Ancient Home - Part 3

     "The Damage Is Done"

     Ambition . . . The sands at the seashore were burning from the morning sun. Neriak had been left here to fade away, unconscious, after her fight with a venomous foe back in Shenkuu. Not long after Neriak passed out from the Zombie Hissi's bites, the Shadow Shoyru ninja had been found by The Weekly Warm-Hearted, a friendly group of travellers who all visit a different region of Neopia every Friday and hand out gifts to anyone passing by. However, none in the group could figure out how to wake up the poisoned Shoyru after days of looking after her. So, they decided it was best to take her to a more relaxed environment far away from whatever dangers were following her in the town's streets. They said their goodbyes and prayers for the stranger clad in heavy, dark attire decked with terrorizing weapons none in the group had ever seen before.

     Neriak woke up with the driest feeling in her throat. Her paws and wings were covered in sand, so it only made it worse when she rubbed her eyes to see where she was. Her qi, weakened drastically, could no longer comprehend her surrounding, which appeared more like a dreamlike fantasy. Until she felt a small, scaly paw on her right shoulder from behind.

     "This water will help you. Please," said Sarlei, a Scorchio dressed in what seemed to be royal garments. "Please," she repeated firmly.

     Neriak glanced at the vial of water in Sarlei's paw, then sighed softly, accepting her help. She turned and sat more comfortably before the opulent stranger. Taking the vial, without a word or so much as a thank you, she drenched her sandy wings, then her face. She took only the smallest sip to drink, for it was all she needed now that her sharp sense of awareness was returning. Through her wings, she could once again feel all movements and sounds around her. And, she could now clearly see who was standing before her. "Sc-scorchio delegate Sarlei?!" the ninja asked, coughing in shock. "Of the dragon factions, correct?"

     "Oh! Er . . . Well, I must say I wasn't expecting you to know who I am. I was only in charge of making sure you were safe from harm. But now, I'm curious as to how you know me." Sarlei played with her earrings on one side and smiled a little proudly. "Perhaps Queen Freilian's . . . influence has reached to other lands? Perhaps . . . you heard it was because of me?" she asked, deep down seeking affirmation from the total stranger. It was not often she got a chance to speak with the people like she used to. Freilian, the Queen of Dragons, was only recently crowned, and Sarlei was removed from her previous duties to advise the Queen and be by her side at all times.

     Neriak noticed the delegate's need for attention and collected herself before speaking. "I am a Shoyru. I know who all the dragon council members are. But I apologise, for I have not yet heard of the new leader." Neriak quickly adjusted her jacket to cover the weapons attached to her belt. "Praise the skies," she quickly added to appear like a normal person to the smiling delegate.

     "Oh, yes! Praise the skies!" Sarlei repeated. She looked at Neriak for a moment, almost getting lost in her thoughts, until she suddenly remembered the other order given to her. She snapped out of her daydream and then held her paw out. "Let me help you up."

     Neriak took her paw, thinking she may as well get on the delegate's good side.

     "Who are you, by the way?" Sarlei asked, firmly holding the Shoyru's paw and pulling it a little closer.

     Betrayal . . . "The Island Mystic gets his powers from the magic of the island itself. Not all too different from me using the island to . . . create magic of my own." The Isle Shaman, Pango Pango, cleared his throat in his underwater cavern about a league away from Mystery Island. He was talking to the two brothers on a search for a cursed crown shard belonging to an evil king coconut created by Pango Pango himself. "And, the magic of the obelisk is like no other. The pride and riches from winning at its battleground is very much worth your while. I can make it happen."

     "Yeah, just as long as we hand over this freaky coconut to you, right?" Scavert shot back. The Gelert seafarer stuffed the king evil coconut into the magical basket used to keep the cursed thing restrained. "Not going to happen. We're only here for the little broken crown piece I can see dangling from the end of your spear. And, buddy, I already made your royal friend here shut up for good, 'cause I don't hear it scream no more like it did earlier. So, if you want to be next . . . ." Scavert folded his arms.

     The Isle Shaman felt like he was losing them, and he didn't want to fight them. He could tell the Gelert was protected by one of the many runes of the mysterious obelisk, which would dispel any curse he tried on him. So, the Coconut JubJub turned his attention to the Mutant Vandagyre instead. "Tell your friend that he needn't return the king to me. Whatever he did to it, it's clear the king is mute now. What good is an evil king that cannot wail? Toss it, I say. In there." He pointed to the toxic waste contained within a bed of tall rocks by the wall of his cavern, scaring the king evil coconut, who could see out from the top of the basket. "All I ask of you in return is to take me with you to Tyrannia's battleground. Fair offer, is it not?"

