"I'm really not buying into this crap, Gery."
The pair of olive-skinned boys had stood outside the newly-opened shop for what felt like an eternity, apprehensive of entering. Gilliam, being the elder of two, couldn't have been more annoyed at the almost rabid excitement of his younger brother, Gery. Clad in what more or less amounted to rags, the two were far from well-kempt, the older boy's short black messy hair nowhere near as wild as the brown mop of hair his younger sibling sported.
It was truly an interesting display, with its singular tagline of "granting happiness" to those who desired it. And it clearly worked in roping Gery in, granted he couldn't deny his own slight interest at the prospect. After all, to a pair of orphans like them who were more or less peasants, it was practically a dream-like concept, getting a chance at a new life. Though, he'd be lying if he didn't say he was dangerously skeptical. After all, the shop was a recent establishment by some mysterious mask maker from out of town, and its name--Galuthel's Mask Shop--wasn't exactly a beacon of trustworthiness itself, moreso if it was really that on the nose.
Sure, magic existed and all--as while rare, there would often be small public sparring matches between mages in town who often had no other way to settle some dispute. It just seemed a bit too good to be true, was all. What magic mask could even grant such a thing? And who'd even be stupid enough to suggest it, or even try it?
Which was why, as the two brothers stepped inside, the closing door and fading ring of the bell signalling their entry drew their eyes to the almost homely candle-lit interior of the shop--a curious far cry from the somewhat bustling streets of Renwick's market. Their mutual gazes near-instantly drifted to the large wall in the far back of the shop, where row after row of masks lay hung, the older boy finding himself completely dumbfounded with his expression contrasting the clear amazement plastered across his sibling's face.
"I humbly welcome you to my mask shop, dear customer."
Their doubts melted away almost immediately as their eyes landed upon the shopkeeper resting in front the wall of masks and behind a large wooden desk--a bipedal azure-scaled dragon clad in a fancy attire of a black and white greeting them with the most pleasant voice they'd heard in a long time--somewhat accented, but pleasant all the same, he greeted them with a bow.
"Although... I suppose customers would be more fitting, no?" Galuthel smiled at the stunned silence from the pair, the look of amazement in the younger boy's eyes clashing with the sheer disbelief in the older boy's--though the piercing green coloration was shared between them. "I humbly apologize for my rudeness. I am the mask maker, Galuthel, at your service."
His warm smile was almost too much to bear, as the older brother slowly regained his words upon shaking off his stupor.
"U-Um, hi," Gilliam barely managed to stutter out as he and Gery walked to the front of the desk, already feeling his brow grow wet with sweat as he veered his gaze off to the side to avoid eye contact, "me and my little brother heard you grant… happiness? Or something like that?"
A pleasant chuckle hesitantly drew his attention back to the dragon mask vendor as he raised himself up, his vest-like outfit exposing his pair of scaled arms and large clawed hands. "I… grant a sense of euphoria, yes. A feeling of great joy and well-being to those who wear my masks."
"Does it... work for everyone?" Gilliam's voice was little louder than a whisper, but it was loud enough for Galuthel to hear--the dragon's smile widening as he gave a gentle nod.
And there it was… the air of disbelief was broken, as the two brothers shared a look of pure shock at each other.
"How much?" Gery suddenly perked up, hastening his sibling to nod as they returned to glance at the vendor.
"How much for what?" The dragon asked, feigning ignorance.
"A mask!"
Galuthel's maw widened with an amused grin, an ominous glint within his scarlet eyes. "Pay no heed to such petty precognitions, child--after all, the gateway to your happiness has no right to be barricaded by a dragon's trivial need for gold."
"W-Wait," Gilliam nearly stepped back, his jaw agape in shock, "there's no... cost? You're letting us choose for free?"
"Of course," the scaled mask maker nodded, "think of it as a gift from me to you, my newest customers--and with any luck, your future selves. Now," he stepped aside, his leathery wings lowering as he beckoned with a hand to the wall of masks behind him, "choose a mask. Let your heart's desires guide your hand."
"You go first, Gilli!" Gery hopped, excitedly tugging at the sleeve of his older brother's worn tunic.
"Yeah, yeah," he flicked his wrist away, not looking at his brother as he stepped past him and the desk to focus his gaze upon the nearly endless wall of masks.
Gilliam's green eyes darted about, from the mouse-like mask whose expression appeared to be that of a playful, almost mischievous smirk, to the fierce and intense gaze of a gorilla mask, to the almost somber expression plastered across that of a mask he assumed to be a deer. His choices were practically unlimited, yet even he didn't know what he wanted.
Feeling as though he truly only had one way to decide, with a breath the older boy allowed his eyes to fall shut--his hand shaking as he reached out to grasp a mask hanging upon the wall. The wooden exterior was cold against his fingertips as he tightened his grip across its surface, his palm growing slick with sweat as he lightly tugged to wretch his choice free from the wall.
Both hands clasping it firmly as he lowered the mask to his stomach, Gilliam's eyes opened to see that the mask he had chosen was that of a...