The Star Prophecy: Part Two

      "Allow me to explain," she replied. "In a nutshell, we're an underground organization sworn to protect books from the Ancient Times from being eradicated. We buy up books through the underground economy. We've even got some archeologists working for us. Thanks to their help, my collection continues to expand. Let me show you my life's research. Perhaps then the gears will start clicking in place. Follow me."

      We went down the trapdoor again and this time I remembered to use the ladder. Kisa lit up a dozen more candles in the room in addition to a few lanterns, revealing even more grandeur than before. There were some nice red carpets between every row of shelves adorned with golden tassels on the ends, and some burgundy seats here and there. The atmosphere seemed awfully quaint for someone who appeared as young as me, in their early twenties at least.

      "Your collection is truly stunning. I could never dream of owning all of this, let alone finding them."

      "Thanks, but I can't take all of the credit. Much of it has been in my family for generations, except for this section."

      We came to the bookshelf in the farthest corner, the same one where we had met.

      "I present to you everything connected to the Star Prophecy. Everything I've found so far, that is."

      With the yellow glow, I could see that this shelf was the emptiest one in the room, with only the top half occupied in a spectrum of reds, browns, blues and purples.

      "Allow me to explain. It all begins with a war between Neopians and Faeries—and it ends with you and me."

      She opened a book and flipped to a two-page illustration. Faceless figures of faeries and Neopians were inked in black and white.

      "Long ago, during the Era of Ancients, Neopians discovered they could harness their emotional energy and transform it into magic. Over time, their reliance on their magic got out of hand. Magic was now fully ingrained into everyday life and, as some believed, without magic society would collapse. Those gifted enough in the art created artifacts, magically infused weapons of immense power. Soon leaders of the lands became obsessed with the artifacts, spawning war after war and poisoning the lands with their darkness. Finally, the faeries decided enough was enough.

      "On one night, all of the world's most powerful faeries gathered under the half-moon. To protect Neopia, they cast away much of the magical energy from the planet, where it drifted out into space to be absorbed by the stars. For this reason, the stars shine bright enough for us to see clearly in the night sky. This act made lands turn against the faeries, convinced that removing magic from the common citizen tipped the scales in the faeries' favor—faeries who are blessed with magical abilities by nature. There was chaos, followed by ruin. Eventually, Neopians and faeries learned to coexist, as the now powerless Neopians could not defend themselves against the beings, and the faeries settled on lending their magic in support of kindness and peace. This battle is known as the first Faerie War.

      "Over time, the faeries grew more secluded, retreating to their own cloud as mere observers of the world below. Magic, while it exists, is used sparingly. Somehow, for reasons that are unclear, knowledge of the Faerie War has since vanished, and anything that remains of the artifacts is concealed within the secret history of Faerieland.

      "But the story did not end with the erasure of history. In fact, it is where ours begins. Magicians of the past can confirm to us an unsettling fact. Not all of the ancient, unstable energy was removed. Some energy was left behind in the form of 'pockets,' scattered about the world. Throughout the course of history, these pockets have caused a myriad of problems for civilizations, and ultimately many have fallen. But from the same magic that gave rise to destroyers, heroes were born, bravely using their skills to save entire lands from ruin. After so many years, most of this magic was used up, but three pockets still remain, preserved and practically untouched. From my own research, I can conclude that Arugahi Island sits directly on one of these pockets. It is no surprise that magic runs rampant here.

      "In the wrong hands, this energy can give rise to the most destructive branch of magic: dark magic. Any magician, wizard, or mage will tell you: this infamous form of magic is the workings of pure evil, due to its frightening nature. At first glance, it generates its energy from nothing, defying the very foundation of nature. Yet, as this is impossible, its energy must be taken from another source—the stars. When massive bursts of dark magic are released, the more unstable Neopia's magic becomes, and the more the stars lose their light. Currently, this is an unnoticeable phenomenon. But eventually, when all of this energy has returned to Neopia, the potential for dark magic will be unimaginable. All the magic in the world, robbed from a universe of stars, all at one's disposure... this is what is foretold by the Prophecy.

      "According to the Prophecy itself, there is one who can harness its terrible power: 'Only the brightest star will shine.' In other words, the prophecy foretells the coming of the Second Faerie War, and its outcome will lead to the end of the world."

      "That's it?" I asked. "That's all we've got? Six words?"

      "It's definitely a head scratcher," Kisa said. "Most prophecies, I'm told, are meatier. Longer, you know what I mean. It seems to me there should be more. Anyway, onward..."

      She inhaled a slow breath of air.

      "These words were discovered by a simpleton glass blower. While crafting a crystal ball with dark magic, bestowed to him was the world's greatest mystery, its greatest threat.

      "He was given a vision that describes the Faerie War in great detail, along with the six words. Except many of his sightings were not consistent with the first War, some were simply impossible. I will say with certainty this has not happened yet. Sadly, the poor guy was driven to madness over what he had witnessed: a half-moon, a world ripe with destruction, a battle against fear itself, a light that erases. Those were some of his words, in which he repeated to himself over and over again for decades.

