An Ominous Prophecy
It was several days later before Professor Chesterpot's
discovery was brought to the Neopian Museum in the Catacombs and to the attention
of the public. And this is where my story next takes you.
The grand opening of the Mystery Island exhibit.
The Arts District of Neopia Central was usually,
by some unwritten rule, the quietest place you can imagine. Artists go there
to show off their masterpieces. Poets and writers visit it for the scenic panorama
and inspiration. Others go to the tunnels to show their appreciation for these
works, and to enjoy the peace and serenity of the land.
Today was not one of these days.
The unwritten rule had been broken.
As far as the eye could see, crowds had swarmed
to the museum to witness this milestone discovery. Stalls had set up around
the museum, selling ice-cream and hot dogs and tacky T-shirts that read 'I saw
the unveiling of the Kumlaa Scrolls'. People and Pets from all over Neopia were
crammed into the town square, pushing and shoving to get a better view of the
action. And among the technicoloured kaleidoscope of a crowd, one figure would
have stood out, had he ventured into the light. A small, crouched man, spindly
and thin, reminiscent of a spider. An old, thin spider. Tortured by the memory
of events long past. He wove his way through the bustling bodies but always
stayed in the shadows, afraid of having attention drawn towards himself.
"Oh, great."
Another familiar face was also weaving herself
through the crowd and had just dropped her ice cream on the ground. Shining_Safyre
the Halloween Aisha had taken a break from work and was on a trip with her brothers
Jaziron and KeirothMohaki, her sister LyvessAngel and her owner Snicker.
"Oh come on, Saf, let me have a go of the video
camera," demanded the Kyrii
"It's not your turn, Jaziron," Snicker resolved,
"wait until after Lyvess has had a go." She wagged her blue wolf's tail and
brushed her hair behind her ears.
Jaziron growled bitterly and passed the video
camera to a little Blue Shoyru who was sitting neatly on Snicker's shoulders.
"This is great!" Saf beamed. "I love days off!
And what a perfect day for a holiday! The sun is shining, everyone's so happy... am I the only one that thinks this is too good to be true?"
Snicker laughed and continued to try and haggle
for a T-shirt.
A few hours later, the doors to the museum creaked
open hesitantly. The crowd held its breath as several figures stepped out into
the artificial light of the Catacombs - the town Mayor, a large green Chia;
a very old and grey Eyrie, one of the oldest Neopets around, who was usually
seen terrifying bold young Neopets with haunting ghost stories in the midst
of the Haunted Woods; Professor Chesterpot wearing a beaming smile and a shiny
new pair of specs; and several more of the congress present to unveil this new
find.
The Mayor waddled towards the stage and took
his place behind podium. He cleared his throat, hands positioned on either side
of the microphone. The crowd fell totally silent.
"Citizens of Neopia. Today is a proud day for
all of us. I doubt the events of the past few days has elapsed your attentions,
but to clarify, it is now my sworn duty to inform you of those exact events.
"On the 9th day of Swimming, Year 4, our dear friend Professor Chesterpot was
taken captive and held against his will. Luckily, thanks to the bold actions
of two members of the Special Forces, he was rescued and brought back to us.
But that was not all he brought back. Oh no. Professor Chesterpot has made an
incredible discovery that will shake the foundations of science, myth and times
gone by. I am proud to announce that we at the Neopian National Museum are here
to display... THE KUMLAA SCROLLS!!"
An incredible wave of applause swept across
the crowd of thousands and drowned out the nervous discussion on the stage.
The Mayor tapped the microphone to resume silence.
"Anyway, I have recently been made aware that
not all of you have been around long enough to hear of the age-old legend of
the Kumlaas. And it is for this reason I have invited a good friend and colleague
from the Haunted Woods, to tell you young 'uns the tale."
With that, the Chia stepped off the podium and
bowed low in reverence to the Eyrie, who marched proudly to the microphone and
placed one talon either side of the stand, glaring with mock malevolence at
the audience. He opened his beak slowly and spoke with a rasping, hissing tone
of voice that made your blood curdle on every syllable.
"Years and years ago, there existed the most
noble and respectable of Neopian races - the Kumlaa Eyrie Clan of Mystery Island.
Their story has long been dismissed as a fairytale. But it is not my duty to
tell you what really happened on that fateful day. I am here to remind you of
the legend come to life...
