It wasn’t exactly a costume, but the effect was exactly what I was looking for. Slipping the mask on, I stepped in front of the mirror, giving myself a good once over.
I looked…mysterious. And nothing like Theodore Voss, which was the whole point. The man that stared back at me from the mirror was confident and handsome. He didn’t look like he was crumbling under the expectations of his family name or the workload of a busy schedule. He was just a normal college student at the academy, there for a good night.
Taking a deep breath, I let that reflection take over me and seep into my very being. Tonight I was him, plain and simple. I was going to drink, have a good time, and get into some sort of mischief if the opportunity presented itself.
I steeled myself with one final glance at my transformed reflection, then headed out the door toward the Halloween party. The quad was already pulsing with activity when I arrived, strings of enchanted lights hovering above the crowd like miniature stars. Witches, werewolves, and all manner of magical beings mingled beneath them, their costumes ranging from elaborate transformations to simple masks like mine.
The music was loud enough to feel in my chest, some magical band playing on a conjured stage that hadn’t been there this morning. Floating jack-o’-lanterns cast an eerie orange glow over everything, their faces changing expressionsevery few minutes. The air smelled of spiced cider, magic, and anticipation.
I hesitated at the edge of the crowd, suddenly uncertain. Everyone seemed to be in groups or pairs, laughing and talking like they belonged. I hadn’t planned this far ahead. What was I supposed to do now? Just walk up to strangers and start talking?
“Fuck it,” I muttered to myself, squaring my shoulders. I headed straight for the refreshment table where a large crystal bowl glowed with swirling purple liquid. The infamous enchanted punch I’d heard so much about but never tasted.
A witch in an elaborate raven costume was ladling some into cups, her feathered mask nodding as she chatted with the people in line. I waited my turn, trying to look like I did this sort of thing all the time.
“First time trying the punch?” she asked when I reached the front, her eyes twinkling behind her mask.
“That obvious, huh?”
She laughed. “You’re looking at it like it might bite you. Don’t worry. It just makes everything a little more...interestingfor a few hours.” She handed me a cup. “Beautiful mask, by the way. I’ve never seen ginkgo leaves used quite like that.”
“Thanks,” I said, surprised by the compliment. “I made it myself.”
“Impressive spellwork,” she replied before turning to the next person in line.
I took my punch and moved away from the table, sipping cautiously. It tasted like berries and honey with an undercurrent of something wild and ancient. Magic tingled on my tongue, spreading warmth through my chest as I swallowed. Almost immediately, the lights seemed brighter, the music more vibrant. Not unpleasantly overwhelming, just more present, morealive.
I drained the cup, enjoying the sensation. For once, I wasn’t overthinking everything or worrying about tomorrow. I was just...here. Living in the moment. And the second cup went down even easier than the first.
By my third cup of punch, I was actually enjoying myself. The music had drawn me closer to the center of the quad, and I found myself swaying to the rhythm, surrounded by other masked students doing the same. No one knew who I was. No one had expectations. It was exhilarating.
That’s when I spotted a guy by the punch bowl. He was a massive figure in what appeared to be a full-body mask of living plants and vines. He towered over most of the other students, his mask a stunning creation of leaves and small flowers that covered his entire head. It was the Green Man of legend, perfectly executed.
As I watched, he turned and seemed to be scanning the crowd, as if looking for someone. Then his gaze landed on me, and even from this distance, I could sense his interest. My heart skipped a beat as he began making his way toward me, moving with surprising grace for someone so large.
“I’ve been admiring your mask from across the quad,” he said when he reached me, his voice deep and slightly muffled behind the living creation. “The craftsmanship is exceptional.”
“I was just thinking the same about yours,” I replied, grateful for the liquid courage the punch had provided. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Thank you,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice. “I’m something of a specialist when it comes to plant magic.” He extended a hand. “I’m...Forest.”
I could tell it wasn’t his real name, but that was part of the game tonight, wasn’t it? Anonymity. Freedom from our everyday selves.
“Theo,” I replied, giving him a shortened version of my name that almost no one used. It felt right for my masked self. Similar but different, just like my appearance tonight.
His hand was warm when it enveloped mine, much larger than my own. “Would you like another drink, Theo?” he asked, gesturing to my empty cup.
“I’d love one.”
We walked together to the punch bowl, and I found myself grateful for his towering presence beside me. It made navigating the increasingly dense crowd much easier. As we waited in line, he asked me about my mask, and I explained the spellcraft behind it without going into too much detail about my desperate need for escape.
“It’s impressive magic for a one-night creation,” he said, handing me a fresh cup of punch. “Most temporary crafting spells don’t achieve that level of detail.”
“I got lucky,” I said modestly, though I couldn’t help feeling pleased by his praise. Was this what making friends was like?
We found a relatively quiet spot at the edge of the quad and talked as we sipped our drinks. Forest was easy to talk to, asking questions about my interests without prying too deeply into identifying details. I found myself relaxing in his company, laughing more freely than I had in months.
“Oh, there’s my friend,” he said suddenly, pointing toward another man that was heading our way.