you'd prefer."

Makuta closed his eyes for a moment, invisibly rolling them. "Ekimu, while I appreciate your concern, I am perfectly capable of knowing when to sleep at the proper time."

"Right. Of course. Well… goodnight."

As Ekimu left, Makuta walked back to his project, leaving the door ajar. Where was I? He made me lose track… Fortunately, he recognized the pattern of creases he had made. Form, right. Form is first.

In the form of two white slices, the moons gradually rose higher into the dark sky. In the city below, the villagers were walking into their huts to sleep. Merchants packed up their goods in a bundle and set them into their safe box, keeping it under lock and key.

In the forge, all was not quiet. In the living quarters, the crinkling and folding of metal foil could be heard. This sound would soon cease, though, for Makuta was finally satisfied. Holding his work at arm's length to see it from a distance, he nodded.

The mask he was looking over was relatively small for a mask. It had two spikes at the top, similar to the popular villager mask, but these spikes reached up and backward, creating an aerodynamic look. Two other spikes reached back from the sides of the mask, just below the top. In the middle, a large opening created the space for two eyes, allowing more range of vision. At the lower end of the mask, a tall, curved triangle made up the mouthplate.

Taking off his own mask, he held the tin to his face to see how one eyehole would work. He didn't get any energy from the mask, of course—masks have to be energized with elemental crystals first. Seeing the mask worked both aesthetically and practically, he put it down and leaned back in his chair. Once he gave this design to Ekimu, there would be the most beautiful mask for the Okotans, who would absolutely love it…

THUD.

On the floor, Makuta groaned. He hadn't realized he'd been leaning back so far. But upon looking up, the completely upright chair told him it was he who fell. With a sigh, Makuta relaxed on the floor, deciding to stay down. He was tired, anyway—tired and weak. A thought in the back of his mind told him to get back up, but he told himself not to bother, saying he would much rather keep lying on the hard, stone-like ground. Though the floor was cold, a warm, tingly feeling seeped into Makuta's face and made its way through his body.

It was there Makuta slept, caught in the warm embrace of slumber.