A Hero's Journey: Seasons (for issue 975)

     ”Summer brings with it both the comfort of warmth and the challenge of the heat. Summer cannot exist without both.”

     - Siyana of Altador

     Over the years, the Meepit Oaks Sanitorium had received a well-needed facelift from a sinister asylum to a warm, welcoming hospice. The dull stone walls had been painted and reinforced with concrete, the rusty metal doors had been replaced, and the rooms no longer looked like dungeon cells. Staff and doctors went in and out of the building and through its wings, clad in immaculate white uniforms and lab gowns. One of them, a Ghost Ixi with a cane and a steel prosthetic leg, paused and smiled at the White Blumaroo and the Skunk Zafara standing outside the back door of the North Wing.

     “Thank you so much for agreeing to come here and help us, Beatrix,” the Ixi said, heartily shaking the Zafara’s hand before shaking the Blumaroo’s as well. “And it’s such a pleasure to finally meet you – everywhere I go, everyone’s talking about you and your friends, how you’re working to restore the darkness to the Haunted Woods! Well, I rather like the sun, but one can’t properly appreciate the day without the night, eh? Something like that.”

     “It’s nice to meet you too, Dr Blair. Beatrix already filled me in, but I’d like to check that I have this right,” said Rohane. “The North Wing is still haunted by ghosts that…that you believe are remnants from the darker days of the Sanitorium. And they prey on the sorrow, grief and pain of anyone who passes by, which makes them difficult to get rid of. But…doesn’t the Haunted Woods have their own ghost exterminators or something?”

     “These aren’t ordinary ghosts,” said Dr Blair, gesturing with a pen he took out from the pocket of his lab coat. “They’re…well, they’re more solid, for one thing. On the fine line between ‘ghoul’ and ‘spirit’ at this point. And they are capable of fusing together into one strong ghost that can hurt anyone that it faces.”

     Beatrix turned to Rohane, the normally feisty, laid-back look in her eyes dulled. “Besides, haven’t you and your squad fought ghosts before? This will be the same, only different, since you won’t have them with you, and these ghosts can…really get into your mind.”

     “If you can help us purge the North Wing, we at Meepit Oaks will be so grateful to both of you.” The Ixi sighed. “We’ve managed to contain them here, but if they get stronger, they could overrun the entire place and set all our progress back. Anyway, I must go now, but if you need any of us, we’ll be in the next wing.”

     “I’ll come find you. Take care, Doc.” Beatrix waved as the doctor continued on his merry way. Then she turned to Rohane, planting her hands on her hips. “Yeah, I could’ve enlisted the help of any ghost exterminator worth their salt, but this is the most important lesson you’ll learn yet. Sometimes, the worst enemies you’ll meet aren’t hulking monsters, but the monsters your mind creates. You need to keep your wits about you, or else it won’t matter how strong or quick you are, those ghosts will take you down.”

     “I know you’re doing this so I’ll learn how to be a better fighter, but shouldn’t you, well, come with me, at least?” He stared hard at the door to Meepit Oaks as though it were an enemy that he was sizing up. “Not because I’m scared or not ready, but because from what Dr Blair told us…”

     He could have sworn that Beatrix swallowed before speaking.

     “Oh, uh, I’ll be right behind you,” she said, waving a hand dismissively while her other hand fingered the hilt of her cutlass. “If you’re in there too long, uh, I’ll come get you. I’ll…stand guard.”

     “Beatrix? Are you all right?”

     The Skunk Zafara’s eyes widened before she shoved Rohane toward the door. “Of course I am! Look, you said you weren’t not ready, so go, do your thing! Remember, don’t let the ghosts take over your mind!”

     * * *

     Though the windows were open enough to let the sun into the North Wing, and the muffled chatter and footsteps could be heard through the walls, the hallways were deserted in an oppressive way, and Rohane half-expected, at any given moment, ghosts to start walking through the doors or the walls to ambush him. But no one – or nothing – showed up. He even peered into a supply cabinet and thought he would find a monster or a skeleton of some sort but was relieved and almost dismayed to find that it was all standard cleaning materials.

     Then, as he continued walking, what started as a prickle on the back of his neck became an unwanted journey down memory lane.

     His vision flickered between the corridors of Meepit Oaks and the living room of his house back in Trestin.

     ”He’s gone,” a White Blumaroo with curly, greying hair sobbed as she wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. Then she bent down to embrace her two sons, holding them tightly, as though they might vanish. “Your father…he died fighting Ramtor…”

     Rohane knew that one of the young Blumaroos was him. He was only a child when they received word that Sir Reynold, his father, had not survived the battle against Ramtor and his forces.