"Many, many years ago, at the beginning of the
age of the New Neopians, there appeared a new nation. A nation of strong, fast
creatures. A genius nation. A political nation. A nation of art-lovers and of
fierce warriors that lived side-by-side with the Tatsus and the earliest of
Neopets, before they evolved to become what they are today. These were the first
Eyries - a window into the future of Neopia. They were the Kumlaas: a Clan of
Eyries that had long-surpassed their physical and mental expectations of the
time and had formed an intellectual and artistic society whilst their cousins
were barely learning to form language. But their fame was shorter lived than
they deserved, and had this strong race's enemies known what befell them in
the future, they would never have caused the most terrible accident. "The last
leaders of this Clan we now know to be Iagan_22_20 and Thyora_45_20, and they
ruled the twenty-first and final Kumlaa dynasty in a valley called Denholm near
the Kumlaa River of Mystery Island. Their rule was the most celebrated and successful
of all the dynasties... until there was a stampede. An enormous stampede of
hungry Skeiths on the plains, bent on malice and destruction, all the way through
the Kumlaas' beloved homeland. This stampede came completely out of the blue,
and it was during the season when they most vulnerable.
"The effects were catastrophic. The Skeiths
trampled many, many Eyries until there were only a few of the magnificent beasts
left alive. The once-proud race was running out of ideas. There were just too
many of the Skeiths, and too few Kumlaas since the wave of the stampede had
left the body of their existence crippled and scarred.
"So they planned an attack. With Iagan, the
magnificent Alpha Male of the Clan went his eldest cub, Aren, Thyora's brother
Ponfrie, and many more warriors. The attack was launched, but it was of no use.
The Skeiths were just too strong for them. The Eyries' attack failed, and in
the process, they lost Thyora's dearly loved brother Ponfrie, and the young
Aren was badly wounded. "By this time, the survivors - only a few adults and
some cubs - were pining for their loss. Not only the loss of their friends and
family, but also the loss of their home. After this attack, it was clear that
they could never stay in Mystery Isle again. Thyora, however, was the most wounded
spiritually by the events, and took a temporary refuge by the Kumlaa River to
say her farewells to her homeland, and to mourn the loss of her brother.
"As luck would have it, Nereid the Water Faerie
had been disturbed by the violent events on land and was swimming upstream when
she heard the Eyriess' woeful sobs. She approached Thyora and asked her what
was the matter. Thyora painfully recounted the exact events leading to the Faerie
discovering her: the stampede; Ponfrie's murder; the pure sense of hopelessness
that echoed throughout the Clan. It is said that Nereid took pity on her and
used her magic to create a powerful shield in the form of an amulet out of a
single tear from Thyora's cheek. Had Ponfrie been wearing the pendant, he would
have survived the Skeiths' fatal attack. Though it was too little too late.
"Nowadays scientists have discovered the real
Thyora's Tear to be a carbon deposit from the deepest underground caves in the
heart of Mystery Island, thousands of miles away from where this should have
taken place. And it is for this reason that many have dismissed the Kumlaa Clan's
collapse as mere fairytale.
"Back to the story though, an opportunity to
put the ghosts of the past to rest was taken by the eldest cub, Aren. He took
Thyora's Tear and - with the amulet about his neck - hovered above the valley
and issued a chilling warning to the Skeiths:
"'See what you have done, you monsters? Don't
you see that you have destroyed what you have been searching for? You fools!
The key to the Dragonmist's revival does not lie in anything solid, but in the
hearts of us all! And now you have destroyed us. And the only comfort we are
given is that you will NEVER succeed in your evil deeds!'
"And with that, Aren glided back over the mountains
of Mystery Island to rejoin his Clan, and to this day no one really knows why
he said that. Or what this 'Dragonmist' was. That was the last recorded sighting
of any Kumlaa. There are many theories floating around about what really happened
to them. Some say they separated and finally died out, and that the blood of
the Kumlaas still exists in some of us. Others say that they were all hunted
down, deliberately maybe, so that those Skeiths would never find what they were
searching for, whatever that was. And there are still others, the optimists
and idealists, who think that the ancient race is still alive today..."
The old grey Eyrie sneered at that last far-fetched
comment, and chuckled at the stunned appearance of his audience of thousands,
and took back his seat on the stage.
