Monthly Story Prompts

What does your character think about this?

They took it from someone else

Kivo rolled his eyes dramatically. All his customers could talk about was this blasted Harvest Masquerade that the city was busy preparing for. It has happened every year since he arrived to Ivras but they always acted like it was the first one they'd ever attended. Just before the frost started to bite, after all the food had been gathered and stored, Faline threw a humongous party to celebrate with the people about a successful harvest and to wish good wills throughout the winter. The costumes were derived from the belief that spirits who once starved would become jealous and attempt to steal or hurt those more fortunate than them so everyone dressed up to hide their identity for protection. Kivo thought it was a right load of old codswallop but he couldn't deny the benefits behind the masks. One, he was classified by the state as a 'wild mage', hugely feared by everyone, even The Order themselves. Two, his intentions were never innocent and it was difficult to keep things under wraps if everyone could put a face to the name behind all the delicious evil. Dressing up allowed him to walk freely without drawing attention to himself in the crowd. Of course, Kivo was far too busy to be designing or creating these elaborate costumes. Some people spend months preparing for this festival, investing every bit of time and energy they had to ensure the details were perfect. He laughed at the thought - what a waste. He had other means of getting what he needed.

He stood silently in the corner of the room, watching two brawling wildebeest scraping in his arena. Blood dripped from their horns where they had impaled one another, each panting heavily as they strained to stay alive. The screams and shouts of the audience willed them on, people clutching little bits of paper and shaking it at them viciously. Almost everyone had placed a bid and their money was at stake. Again and again, they struck one another. The smaller of the two was light on his feet, managing to avoid the larger brute's heavy charges. One such dodge left the other stumbling and he headbutted the padded corner of the ring. Before he had a chance to right himself, the smaller one lunged forward and sunk his teeth in with an almighty chomp, ripping away a chunk of flesh from his side. He screamed in pain, swinging around to try and stab his attacker. Alas, he was too slow yet again and tripped himself over which led to him thudding to the floor. The springy step of the smaller one led to his defeat and he yielded the fight, banging the floor with his leg. It was over. He had lost but, on the bright side, he still had his life. That couldn't be said for many who entered Kivo's ring. The audience howled, most booing at the result. They had wagered on the wrong man. Those who had been successful on the underdog rushed to Kivo to collect their winnings, chattering excitedly about how they were going to spend it. One such fellow was a short, stumpy sheep who seemed to be alone. He was last to collect from Kivo and as the others wandered off to the bar to commiserate/celebrate, he stayed a little behind the pack.

"Oh sir! You don't know what this means to me. Truly, you don't. I've been struggling for weeks to try and find the money for my last important piece. With this, I can now complete my costume for the masquerade."

Kivo hummed a yes, nodding his head, but he was rather disinterested in the conversation topic. The enthusiastic nature was insufferable. Regardless, he carried on.

"Honestly, when I first heard of the easy money to be had, I was cautious. Of course I was. Who would believe in such a deal! It was too good to be true, surely. But I'm so glad I came. Oh yes, so happy I came now. This really is easy money to be had. You're saving my bacon, sir, you really are. I thank you."

The stocky little sheep with his heavyset head, floppy ears and the coat that clearly needed a trim was speaking at the speed of light. It was hard to keep up.

"Great...glad I could help," Kivo said, rolling his eyes. "Now, if you don't mind. I have things to do."

"Oh yes. Of course sir. Sorry sir. Apologies. I'll be on my way."

He scurried off, glancing behind him as he walked, a little disheartened at the dismissive attitude. He joined the others at the bar, stretching on his tippy-toes to try and attract one of the bartenders for a drink. Kivo shrugged it to the back of his mind, taking the money into the office. Meanwhile, the two brawlers tended to each other's wounds with the little first aid equipment on hand. It wasn't any concern to Kivo what happened to them so he had no obligations to have a healer on hand. It was at their own risk they entered their name into the fight and it was their own responsibility to deal with the aftermath.

Mind-numbingly, Kivo counted the profits. He lost count again and again, huffing as he started once more to count the coins. He couldn't get the conversation with the stranger outside out of his mind. It played over and over, until it clicked. He was obviously one of those who dedicated his whole life to the celebrations of Ivras and the Harvest Masquerade was no different. What he had won was a good amount and to put ALL of it towards one final piece really got under his skin. This costume must be elaborate and grand. Something that, perhaps, could be modified to suit him? It was an interesting theory which he saved for later. For now, he counted his cash and re-joined the party outside.

He spent the night doing what he does best, perusing the clients who were drinking and gambling with delight. As they got drunker, their wallets got lighter. As the night went on, those who had run out of luck began to leave with their tails tucked between their legs with embarrassment. Only the high-rollers were left and the little sheep who seemed a little dozy at the bar. Kivo nudged him gently, startling the poor man awake.

"I wasn't sleeping, I promise, I was just...urr...resting my eyes! Its been a long day."

"Perhaps you should finish your drink and head home, sir."

"Yes yes. Sound idea, sir. Yes..." he trailed off his sentence, looking at his drink. "On second thoughts, best just leave now, I think. That won't help my case on the walk home."

