Arthur: A Weapon's Tale: Part Three

      It was an odd hour to be out in Happy Valley with few Neopians around. Art kept his head down, moving swiftly on the cold cobblestone path. The Snowager would be asleep any moment now and he would need all the time he could get. The path wound its way through town until pavement turned to ice.

     Arthur’s breath quickened as he neared the entrance of the famed cave deep within the Ice Caves. It was massive and seemingly endless, the darkness swallowing all that it could touch. Art tensed as his nerves spiked and a wave of adrenaline rushed through his veins. He was motionless, staring off into the black.

     The echo of dripping icicles only made Arthur more nervous. If the Snowager woke up, he would be frozen and left until someone managed to help him out. He had brought a small lantern to provide some light when he reached the treasure.

     After what seemed like only seconds, Arthur reached the massive ice beast. The Snowager’s chest rose and fell slowly with each deep breath. Arthur kept his head down, and moved for the pile of treasure. Plushies squeaked as the Snowager shifted its weight over the immense pile of goods.

     Arthur’s face was perplexed, his mouth frowning as he scanned the mountain goods. He pursed his lips and crept slowly into the pile. Wadding around, Art felt himself wince every time he made a noise. He instinctively looked to the Snowager, who was in a deep asleep.

     Arthur felt the frustration boil in his hands and face; each minute wasted a ticking clock until the Snowager woke up. He was sick of seeing countless scratchcards, plushies and cheap battledome weapons: he wanted the shield. As the panic began to settle, Art felt himself doubting the Brain Tree’s wisdom. He wanted to kick the nearest snowball, but refrained from causing a commotion.

     As he turned to back on his current path, the glitter caught his eye. This was definitely something rare, nothing he was used to seeing. He edged his way over and nearly fainted at the sight.

     His hands grazed the intricate pattern and the gold rim. Arthur pulled out the rough sketch he had taken from Kayla. His hands shook as he reached to unearth it from the pile of treasures. Art felt an enormous grin break his face, until he saw a nearby gold goblet shift suddenly from the displacement of the shield. He watched in horror as the cup shifted, before tumbling to the ground in a loud commotion. As it shattered into a thousand pieces, Art swiveled to look at the Snowager.

     The first icy blast just barely missed Art, who began sprinting back the way he came. He held the shield up as his only defence, the Snowager slithering towards him. The sweat broke his forehead, but his adrenaline surged. He was so close; he could almost taste the fresh air in his mouth.

     Arthur felt the jolt in his back, the blast hitting the shield straight on. Its power forced him to his knees and he struggled to his feet. Art could see the beginning of the cave and with the little remaining strength he had, he forced his feet up and onward to the entrance. The sting of the ice against his feet was nothing compared to the blasts he had received from the beast.

     The Snowager reeled, crying in anger. Arthur bent over, panting, in an attempt to regain his breath. That had been too close for his taste.

     Turning to the bewildered stranger nearby, Art gave him a short look. “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”

     After successfully retrieving the shield from the Snowager, Arthur headed back to his cabin for some much needed rest. Despite his aching muscles and blistered feet, Art felt incredibly relieved and light. He was half way to finding the items he needed to help save Meridell. His blood pumped faster, his chest filled with fresh air and he smiled with every step.

     Arthur took the time to rest at the cabin for several days, regaining his strength after his battle with the Snowager. It had been both emotionally and physically taxing on him, and despite the newfound joy in his mission, he was tired.

     After a weeklong rest, Arthur set back out into the harsh winter of Terror Mountain. His footsteps crunched deep into the powdery snow as he made his way down the hillside. He managed to avoid the busier parts of town, hoping to not run into familiar faces. At this point in this mission, he had no time to waste.

     His sailing friend had already departed back to Neopia Central, meaning Arthur was stuck with the peculiar Krawk, whose patch and peg leg only made the encounter stranger. The small talk was minimal and the two sat in silence as they rowed through the rough seas towards Shenkuu. Arthur had planned to avoid the city entirely for fear of distractions. Its beauty could be compelling, but Arthur was already pressed for time. If he was going to save Meridell, he had to act fast.

