“Wear a mask for too long, it will become your face,” and, “fake it till you make it,” mean the same thing for very different reasons -- Anon Guest
The Mask of Aspirations was soft like clay in her hands. It would fit easily over her face and do nothing. Not until she stated her terms. Agda shaped a pretty nose for it and watched as it returned to a bland and uninteresting normalcy.
She had to tell it what she wanted.
The reason why she had sought it out in the first place. The reason why she had gone to all this trouble to raid a tomb for it. Now she was almost home, she could tell it what she wanted. What everyone else wanted of her.
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