Roles and Guises

"Call them," Freeda pushed Patrick.

Mask placed, the boy glanced towards the actors, biting his lip nervously. "Are we really doing this? You haven't done any training yet, what makes you so sure that this performance would be successful?"

Evelina threw him a look that says how much of a rubbish opinion that was, but it went unnoticed. She knew that their anxiousness was unavoidable. They weren't ready despite pressing that they were. It's not like they have a choice to withdraw from there, anyway.

They were all tense.

But that doesn't mean Patrick should continue shoving his experiences to them, not trusting their built efforts and ideas.

"That's the thing, isn't it?" Freeda said, her voice confident. She raised her hands, the yellow pendant directed at the sky. She took a final peek towards the male witch, smiling. "I'm sure that this performance would be in no way successful."

Pardon?

Evelina gawked at her.

But Freeda's attention was already far from them. Her eyes were closed, her breath heavy as she prepared her chant. "Dear moon, gather our aim. Bestow thy light to us as eyes search and watch."

Lightning drew from the moon to the stage. An approaching storm wouldn't be one to describe it for the flashes looked different, like weightless knives directed at them. And Evelina was quick on her feet, her whole being alert, expecting pain and treachery. But it never came. Instead, she felt a soft touch, bringing forth gentleness she never knew existed from within her.

"We're ready," said Sybil softly.

The vampiress felt herself nodding, the spirit of her role drifting with the cool breeze of the night.

"Curtain!" Patrick's voice boomed in the area.

Suddenly, eyes were on them. At least, that's what Evelina was feeling. She could only sense and guess because it was as if the light blinded her, yet the only people she could see were those with her on the stage.

Nods were shared and she felt how her heart moved to her head. Or was it still staying in her chest? She didn't know, for everything was tingling.

Yet it didn't matter.

The story was about to unfold.

'Was it morning or afternoon? The tree stood high and mighty beside a bench that no one sits on, the wind attracting its leaves. A bird flew by and asked the tree, "My love, let me rest in your comfort." The tree did not speak, but it welcomed the bird with its branch and warmth. The bird built a nest, attracted a mate, and soon laid its eggs; whilst the tree remained as its welcoming friend. The time came when the bird must fly along with its kind, leaving the tree dejected. It was once again alone with the bench that no one sits on. The bench cackled at the tree's loneliness, its jealousy for a companion evident. But the tree did not care for it was waiting for the bird, desiring to be needed again.

Time changed, the bird never came back. But the bench and the tree came to know a child who spent her life with them. Playing, drawing, laughing. And they were there until she grew into a lady and had a lover, the place being their sanctuary. But an unfortunate event came, and the man, who she thought would stay with her, left. His body never to be found, as his spirit stayed with the tree and the bench. The woman came back, old and in deep sorrow. Not knowing how to find her way, she started lashing the place. The tree received most of her anger for when storms and axes weren't enough, fire tried its best to consume it. The bird came back, eager to greet the tree, but it only found the woman crying, the bench giving her hesitant support. The tree it loved was slowly dying by the flames' grasp.The bird asked, "Ma'am, what did you do?" And the woman answered. "I thought I would heal from wounding another." But did she? Regret filled the woman, and she looked back to the fire, walking over to join the tree as it consumed them both.'

At least, that was how their performance was supposed to play out. But everything became a maze despite the confidence the energy brought to them.

Royce, being the bench who was present in all events, was the narrator. But he did not know how he'll do it without falling from his back, tired and bent. Evelina, as the tree, never showed emotion of her warmth and kindness. Only swaying, at times, when she could feel her knees trembling from uneasiness. She did try her best, but forcing a smile towards Freeda, the bird, surprised the witch that she started stammering her lines. Patrick was supposed to take the role of both the young girl and the lover, but he felt ashamed showing himself to the public with a ridiculous team that he just somehow disappeared from the story after his role as the child.

Until Evelina caught sight of him from the corner of her eyes, the boy lying down in contempt.

The star of the night went to the mortal girl, Sybil. Beyond the chaos of them all, she threw a rather impressive performance of the lady who felt nothing but misery, showing heartache through her tears, her voice grim and cruel.

By the middle of it all, Evelina saw no sense in continuing, and neither did the others. The light Freeda conjured started fading.

The vampiress blinked, once and then for a second time, and she saw what audience the actors were talking about. Despite starting without attention on them, only their coaches, the stage was now surrounded with humans taking interest. They were not a lot, but they were not empty either. Their faces showed confusion for what ruckus they showed them, the ending untold.

"Are we going to bow now?" Royce whispered, his lips stretched to a sheepish grin.

Patrick let out an annoyed groan as he tried to pull off his glittering mask. When he realized how useless his efforts were, he stepped off the stage, his fist clenched. Freeda shrugged, her eyes still bright under the moonlight, and went after the male witch, calling for him.

Evelina stared at them before letting her gaze travel to the child. Sybil was red upon seeing how there were people watching, her brother patting her shoulder.

The lady dithered on whether she wanted to say her praise aloud or be done with not speaking it. But she really was astonished by how Sybil acted. It was all a first for her, and standing with them, role assigned, was like watching them grow from how she had met them in the small room. Sure, they may still be annoying. But there were changes of how she saw them.

She wanted to know if there was also a change in herself.

Evelina was not used to flattering another, especially not someone who she already insulted before. But the girl deserved it, for she could only guess what she might be thinking. It was interesting how confidence could fleet once one was aware of the eyes directed towards them.

"You were quite good there," said the vampiress.

Sybil looked up at her, her blue grey eyes twinkling. Flustered, Evelina shifted her attention towards Freeda and the other witches walking towards them. The bright girl had a scowl on her face, the others were unreadable, rather complex. Meanwhile, Patrick was nowhere to be seen.

"Congratulations, you passed your first test!" Hellen said as proudly as she could, but Evelina sensed the frustration behind her voice. "Quite chaotically, I may say."

Giles turned to Royce, brows furrowed. "What was it with you and Patrick that you both decided to snooze on stage?"

"We did not snooze!"

"But you were both lying down. Nelle, what do you have to say to your assigned recruit?"

"Err…" Nelle looked around. "I say we review their performance back at the inn."

The rest of the witches agreed, aware of how a few people were still present. The night was awake, and maybe it was because of them, but the troupe wouldn't dare stay long in public unless it was a lengthy performance.

Evelina would also rather hear their opinions in a closed space. She had been embarrassed far too many times in a span of one day.

With the troupe leading them, Evelina found herself seeking for the company of a certain playful witch. But he was already occupied with talking to Leila and Nelle, laughing at whatever their conversation was about.

It wasn't just West and his group. The rest of them were caught on their own worlds, and Evelina was left with none.

What an odd feeling.

"Have you seen how Patrick just stormed off? What kind of dollophead leaves his team like he had the right to be disappointed in us!" the vampiress turned to her side. Freeda, the cheerful girl from the introduction was fuming. There was no one beside her except Evelina, but she was not quite sure how she should react.

"He told me that he was going to quit because of us! The nerve of his! If he had not noticed, we were not the only ones up there. He was one of us!"

Evelina grimaced, recalling how the young boy introduced himself. A former member of another troupe. And he had been there all his life, trained to be the perfect actor he is. Such a perfect actor, when he did not even show his potential while they were on stage.

"Oh, that must be him."

A masked man strolled before them, joining the troupe, while carrying the box that contained the other masks. His back was straight, steps loud, despite peering cautiously to his surroundings. As they walked past a lamp, the light glimmered against the mask- showing the blood red color of his guise.

"No," Evelina paused, her eyes once again a bright shade of amber. "That is not Patrick."