The Mayor took out a crisp handkerchief and blotted
his forehead impatiently.
"Well... uh... now that you know, I'll hand
it over to Professor C. Chesterpot to explain these incredible findings to you
all," he announced, gratefully delegating the microphone to the Acara who was
quivering, knock-kneed, just below his elbow. He approached the microphone warily.
"Er... well... yes. Thank you very much for
that... enlightening and very accurate explanation of how the Kumlaa legend
came about, including the most recent discoveries within the prophecies of this
marvellous manuscript. The Kumlaa Scrolls is a composition of artefacts that
have been dated to approximately 200 years ago."
An almighty gasp rose up from the crowd, which
put a pleased grin on the old Acara's face.
"Yes, well. When th-the Scrolls were recovered,
I managed to decipher a few of hieroglyphs on the front, and as time went on,
the majority of the codes were transcribed. We scientists believe that they
document the amazingly detailed circumstances that accompanied the fall of the
Kumlaas told by an Island Mystic who received a vision at this time and, though
we have no idea when the Kumlaa Clan actually met their demise, this document
has been dated back to hundreds of years ago! Yet much of the Scrolls have unfortunately
been worn off by wear and tear over the many years, but it does indeed give
an incredibly accurate account of the events so well narrated by sir just before."
The Eyrie puffed out the feathers on his mane
proudly and sat right back on his seat. Elsewhere, the shady figure's eyes narrowed,
and he made his way towards a gap in security at the back of the stage. Chesterpot
smiled warmly and continued his speech.
"Here I shall read out the translations of whatever
runes we have discovered, which are said to have been written 200 years ago:
"When the steel temples arise, the world
will be overcome with greed. It is then when he will come with his terrible
army... night dragons... heavenly being bearing a cross in a heart. Accompanying
her, the copper sword, a new Excalibur, never wielded... last of the pure...
half an arrow... bullet in the sky... spirits of the past will reawaken..."
By now, the Professor's tone had changed dramatically,
becoming now sombre and cultured. He adjusted his glasses calmly and said, "After
this point the rest of the scrolls has been so worn away that it is incomprehensible.
It is believed to be the old mystic's prediction of the fall of the Kumlaa Clan...
or possibly just a tale created to scare Island children..."
The Professor finished his sentence and dissolved
into his own thoughts, pondering more and more on the dismissed notion of a
'prediction'.
He shook himself out of the trance, which was
echoed by the audience hanging on his every word, his every breath or blink
of an eyelid, and started to resume his speech. But as far as the audience was
concerned, he didn't say a word.
In fact, he had said a word. He had said several
words. But there no one around paying so little attention to him as to notice
the severed cord of the microphone lying broken and spewing sparks along the
ground. The Acara tapped the speaker, dumbfounded, but it made no effect. A
few guards looked around and shrugged.
Everything seemed to happen in an instant. Not
a cold breeze, as you might expect, but a tropical breeze snaked through the
crowd, towards the stage, where it rattled an amount of brightly coloured shells
on the attire of a figure. A silent figure standing in the gantry, who passed
totally unnoticed by the mesmerised guards, his long feet wrapping round the
metal bars, gripping the lights with skeletal fingers. Upon hearing the clatter
of shells, the occupants of the stage turned their eyes skyward, and their audience
followed their lead. The new figure smiled under his shadow and leapt from the
gantry, landing neatly on the pine wooden microphone stand directly in front
of Professor Chesterpot with his back to the audience. The Professor jumped
back on the stage and scrabbled along the stage, terrified yet amazed by the
towering man above him.
Everyone else on the stage froze upon seeing
the man, afraid to move or blink or even breathe for fear of angering him. He
was an awesome sight. Dwarfing the senate like a heron dwarfs chickens. A penetrating
glare through a variety of henna tattoos across his face. Heavily laden with
a poncho covered in seashells and feathers. Many different kinds of tooth were
strung onto a thin and dwindling string around his neck, and the rag he was
wearing was embroidered and painted with a thick, mushy paint. Rudimentary,
and not manufactured at all. Massive hoops ran through his ears and typically
there was a small bone through his nose.
The Island Mystic bared his yellow teeth in a
devious grin and spoke like an old door, creaking as it closed. "What ho! my
Professor friend! You don't look pleased to see me. I wonder why that would
be..."