     The psychic mutant chimed in. "The Island Mystic is a good person. I wouldn't be who I am without him." Vanduck looked around the cavern and noticed the cave painting of the Isle Shaman was made with what looked like guts of deceased ocean critters. He turned back to make eye contact with Pango Pango. "He warned me about you. But, I want to know . . . Why do you want to go to Tyrannia? I've heard it's a place of ancient history. Does that make the magic of this 'obelisk' powerful?"

     "The power from that obelisk is unimaginable. If I could only harness the magic used by that oracl—" The Isle Shaman stopped himself from revealing any more. He growled to play it off as though he had something in his throat, then continued. "Or I could see if I can enchant the two of you with a buff spell of assured victory for the next battle in Tyrannia. I'd be using the obelisk's aura from far away. I do work better from a distance." He stood there, smiling wryly, but received silence from the two brothers looking at each other, then back at him. Growling again after hearing Scavert cough exaggeratingly to make a point, he went on to say, "I just want to absorb a little bit of its magic for myself. Maybe store it in a little bottle. In return, you both will be far greater rewarded. The power from that obel—"

     "All right. We will take you," Vanduck interrupted. Before letting Scavert reject the idea, he said, "If you let us toss all the pieces of the king's crown inside that pit of green waste, you seem fine letting us throw your king in. His crown should be no problem, yes?" His gaze was calm, but strong, convincing even his brother of the logic in that question.

     Gripping his spear harder, frustrated, the Isle Shaman forced himself to agree. He had been waiting a long time for the king evil coconut to grow and fall from his wickedly cursed palm tree—years in fact. And now here he was meeting it for the first time all for nought, ready to discard it, if it helps even a little in the negotiation. "You may have this crown piece." He ripped it off his spear and lobbed it over to Vanduck. "Go. Hurry and end that coconut along with its dark crown. May it rest in agony." Pango Pango watched the unsparing brothers make their way over to the toxic waste; he caught one last look at the king evil coconut looking back at him with the faintest fire burning from its eyes, knowing it was failed by its creator.

     Repetition . . . The Queen of Dragons darted across the sky and landed next to Sarlei. She was followed closely behind by her other advisor, Grenth, a camouflage Skeith. "Sarlei, introduce this one," Freilian demanded, looking straight at the apprehensive ninja.

     "I apologise, Ma'am." Sarlei bowed respectfully. "But, I couldn't get the Shoyru to tell me her name."

     "So, you're the Queen." Neriak bowed her head quickly as a sign of respect, but, in reality, she couldn't care less for any of the dragon council. Dragonkind or not, Neriak always marched to the greedy beat of her own drum, looking out for herself and no one else. "I hear you're doing a great job. As our leader, I'm grateful you could take the time to help me." Neriak moved closer. "My name. It's Pyrez. An orphan, got into some trouble, you know the rest. Just want to—" Neriak paused to contemplate the Queen's claws dripping blood fresh from the hunt, but she continued nonetheless. "Find a way back home to Shenkuu. Could use a flying ship for that, Ma'am. Then, I'll be out of your way."

     "You think I'm stupid. Tell everyone your real name now. This is your last chance, so let's see how stupid you think I am," Freilian replied in her feminine, soft voice. She'd been Queen for only a few weeks, but had already learned of the numerous affairs of each rogue dragon around Neopia—Neriak being Shenkuu's infamous shinobi of the night because of her natural Shadow paint and cunning skills as a silent thief.

     "I am Neriak Krohea. Pleasure to meet you all," she said in duress.

     "Thank you. Though my advisors might not, I know exactly who you are. And you left quite the mess back at the Lunar Temple. But I dealt with the other criminal who betrayed you and left you poisoned after your burglary attempt." She chuckled softly at the ninja's plight. "All for a fancy staff you were going to sell anyway."

     "What do you mean you dealt with . . . ? You mean you . . . ?" Neriak turned her gaze back to the Queen's claws covered in red.

     Freilian noticed it. "Oh," she said, looking down at her own claws. "Yes, I did, just now. Lucky for you, he wasn't a dragon. You are."