     Yet, the pain, the sorrow, the disbelief…it had been years since Sir Reynold’s demise, yet all those emotions were washing over him like they were new again.

     Rohane staggered and leaned against the wall, breathing hard and blinking. When he looked around, all he saw was Meepit Oaks, and not a sign of any of the ghosts he, Beatrix, and Dr Blair had talked about, or even a glimpse of the Trestin of long ago.

     Stopping in front of an office door with a blank nameplate, he pushed it open. Empty shelves, an empty desk, an empty chair.

     And then the shelves, the desk, and the chair were gone. Instead, the White Blumaroo was on the floor, his sword just out of each, an Elephante looming before him with billowing robes and a terrible glare.

     “You should never have come here,” the Elephante bellowed, blue-white energy gathering and crackling all around him. He thrust his arms, and Rohane threw himself out of the way, colliding painfully with a wooden table and crumpling into a heap with it as the magic left ashen streaks on the stone. “Now, you will die here, with no family and no friends to mourn you!”

     An ice-cold claw closed around Rohane’s heart. If he died here…yes, it was true. He was on a small island in an unknown portion of the sea, with no one else except the Elephante wizard determined to destroy him, and the skeletons and the spectres that haunted the fortress.

     And if he died here, he would never finish what his father started…he would fail to avenge him…and Meridell would remain under Ramtor’s thrall…

     He realized he was breathing hard and shuddering, backed into a corner. Rohane shut his eyes, and when he opened them again, he was back in the office.

     “What’s happening?” Rohane wondered aloud as he stumbled back out into the hallway. Then he remembered what Beatrix and Dr Blair had said about the ghosts in this wing of Meepit Oaks.

     Ramtor leered horribly and pointed his staff at Rohane. Off to one side, Mipsy was still recovering from a magical blast that had singed the hem of her robe.

     “You’re Reynold’s son? Very well, you will die like him!”

     “You will die like him.”

     Ghosts began melting out of the walls and doors, ghosts of Neopians in various stages of grief and hurt and regret. They reached out for Rohane, whose first instinct was to swipe at them with his sword, but the steel passed through their transparent bodies easier than a knife through butter. His hands gripping his sword hilt were trembling, and he could feel the weight of so many painful memories crashing down onto him, like they were fresh and new and wanted to bury him.

     “You will die like him,” a Kiko spirit whispered hoarsely.

     “You won’t leave here alive,” added an Acara ghost who reminded Rohane uncomfortably of Mipsy.

     After another unsuccessful slash through a Uni ghost who charged at him while cackling like mad, the White Blumaroo was forced to back away and run as the ghosts of his past threatened to engulf him.

     * * *

     ”Mama and Papa are not coming back,” the Grey Kacheek said bleakly, sitting forlornly in a corner next to the ratty old armchair that had been patched over and over. “They said they would be back in three days after work. But it’s been a week, Bea.”

     The Skunk Zafara, who was only about twelve at the time, bent down and hugged the Kacheek tightly. “I know. They didn’t even write to us.”

     “What do we do now?”

     “We have to do something.” A Fire Zafara stood over them and crossed his arms across his chest. “Bea, Myrtle, we need to find food before we run out.”

     “But how?” Myrtle whined.

     “I know how,” Beatrix offered, curling a tuft of her head fur and grinning furtively. “If I can disguise myself…”

     The Fire Zafara shook his head. “No. No more of your tricks, Beatrix. They’re too dangerous. One day someone is going to catch you swindling another poor soul…”

     Beatrix stuck her tongue out mulishly. “They’re not poor. They won’t miss a few Neopoints. What about you, Segwin? Got any bright ideas? Are you gonna sing off-key on that street corner again?”

     “At least I won’t be tricking anyone,” Segwin objected. “And I’m not off-key! I just get nervous in front of crowds!”

     “If you let me handle this,” said the Skunk Zafara, “you won’t have to worry about crowds. You’ll only have to worry about taking care of Myrtle while I’m out.” She took a deep breath and smiled again. “At this rate, the Thieves’ Guild would love to have me, eh?”

     Beatrix shook her head as she leaned against a tree in the courtyard of the Meepit Oaks Sanitorium, watching the back door of the North Wing.

     “That’s done,” she said to herself. “That’s done, the Thieves’ Guild is also done, I’m here now, waiting for Rohane to come out of Meepit Oaks alive.” The Skunk Zafara watched as a little Kougra in a hospital gown was wheeled out into the open by a Grarrl nurse, and the Grarrl positioned the wheelchair in a place where the Kougra could see the flowers that bloomed in the unnatural Haunted Woods sun.