The Mayor peered out from behind his chair and
yelled in a mock-brave fashion, "Who are you? What business do you have here?
Can't you see we're in the middle of a conference?"
The Mystic's face was cold, expressionless. His
penetrating eyes bore into the senate and rooted them all to the spot, fascinating
them. Yet terrifying them. None of them could tell what this strange man was
going to do next - his face could have been a canvas painting, giving nothing
away. He spoke in hissing and sardonic tones, almost taunting the council. Yet
he was so cultured. So knowledgeable. Like he knew something they didn't. Something
dark. Something terrible.
"You should never have set foot upon Mystery
Isle, Professor. You have ambled your way through the Semantic Fields of Denholm
Valley, and you have become blind to what you have really discovered. I am not
here to curse you, my dear Mayor. I am here to pray for you. To pray for your
souls. To pray that your marvellous discovery shall not fall into the wrong
hands, or it will certainly mean doom upon all of us."
And with that, the Island Mystic took a solemn
bow and literally disappeared in a puff of blue smoke.
***
Angel skipped happily down the lane towards the NSPA headquarters. The sun
beamed down on the, evaporating dew from the flowers and making the glen smell
heavenly - the aftermath of last night's storm. She hummed to herself as she
passed felled trees and --
A huge ochre blur flexed its muscles and pounced
on her from a branch on a pine tree! The impact sent them both rolling over
a hill, eventually coming to a halt centimetres away from a giant mud puddle!!
Angel prised open her eyes... to see her Kougra brother pinning her to the ground.
"Rincham!" she cried, "I told you, don't do
that again! Gerroff!"
"I'm sorry, I couldn't resist!" He grinned sheepishly
at her before changing his tone to his usual mocking, negative effect. "Some
Top Spy. You didn't even realise I've been tracking you since --"
"-- since ten minutes past seven this morning,
when I left for work. You have been leaping from tree to tree directly behind
me for the whole journey, except when I took a shortcut through Shady Dell at
half-past in an attempt to shake you off. By the looks of things you predicted
where I was going to end up, and cut through the gravel-covered paths along
Rocky's chemist, which would explain why your tail is covered in it. You intercepted
me across the pine forests; hence your paws reek of the stuff and are at present
sticking fairly large pine needles into my fur. Now gerroff!!"
"Man, you're good." He took his dinner-plate
paws off her shoulders and smiled cheekily. Angel grinned back at him, secretly
happy that he was there. She enjoyed his company, despite his constant pessimistic
and cynical attitude that got on most peoples' nerves after a while. He held
out his paw to help her up, which she graciously took.
"You heading to Town Hall now, Rincham?"
"Yup. Thought I might as well help out today."
"Yeah, me too."
"You just can't stay away from the place, can
you Angel? It's your holiday! You're supposed to enjoy yourself, not work your
socks of from dawn until dusk. That's what the 30 hour week is there for."
They trotted over the brook bridge. The stream
was now full of mud. Oh well, she thought, smiling, that'll settle in a while.
No problem!
Rincham looked at her sideways. "You're in an
unusually cheerful mood today. What gives?"
"I dunno. Is there any reason to be unhappy?
The sun is shining; there isn't a cloud in the sky, and NO MISSIONS! What could
be better?"
"Well, don't you think it's going a little too
smoothly?" asked Rincham, shifting his weight a little. "I mean, I know it has
been very quiet recently. That's what worries me. Doesn't it seem like something
should have happened by now?"
Angel laughed and ruffled his fur. "There isn't
some kind of 'secret society' of criminals that inform each other of when it's
getting too quiet! Ooo, look boss, it's getting too quiet. Let's do something
just to keep those spies on their toes!" she grinned to show him no hard feelings.
"Listen, Rin. Our job is stressful enough as it is. One day we may be relaxing
in the sun, the next day we're risking our lives." They approached the Town
Hall, where they were to report on a weekly basis. "Just enjoy the lazy days,
and don't be such a worrywart. A quiet day doesn't necessarily imply -"
To be continued...
Author's Note: Imply what? IMPLY WHAT?! Something's
up. Find out what in just 7 days time. I love to know the audience's opinions
on my stories, so if you have any compliments, criticisms, whatnot, send
'em on in! | 