     The group was interrupted by the sound of a boat engine breaking down out in the ocean. The boat was carrying Scavert, Vanduck, and Pango Pango. The four dragons flew out to investigate. When Grenth saw the Coconut JubJub in shaman attire, he quickly alerted Freilian of the danger. "Ma'am, I believe that is the wicked one they call the Isle Shaman. His chaotic magic is known to cause havoc," he explained in a hushed tone.

     Pango Pango looked up at the Striped female Draik, whose aura radiated strongly and brilliantly enough to impress him. He slowly reached for his spear, enchanted with powerful magic, and waited for a chance to leap and strike her down. Whatever strength this Draik possessed, he wanted all of it.

     Neriak, no stranger to cheap shots, lifted up the side of her jacket, and, in a flash, grabbed the five shurikens concealed in her belt; without a warning to anyone, she threw them quickly, foiling the JubJub's plans as each shuriken swiftly sliced the spear in perfectly spaced pieces.

     Open-mouthed and wide-eyed, Pango Pango gawked at the remaining piece of his spear clutched in his foot, then slowly looked back out toward the ocean in total fear. His dark spear was not supposed to ever break, he thought, and definitely not get cut down so easily. The only way to take down evil . . . is with evil itself, the JubJub assumed. He looked up to see the culprit and saw the cold glare from the satisfied ninja. His eye twitched. In a rush, he chanted a hex as a last resort. "Ambition . . . Betrayal . . . Repetition . . . Ambition . . . Betrayal . . . Repetition . . . ."

     Hope . . . Vanduck quickly used his tentacles to grapple the taffrail of the boat, then his front tentacles to keep the Isle Shaman held in place. "Scavert, now! Use the obelisk's rune the shaman was telling us about!"

     It took a moment for Scavert, completely caught off guard, to understand what Vanduck wanted. But he somehow, at the same time, still got his arm to quickly reach inside his back pocket and pull out the runic stone that had long protected him with divine magic—the same stone that kept the Isle Shaman from harming him. "Uhh, all right! Now what?!" he asked, flustered, as he looked at Vanduck, then discreetly up at the dragons watching from above.

     With ease, Freilian swooped down and snatched the rune from Scavert's paw. Although the rune blessed him with a defence that warded off thieves, Freilian was not actually stealing what was, in fact, rightfully hers. All the ancient runes of the obelisk held the same magic as the egg from which Freilian hatched. She was a very special dragon and more than just a Draik. She was Tyrannia's supreme commander reincarnated the twelfth time around. The obelisk's mystical aura always carried the past lives of all the commanders, generations, and so much more. The same magical wavelength Freilian and the obelisk emitted and rode, allowed the two to connect almost by fate.

     Freilian studied the writing on the curly runic symbol. "Hope." The faint glow from the symbol grew suddenly brighter, shooting sparkles in the air around Freilian. She sensed the bond to its past and her own: Like in some other dimension made only for them, the Commander reincarnate and the rune were facing each other in peace, in glory. Slowly, the two moved closer, until the rune fused with Freilian. One of many symbols, this particular rune of hope came at just the right time for the Queen. She'd been concerned if her actions, as the new sovereign, were just and progressive. Not many agreed with the dragon council of Neopia, and she was hoping to change the minds of the naysayers.

     The Skeith advisor darted down to help her, nervous about all the sorcery happening on this strange boat. "Queen Freili—"

     "Gaoo!" Sending tall waves outward from around the boat, the bellow coming from Freilian rang out loudly enough to stagger even all those watching her.

     Unknown to any of them, there was actually an audience of sightseers, too. Witnessing it all from the cliffside, they were fascinated by the presence of the Queen of Dragons and the bright flash. They, too, were knocked off their balance and groaned, bringing attention to themselves.

     Freilian saw them from the corner of her eye and stopped bellowing. "Grenth! Sarlei! Neriak! Take the one called the Isle Shaman back to his island in the south. I'll make sure the people over there are fine. Go." She snapped her wings up and flew off in a dash toward the coast.

     Sarlei and Neriak glided down to join Grenth on the boat, and the three seized the shaman. Vanduck released his hold on the Isle Shaman as they restrained him with their incredible brute strength as dragons.

     Since she had taken his rune without permission, Scavert's eyes stayed on Freilian the entire time. He didn't know she was the Dragon Queen—being an ignorant Gelert and not a dragon himself. Still, he wanted his rune returned to him.

     "You two all right? You're not with him, are you?" Grenth asked the Vandagyre and the Gelert.

     Pulling his tentacles back to relax, Vanduck said, "Not really. It's a long story, but we were—"

     "Grenth, let's go. Mystery Island is hours from here." Sarlei tapped her foot.

