The bells sounded steady.
Chibi counted them without meaning to.
Outside, the square of Altdorf had changed again. No shouting. No laughter. No masks. Only lines of people moving in order beneath lantern light.
“They’re lining up,” Chibi said from the window.
“Yes,” Mara replied.
“For what?”
“To make it stop.”
Below, a man removed his shirt despite the cold and knelt upon the cobblestones. A cord rose and fell across his back.
Chibi flinched.
“They’re hurting him.”
“He asked for it.”
“Why?”
“So it doesn’t hurt somewhere else.”
The cord fell again. The man bowed lower, breathing through it.
“They look calmer,” Chibi said.
“Yes.”
“Like after a storm.”
“Yes.”
Near the fountain, a brazier burned the last of the carnival masks. Paper curled inward. Paint blistered. Ash drifted upward.
“They burned them,” Chibi said.
“Yes.”
“Did it work?”
Mara folded a strip of plain cloth into careful squares on the table.
“It worked for today.”
Chibi climbed down from the bench and sat opposite her.
“Are we supposed to do it too?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because we didn’t ask for it.”
He dipped his fingers into a wooden bowl of water and washed his hands slowly, watching droplets fall back into the grain of the table.
“Like that?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Does it help?”
“For a while.”
Outside, the man who had once struck someone down now knelt willingly. The cord fell. He rose composed, almost serene.
“He looks cleaner,” Chibi said.
“Yes.”
“That’s good.”
“Maybe.”
The bells rang again.
Steady.
Certain.
“They’re going to fast,” Chibi said.
“Yes.”
“And pray.”
“Yes.”
“And bleed.”
“Yes.”
“So it won’t happen again.”
Mara looked toward the square where ash settled over stone.
“That’s what they think.”
Chibi pressed his forehead lightly to the cool glass.
“So it wasn’t the masks.”
“No.”
“They chose.”
“Yes.”
“Both times.”
“Yes.”
The square emptied in ordered silence.
No blood.
No shouting.
No masks.
“They look clean,” Chibi said.
“Yes.”
“Are they?”
Mara watched the last torch disappear into the narrow streets.
“They believe they are,” she said.
Outside, Altdorf stood calm beneath lantern light.
Disciplined.
Organized.
Certain.
And somewhere beneath that certainty,
something waited patiently.
MASKS & MASQUERADE
🜍 Month 2 · The Old World · WFRPG
🜍 Week 4 — Penance replaces excess
🜍 The fire remains
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