     “It’s…it’s all done,” Beatrix whispered, clutching her heart. “They’re just ghosts.”

     But she couldn’t stop thinking about Myrtle, or Segwin, or the last time she saw them. Neither could she stop thinking about how Rohane was all alone in the North Wing with the ghosts.

     And they’re still there. With him.

     She gritted her teeth and hurried away from Meepit Oaks.

     * * *

     Rohane skidded on the tiles as he rounded a corner into a new corridor and tried to figure out what he could do. Obviously, simply hitting the ghosts was out of the question. But how could they be defeated?

     I know they get into my mind. They get into the worst corners of my mind. Beatrix told me not to let them inside…but that’s too late. He let out a nervous laugh. So how do I get them out of my head?

     Then he gasped as he fell to the floor. Beneath his knees, he could have sworn he felt wet grass, and within himself, he felt the hum of adrenaline which reminded him instantly of the time he and Reuben nearly fell out of a tree during a rainstorm.

     Gritting his teeth, he covered his hands over his ears.

     “I won’t let you in!”

     You won’t? A voice he didn’t recognize answered back, echoing throughout the halls. After you invited us in the first time? Pity.

     The Uni ghost was the first to reach him and stabbed him in the arm with its horn. Memories of that rainy day flooded back when the ghost touched him, and pain arced all the way up to his shoulder as he screamed. The Kiko ghost bounced toward him, unfazed by a sword thrust through its body.

     So much pain. So much suffering. Just like us!

     Before the Blumaroo could figure out what to do next – short of calling Beatrix for help – the spirits melted away from him, oozing across the floor and fusing with each other. The ghosts melded with each other until they were a single large Blumaroo-shaped ghost, its head brushing up against the ceiling. It raised one hand and swiped at Rohane, flinging him against the wall. As he slowly got back onto his feet, the ghost was already lumbering toward him again, its footsteps causing the floor to rumble and shake.

     We won’t stop until you have felt all our suffering!

     The ghost threw a hard right. Rohane wasn’t fast enough and was sent sprawling. As he fell, he saw his mother sobbing, saw the horrible claws of Kolvars reaching for him, and saw himself unconscious, drifting in darkness after taking a magic blast from Anubits for his friends. Each thought, each memory, weighed him down and made it more difficult to stand up.

     Belatedly he noticed that his eyes were filling with tears.

     Don’t let them into your mind. Don’t let them see your weakness…

     He crawled frantically away as the ghost chased him, howling cries that chilled him to the bone. He could see himself in his mind wandering the abandoned mine north of Trestin, alone and afraid. He remembered how he had barely made it from Zombom’s tower alive, how he found out that many of his father’s friends and allies had given their lives to free Meridell…

     The White Blumaroo sniffed and tried to wipe the tears from his face. At least no one was here to see him cry, down on his knees and gripping his sword nervously, waiting for the ghost’s next move.

     “Rohane! Rohane!”

     A new voice echoed through the corridor, followed by a blast of yellow fire blazing onto the ghost’s legs and several well-placed arrows – all of which, somehow, caused the ghost to emit an unholy shriek.

     “B…Beatrix?”

     “Get up!” the Skunk Zafara cried. “Whatever you’re feeling, it’s because of this place! It’s been haunted for years! It’s not you!”

     Rohane felt two pairs of arms pull him up and the familiar twinge of healing magic coursing through his body. But there was something else; power seemed to climb into his brain, making it easier for him to shelve the horrible memories that crowded out everything else.

     “Feeling better?” Velm asked, grinning. “I figured out how to weave a little mind protection into my usual spells. That should keep the voices out of our heads for a while. So, stop crying.”

     “I…I wasn’t crying!”

     “It’s okay,” Talinia assured him as Beatrix distracted the ghost and Mipsy continued firing blasts of multicoloured flame. “Beatrix told us what the ghosts do. And…when all of us got inside the North Wing…”

     “We’ll talk later! I’ve got a bone to pick with this guy! Celestial Hammer!” Velm yelled, pointing with his staff, which emitted a jet of sparks into the ghost’s stomach.

     Beatrix let out a whoop as she thrust with her cutlass and danced away before the ghost could grab her. “Well, what are you waiting for? Quit moping and give us a hand!”

     Rohane’s sword grip tensed. He scowled briefly when he remembered that just moments ago, he had teared up over things that had happened in the past, felt the pain of those events as acutely as if they had just happened.