     "Actually, I believe that he might be from The Isle of Fay, not far from Mystery Island," Vanduck interrupted.

     "I see. Thank you for your help." Grenth bowed his head to Vanduck before turning back to the desert Scorchio. "Sarlei, I know where that isle is. Follow me."

     "I'll have my revenge! I'll find you and siphon the aura from every one of you! Starting with you," Pango Pango growled at Neriak. His resentment for being suddenly repatriated after finally arriving at his destination was a pleasant sight to see, Vanduck thought. "My curses don't end! I swear I will—"

     Neriak pulled the Kazeriu whip from her belt and swiftly wrapped and tied it around the Coconut JubJub as a gag, the handle shoved in his mouth.

     Sarlei chuckled at Neriak's solution. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"

     "I could teach you a few tricks," she offered. "You know, as thanks for the water earlier." Neriak's opinion about the council had started to change as she spent time with the Queen and her advisors.

     "Hmm. I'll hold you to that, Neriak Krohea. First, let's take this fool to his isle before Queen Freilian notices we've yet to leave." Sarlei grabbed a stronger hold on the Isle Shaman's left foot while Neriak gripped his right and Grenth held onto him by the head. The three dragons set off flying.

     "I guess we don't have to worry about him anymore. Still, I was looking forward to seeing the ancient magic of the obelisk." Vanduck wistfully watched the dragons leave with their captive.

     "We don't have time to think about that weird shaman. That Draik just took my rune, the one thing we had that was connected to the obelisk." After a fraught silence, Scavert grumbled, then jumped into the ocean and swam toward the shoreline. He knew his boat engine wasn't going to start anytime soon.

     Without hesitation, his brother followed him by skating over the surface of the ocean, using bursts of propulsion from his mutant legs to shoot out stored water.

     "My roar might be just too mightiful for those not of dragon descent. I'm here to see if you're all right," Freilian exclaimed to the crowd of sightseers, who were all starstruck.

     "Oh, my goodness! Queen of Dragons! May I have your autograph? You're so beautiful!" The clamour from the group made it difficult for Freilian to know who said what, but she was glad they seemed fine after tumbling from her roar, and stayed a while to chat with all the non-dragons.

     When Scavert arrived at the shore, he didn't let himself slow down; he looked all around him to find the cliffside where the crowd stood, then dashed in a sprint in that direction. When he arrived, dripping wet, the Gelert seafarer stomped over to Freilian as he passed through the crowd.

     Like a reflex, one of the sightseers put her hand out to offer a Turned Tooth as a gift to him. "Happy Friday!"

     Catching her hand in his peripheral, Scavert stopped walking to turn his head toward her. "Thanks . . . You too. I got some business to deal w—" He cut himself off to check out the interesting gift. "Wait . . . What is that?"

     "Just something I'm handing out to everyone this week." The sweet Lenny shrugged her shoulders, smiling. "I heard there were lots of young battlers using it a lot lately. Maybe it'll help you. I believe it's called the Turned T—"

     "Turned Tooth. Yeah . . . I've heard of it . . . Never did get to own one myself, though I've looked . . . I definitely looked for one." Shaking his head and scratching it, he sighed with slight confusion on his face, feeling like he may now be more interested in the weapon that was all the rage than the rune he'd wanted back. "So, uh, what do you want in return? What is this here? A market?"

     "No, we're just here visiting." The Weekly Warm-Hearted explained who they were and that they performed random acts of kindness or gave gifts to whomever they met each Friday, then celebrated the week's accomplishments together.

     When Vanduck arrived, he too was greeted with a marvellous gift. But, this gift was more of a reunion—his gold charm he'd previously had to fork over to a terribly tough Koi warrior he had no chance of defeating. He looked at the lucky bone necklace handed to him, noticed the engraved "V" at the top, and then asked, "How did you get this?"

     The Weekly Warm-Hearted told him they had found many souvenirs along Tyrannia's coastline, so the theme of the gift that week was "something skeletal". In fact, because the Island Mystic had made and blessed the lucky bone necklace for Vanduck, it was destined to always return to him.

     "Mystic used to say that the 'wishbone' of this bone is the 'V' that stands for Vanduck." He chuckled alongside his brother, who was also happy with this turn of events.

     Freilian moved closer to the mutant Vandagyre. "You are a very interesting creature. What brings you to Tyrannia?"

     To be continued…