Scene: the forests surrounding Hydlaa. Dusk.
The mysterious figure approached two. Two elves, two of what could be assumed Xiosia's ilk.
"...aye. I saw some sort of fire, so I moved this way," the blue-skinned one spoke. She and her friend, another female of land-based hue, congregated here, right where new beginnings would unfold.
"Are you both in need of aid?" He did not discriminate. Startling the two of them, the Masked God's staff gleamed as he stood before them. Darkness surrounded him, the very shadows of the forest melding to his being, it seemed; his appearance unsettling, they both looked on with contemplation, borderline fear.
"Excuse me, sir?" the Dermorian inquired.
Spreading his arms and holding his staff to the side at arms-length, the figure addressed them as he would any that could be brought to his fold. "I am... the Masked God," he said with a sort of delight, his voice unlike that of a normal person. "I do so wish to help you."
While her friend looked on with skepticism, the blue-hued elf shook her head in disbelief, "N-no need. Thank you."
Her fear was evident. She looked around as if seeking a means of escape, but the forest would not quarter her. The seed would be planted.
Raising his staff to the skies, the Masked God called forth clouds of storm, which churned above the trees, blocking the light of the already-darkening Azure Sun. "Do you worship me, child?" he asked very plainly, his eyes fixated on the two of them, but more importantly, the one known as Chessire.
"Sure... pleased to meet you sir, er... Masked God."
Displeased, but already knowing that this would be the result, the figure worked the skies further by his design. "What an obvious lie," he stated, churning his staff through the air. "Perhaps you know me by a different name, but one that the likes of you is not worthy to call me." Then pointing the staff directly at her as they recognized what was going on above - it struck. Lightning cracked through the trees, igniting foliage; and with his target being thrown to the ground and the other jumping back in astonishment, they could only gasp at the charred earth before them, mere inches away. Chessire's eyes turned toward him once more, and he warned her plainly, "You should know what happens to those who displease me."
"W-what in the world," the blue-hued elf spoke, her friend, Tial, helping her to her feet, "this doesn't make sense! I have never had anything to do with Laanx! Why would he reveal himself to me?!"
"For that VERY reason, child," the Masked God lashed out. "I will not have this world stripped from me so, my very capital overshadowed by the Tree, and the Glyph. Those working to turn others against me will not earn any favor, and will only meet their doom. The Masked God is a jealous god, and for bringing life to this world, I demand tribute." He tapped his staff into the ground, lava coagulating around the small span surrounding. "Worse will come if you do not do my bidding. Tell your friends and those you cherish that the Masked God once more walks among you. The Masked God is here, to take back what is His." His voice took a more subtle tone, but he addressed them still, "Know my power, my children, and restore this world to what it was meant to be."
Both of them frowning, Chessire spoke. "We... we will do as you say."
"You do good, then," the figure answered pleasedly. "I will know if you do not live up to your oath. The world must know, starting with my very Hydlaa. Tell them, and do not rest until they are all made aware. When this has come to pass, I will come again to invite them to Me."
Her voice shaking, Chessire quivered in response, "Aye, of course sir Masked God, my lord."
Nodding, the figure turned away from them. "I will be watching you." And the shadows took him from them.