     The sight of land was of relief to Arthur. He paid his dues to the navigator and burst with speed through the brush of the forest. The area below Shenkuu was expansive and marked by foliage but largely uninhabited. The thick brush slowed the dragon considerably, slashing at his limbs with every step. Arthur felt himself get hot, from both the physical exertion and from the frustration he felt. His time was too short to be wasted trekking.

     Several days later, Arthur was standing outside the city, the sun reflecting off the coast. Altador itself was a stunning city, and he made a mental note to come visit more. In the distance was most of the housing and residences for Neopians everywhere. The city lay guarded by a thick concrete wall. Above, water ran smoothly through the aqueduct system.

     Arthur made his way to the main gate and passed through easily. The city was made up of winding cobble paths as they cut through the lush grass. He had only visited the city a few times in his life, since it was so far from his home of Meridell. After a few circles, he bit his lip in confusion.

     “Excuse me,” he began to a pink Shoyru, walking past. “You don’t by chance know where to find Finneus, the Lenny?” The Shoyru nodded, pointing behind her.

     “Head straight and make a left. It’s a little ways at the back, but once you see the sign, you can’t miss it.” Arthur nodded, quickly thanked the stranger and continued on his path.

     Her directions could not have been more perfect. Despite being out of breath and sweaty from the warm sun, Arthur had finally found the Altadorian Archives. It had been revitalized since the recent turmoil concerning the Darkest Faerie, and now many people sought to visit the library for its involvement with the events. Arthur had never bothered to come, opting instead to help Meridell restructure the castle so it would be protected from dark magic itself.

     The window mosaic radiated from the sunlight that poured in through the skylight. The door to Finneus’ office was open and Arthur crept up slowly. His soft knocks were answered with a kind greeting.

     “Ah, come in, come in!” Finneus started brightly. His office had boxes and papers in every nook and cranny. Arthur stretched out a hand with a heartfelt smile.

     “Hi Finneus. I’m Arthur, and I’ve come to see you from Meridell. I was hoping you could answer a few questions for me.”

     Finneus beamed, shaking his hand exuberantly. “Oh, from Meridell! Well, gladly, I’d love to be of service. How is it that I can help?”

     Arthur tensed, closing the door behind him. His eyes scanned the room, but the mess made it impossible to sit and discuss the artifacts.

     “I’m going to cut right to the chase. As you can see…” Arthur swung the Shield of Protection from his back and let the sunlight beam brightly on its jewels. “I’m trying to find the Sword of Triumph. I just recently retrieved the shield and I was hoping you would know where the sword ended up.”

     Finneus stopped, staring at the shield. It was silent in the office and Arthur felt the quick rush of fear run down his back. He went to say more, but the Lenny cut him off, pushing him towards the door.

     “I know nothing of this sword. But, I think it’s best you leave, I’m a little busy with some research.”

     “But, Finneus, it’s very impor-“

     “I’m afraid I can’t help you. I’m terribly sorry.” The door slammed shut and Art was wide eyed staring at it. He scratched his head in confusion and huffed out a sigh in frustration. With the shield on his arm, he ran his finger over the pattern, stopping at the sapphire in the middle. He turned to head out, but a noise caught his attention. The flutter of a loose piece of paper came from under the closed door and lay flat on the floor. There was a small message scribbled hastily onto one side. Art bent to pick it up and read its message carefully.

     “It was placed in the forest just North of Altador for protection. I don’t know its exact location, but it should be deep within the thicket of trees.

     Arthur’s heart was racing and he perhaps gripped the flimsy paper too tight. A smile broke his face, and he bounded out the library, the front door slamming behind him. His legs pushed him past the Hall of Heroes and through the gate past Magical Marvels.

      Arthur slowed his pace, trying to catch his breath after the exhilarating discovery from Finneus. He hadn’t packed much and did not intend to be in the forest for long.

     The dragon pushed past brush and leapt over fallen trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of the ancient sword reflecting in the sun’s rays as it pierced the forest canopy. It was only a matter of hours before Arthur watched the sun fade to night and the temperature drop. Art set up a small camp to wait until the sun was bright enough to keep searching.

     The second day was no different than the first, and again, Arthur felt angry going to sleep at night on the forest floor with the shield alone. Each night, for a straight week, the same feelings weighed on Arthur as he continually failed to find the sword.

     To be continued…