      "If I might ask," I interrupted out of curiosity, "what was the impossible thing he saw in his vision?"

      "A Wocky. At the dawn of first Faerie War, there were no Neopians at the scene of the Casting. There was a barrier up, the most powerful ever; it would've been impossible ."

      This was a lot to take in at once. "This story was certainly grim and all, but did anyone happen to leave any hints how we can stop this from happening?"

      I didn't ask the question shouting at me to the point it was deafening: Of all people, why are you sharing all of this with me?

      "There is, in fact, one clue. I'm sure you'll agree with me. One of the most valuable gifts to us from the faeries is faerie tales."

      "Most definitely." I nodded.

      "There was a faerie tale that was written after the War, by one of the faeries who participated in the Casting. Supposedly, it's a tale about the Casting and how to vanquish its terrible power, allegorical, of course."

      "And you're gonna tell me it's right on your shelf...?"

      "It is not." She sighed. "Life is not that kind. I'm afraid it might be lost to time."

      "But in a faerie tale book, the glass blower had drawn a rune on one of the pages in one of that author's works: a key. About an inch in length, old fashioned. Take a look."

      She flipped to a bookmarked page in another book and pointed at it with her nail. Sure enough, there was a little black key. "Any guess you have about it is as good as mine."

      "But the guy was nuts, right? Maybe it doesn't mean anything."

      She took offense. "Everything he has revealed to us I can source in one of these texts as being correct, plausible, meaningful, down to the page number. You don't think I would've wasted time showing this to you if it was extraneous?"

      She noticed my jaw dropping, brought on by her sudden bout of anger. "Sorry. I got carried away."

      "But why does it have to be you—er, us? Surely you can tell someone else what you've just told me and let it be their problem? Since when do you have to be protector of the world? That's too much to expect from any person."

      It was certainly too much to expect from me.

      "The King won't listen; he probably is aware about it already. This island is a magical place. Prophecies here can be very much real. People are afraid. We can't trust anyone anymore. I don't know how much the pirates know, but they're bound to have caught wind of some inkling by now."

      "And to be frank, I'm just like you. I want to see where fate leads me. It started with just a snippet of information, and it became this. I uncovered part of a secret history! There has to be a reason for all of this, and I can't help but want to see how it ends—how I can change it."

      "It's a lot to take in," I said, looking up at the shelves. At that moment, the back of my neck throbbed with pain. "But I have a lot of time to catch up. I'll just do it tomorrow, when I'm not about to nap like a baby. Got a room you could spare?"

      "Unfortunately, no. And there's been Miamice living in the sofa. I suppose I could set up some blankets in the library if you wish."

      "You mean the basement?" I said dryly.

      "It's a library," she corrected with a sharp tone and a show-some-respect glare. "And we're in a beach house; it can't reach basement levels of cold. Would you rather sleep under the dining table? I think not!"

      "Eh, works for me," I yawned. After that spectacle, I expected some unsettling nightmares that night. Yet, I wasn't afraid. The Prophecy could happen lifetimes from now. The world has survived all these years despite thousands of doomsayers; one more may not make a difference. Life may not be so bad here, I decided. I had a roof over my head, and food to eat. At the least, the doomsaying was entertaining. In any case, I had a job to do: improve my magic.

      As it turns out, it was a slow process. Fact was, Kisa and I were opposite people. I didn't come here to concern myself with organization, folding clothes, sweeping up every bit of dust, but apparently that was a Kisa thing.

      "I'd rather not contribute any more entropy to the universe if I can avoid it," she would say with her hands on her hips.

      Like clockwork I followed my new routine. Every morning after breakfast we would review over some beginner level spell books. I thought it was the work of kid stuff, such as making sparkles, but she had insisted we start with the basics.

      "Why live here, of all places?" I had said, watching the ocean waves lap the shore. "Wouldn't the floods drive you away?"

      "A beach house doesn't seem like an ideal place for a library, and that's exactly why it's perfect!" she boasted.

      She grabbed a white quill—a Weewoo tail feather, I presume—and with one twist of her wrist a translucent blue barrier covered every wall. When I ran my hand across it, I felt only air.

      "This is a charm to keep the water out." With another twist, the barrier dissolved into sparkles and disappeared. She smiled up at me. "Plus, with so much water around, we have little to worry about when it comes to the library's greatest threat: fire. That doesn't mean I'm willing to teach you any fire spells, though—accidents can happen, especially from you. This spell should be easy for you after a little practice."

      In the afternoons we would move to the library, where I helped her catalog new additions and do all of the heavy lifting. In the night, if I wasn't already exhausted, I read over fantasy tales from thousands of years ago. They were grand tales of magicians fighting the evil forces that had ascended to the island, and sometimes, against rogue outsiders on a quest to seize the island for conquest. Yet in no books were mentions of faeries or any lands I recognized. The world I once knew was not even as much as a myth. A huge chunk of her collection was written entirely in symbols, too, as it was the island's official language long ago. No matter how I looked at it, I couldn't escape the fact that this place was as foreign as a purple potato. I wasn't sure I could ever fully embrace it as my home.

      At the start of my third week, we went over some ground rules.