"All the best."

He shuffled off his chair, holding the bar for support, before tottering off out the door. Kivo eyed up the barmaid who was quietly polishing glasses.

"I won't be back before closing. You know what to do, right Fran?"

"You got it, boss."

She smiled at him as he headed out into the brisk autumn night. It was cold but their was no wind nor rain; pleasant for the time of year. He had no coat with him so took care not to be seen as he followed the plump ball of wool. He wobbled down the street, making a left and then a right. He came to a door, knocking politely. Kivo hung back, peaking round the corner. Light poured out of the open doorway and he could see the silhouette of a tall figure stood in the doorway. The sheep had a short conversation with them in hushed tones before he handed over the pouch of coins that Kivo had given him earlier that night. The unknown shadow took it and exchanged a small object wrapped loosely in a rag. They said their goodbyes and the door closed. He then continued with his journey. Kivo followed, intrigued to what he had witnessed. Who was that? What had he bought? Was this the missing piece for his costume? Only one could answer his questions.

Finally, they came to the outskirts of the city. Here, the houses were small and shabby. They were barely standing - one good gust of wind could blow them over. Only the poorest and most desperate lived here, dependant on the little wage they earnt from their tiny, insufficient job in the big city. No wonder the poor guy had been so excited to have (what he would consider) a small fortune placed in his hands. But it begged the question of why he would spend so much money on one item. Kivo slid into a dark patch, hidden behind an abandoned wagon with only one wheel as he watched which house he would choose. The sheep chose the middle house, pushing the door with a hefty grunt. It dragged against the wooden floor, groaning as it opened. He wiped his hooves and stepped inside, shoving the door closed behind him. A few moments passed then the front window lit up with the soft glow of candlelight. The black stallion tucked his wings close to his body and snuck closer, taking care with where he placed his feet to avoid detection. He pressed himself up against the door, an ear up against the wood. Muffled sounds of shuffling papers and the scrape of chair legs could be heard. With confidence, Kivo decided a rapid, straight-in-straight-out response would be best and he barged the front door open with his weight. Much larger than the occupant, it took little strength for Kivo to move the object out of his way. Once again, he startled the man. He jumped up out the chair, scared of the intrusion.

"Sir! What do you think you are doing?"

His voice was loud and shouty with a hint of fear behind each word. This tiny animal was no match for the beast that had burst into his home. Only flight would be possible in this situation. He stood, wide-eyed, like a deer in headlights, too terrified to move an inch. The stallion took this opportunity to close to gap, striding towards him with purpose.

"Shh...listennn..." Kivo whispered, blowing gently into his face. "You will do as I say and remember none of this night."

Entranced, he nodded. Kivo's eyes glowed red, his senses closing down as he focused into his magic.

"You will finish your costume for me and I will take it. I was never here, though. You will tell anyone who asks you were robbed while you were sleeping. You heard nothing. You saw no-one."

With the end of the orders given, the sheep got to work on finishing his design. He hemmed it, adding the finishing touches before reaching for the object he had been presented at the stranger's house. He unwrapped it carefully, setting it down on the table. Tiny little gems lay within the cloth, glinting in the light. They were dazzlingly beautiful. He picked each one up with tweezers, sticking them gently to the mask that he'd created. It was arduous, time-consuming work but the end result was breath-taking. The winged horse smiled wickedly. This would do just fine.

Once it was completed, the woollen ram stepped aside, doing nothing to stop his hard work from being stolen under his nose. Kivo took it and left swiftly, leaving the door wide open.

He rushed home, taking every darkened path. After committing a crime, one tends to not want to be caught with an item in his possession that shouldn't be. He raced up the stairs, unlocking his door with ease. He slipped inside, locking the door quickly behind him. He drew his curtains before lighting a candle in the bedroom to inspect the clothes up close. The main cloak was layers and layers of thin fabric with a hood, all of varying lengths. Each one was a different colour but they matched the autumnal vibes by sticking with shades of red, orange, yellow and brown. The top layer had leaves embroidered all over it. The clasp was old and worn - the gold paint had rubbed off in patches, exposing the raw metal beneath. He had clearly taken this off another garment to sow onto this one, attempting to match it as best as he could. It was primitive and very clearly homemade. It disappointed Kivo a little. He was expecting something a little more extravagant. He couldn't complain though. It was free, after all. The mask, however, was a different story. It was wooden - the bark had been shredded off and the surface had been sanded smooth. It was then stained a dark walnut colour with a large red oak leaf printed onto the side. Around the edge of this painting, the sheep had glued those gems around the outline, drawing the attention towards it. The shimmering orange stones had all been polished to perfection. That was the masterpiece of the outfit. Not bad for someone who lives in a hovel.

He tried them on, surprised that it even pinned close around his wide chest. It was snug to say the least, but Kivo knew it would be. It was meant to fit someone a third of his size after all. No matter, he knew someone who could help refit the materials in no time at all. Taking it from someone else saved him half the time it would've taken to create his own.