      "You will encounter pirates in every village or town. Do not confront them, and especially, do not engage them in battle. They show brutality without limits or mercy. They have the moral aptitude of a stone wall."

      "Yeah, yeah, you told me this already," I said with my chin resting on the table and tapping my fingers.

      "It's of the utmost importance! After all, we're breaking their laws here!"

      "Their laws? I thought the King made the laws."

      "I'm afraid the King has little power over the pirates. If anything raises suspicion, the pirates will be the first to arrive, and whatever they say goes."

      "Sounds like a nice way to live," I said sarcastically.

      "It's the way it is. Now, the second thing. Never set foot on Arugamere Island."

      "Aruga-what-now?" It was hard enough for me to keep track of names as it is.

      "It's the twin island to the one we're on now. There's a curse that pervades that land. Some who return from there are forever changed. Not to mention it's infested with pirates. Steer clear of it at all costs."

      "What a paradise we live in," I said. I thought islands were supposed to be just that. No wonder this place is cut off from the rest of Neopia. "Is that all?"

      "For now, yes," Kisa said. "Feel free to go to the market when you're ready. I've got some money stashed away, too. You should be able to get yourself something proper."

      Her eyes scanned my outfit, the same shirt and baggy shorts I was wearing in the ocean, except now it was full of holes and the edges were frayed, clumps of string dangling at my knees. I was a wreck.

      "Just don't attract attention to yourself," she warned.

      Before I set off, she slipped a map in my knapsack and fastened it to my back. Unbeknownst to her, I had packed myself a little something extra. With a basic invisibility spell I concealed a thick book within the knapsack. As it dragged down at my back, I wish it would've hid the weight, too.

      For the first time I saw other islanders. Although it was summer weather, the people were dressed like me, khaki rags billowing in the wind. Children ran past me laughing to each other, and the people haggled politely at fruit stands.

      I immediately made my way to a line of clothes. The shopkeeper, a blue Lenny, was distracted and talking to another customer. Instinctively, my arm moved to swipe one from the clothesline, until Kisa's words echoed into my head. After trying on a few garments, I settled on a pair of black shorts and a short-sleeved maroon top. It was the most colorful choice they offered. I could still feel coins jingling in my new pocket. Gladly, I still had enough for food, so I wandered over to a fruit stand—a white tent. Crates of oddly shaped fruits, ranging from lumpy to coil-like, were on the table.

      "Excuse me." I turned to the shopkeeper, an aproned blue Techo who hobbled over to me. From there I spotted wrinkles on his face, and a ring of grey hair surrounding his bald spot. Once I had his attention, I held up a bubbly yellow fruit at eye-level. My hand struggled to grasp its large, round size. "What is exactly is this?"

      "Hmm?" His eyes widened. "Ah, that's a Wooblymelon. On sale today. Half price."

      "How about 20 neopoints?" I asked.

      "I said half price, lad. That's eighty percent off! I've gotta make a living, you know!"

      "Well, this one's bruised. Ain't nobody's gonna pay half price for this Wobblewoomelon!"

      He looked me right in the eye, not amused. "Are you gonna pay or what?"

      Sighing with defeat, I went to reach for the coins in my pocket when I felt someone rush by me. I turned to see a black cloaked Lupe towering beside me. His face was lined with scars, and his eyes were a pair of bright red orbs affixed on the shopkeeper. He snatched up a green fruit and took a bite out of it, the thick skin no match for his enormous front teeth. He chewed obnoxiously, smacking his tongue. Some of the juice splattered on my face.

      "Gross," he scowled and tossed the fruit behind him. "Face it, no amount of price cutting is gonna make this edible. But we've been over this already—so I'll get to the point."

      He lurched forward and grabbed the old shopkeeper by the apron. Facing him eye-to-eye, he demanded, "Where's the money?"

      The Techo shivered. "Y-you can take what I have now. The rest, I'm sure I'll have it by the end of the week."

      He pointed to something under the table. Instantly the Lupe's claws released the Techo and he seized a glass jar half-filled with coins.

      "The fields have been overrun with Moaches, forgive me," the shopkeeper pleaded. "There's not much to salvage right now, b-but soon—"

      The Lupe roared and smashed the jar on the ground, sending coins flying everywhere, stepping over the shards with what appeared to be cleats. Behind the table, the shopkeeper backed into the corner of the tent and assumed fetal position as the Lupe marched toward him. His back was now toward me, and I watched him pull out a stick from under his cloak, and with one wave flames arose from the ground. I was right outside a ring of orange flames, but not for long.

      I rushed in the tent and shoved the beast with both hands. He was taken aback, stumbled backward, and snarled at me before charging forward. I reached behind for my knapsack and pulled out my wand. Without thinking, a burst of purple light struck him in the chest, forcing him back even further. From the corner of my eye I could see the shopkeeper fleeing the scene.

      "You dare attack a pirate?" A smirk formed with his rotting teeth.

      I had the worst feeling that I was no longer alone. Sure enough, two more pirates had just entered the tent, wielding swords and keeping their distance, yet their knees were bent, preparing to strike.

      I had no choice now but to fight back.

To be continued...