     I allowed myself to become weak…

     The Blumaroo-shaped ghost howled. Rohane stood his ground and braced himself in a fighting stance. If his friends and his mentor could inflict pain…surely, now, his sword would finally be of use.

     No. It’s not a weakness. Father said there was nothing wrong with feeling afraid. It was far worse when you weren’t. And each battle, each obstacle -

     “Do the honours, just like we planned,” said Beatrix.

     “We’ve got your back. Like always,” Talinia added, nocking an arrow to her bow.

     “Why don’t you just shut up?” Rohane yelled at the ghost as he drew back and slashed it across its middle. Dimly he was aware that even though the whispers of his past were still echoing in his mind, they were more like old scars than new wounds. Whether that was from being able to push back against the spirits of Meepit Oaks, or from Velm’s protection spells, or both, Rohane found that he could think clearly again, as he whittled down the hulking spirit back to its remnants, which screamed and shrieked and either fled or disappeared.

     How? Why? they wailed. You’re supposed to be like us! Full of pain and fear and grief!

     No! Because those are what made me stronger!

     Eventually, all that remained of the task was five Neopians standing around in the North Wing, surrounding feeble wisps that were all that was left of the spirits haunting Meepit Oaks. Rohane sighed with relief and weariness, falling to his knees and letting his sword drop. He braced his hands on his knees and lowered his head, willing himself not to cry again.

     “You did it!” Mipsy cheered, pumping her wand into the air. “You got rid of the ghosts!”

     “No,” Rohane whispered. “We did it. And…thank you. For helping me.”

     “Normally I would be giving Beatrix an earful for sending you into this place,” said Velm, jerking a thumb at Beatrix, who looked quite contrite. “But she did call us.”

     “I’m sorry I sent you to deal with the ghosts – or ghost – all by yourself,” the Skunk Zafara blurted out. She sat in front of the White Blumaroo and placed her hands on his shoulders, which were still shaking slightly. “If you’re mad at me, I completely understand. Anyway, I don’t have anything left to teach you. If you could face that monster, then, I’m sure you can face anything.”

     Rohane stared at her at first. Then he slowly stood up, picked up his sword, and slid it back into its scabbard. The look in his eyes was dark and brooding, as though a ghost remained within him.

     “I just…I think…I need a walk.” Without another word, he turned away and headed for the North Wing entrance. Mipsy started after him, but Talinia shook her head and held her back gently.

     “Just come back to us when you’re done, all right?” the green Eyrie called.

     “I can’t thank all of you enough for dispatching the remnants of Meepit Oaks’ checkered past.”

     All four of them jumped at the sound of the wispy voice, which belonged to a Ghost Ixi in a lab coat standing behind them with a serene smile.

     “Dr Blair!” Beatrix exclaimed. Then she squinted. “Hang on, you look a little…”

     “Pale?” The Ixi chuckled faintly. “Well…I must apologize, ma’am, for I haven’t been very honest with you.”

     “What…what do you mean?”

     “When you defeated the ghosts that were still haunting Meepit Oaks, you released the horrors that continued to haunt it. And one of those horrors happens to be me.”

     “What?”

     “What’s going on?” Talinia asked.

     “I’ll explain later,” Beatrix answered. “Dr Blair, what are you talking about?”

     Dr. Blair merely smiled more widely. “I haven’t been a very good doctor in those old days, but perhaps, now I can find some rest. I don’t know when we’ll meet again, or whether I’ll be able to meet your friends properly, but…thank you, everyone, for freeing me.”

     With a wave of his hand, the Ghost Ixi vanished completely. A trace of his smile lingered after he was gone.

     * * *

     Lost in his thoughts – and he had riffled through them to make sure he was in complete control over all of them – Rohane walked into a Neovian park. Perhaps in the normal darkness of the Haunted Woods, it would be more foreboding, but today, it was friendlier, notwithstanding the gnarled trees and the grotesque benches. He sat down on one of these benches, taking deep breaths, clasping his hands on his knees, and trying to both forget and remember his encounter in Meepit Oaks.

     His heart ached, but it was a dull ache that would no doubt be gone by the time he returned to his friends. He wondered if the crying – no, it was the work of the spirits – had helped.

     “There you are. Listen, I really am sorry. About what I put you through.”

     Rohane looked up. Beatrix stood in front of him, the usual impish light in her eyes dimmed. She glanced away briefly and ran a hand through her tousled mane.

     “Dr Blair turned out to be one of those ghosts who needed to be taken care of at Meepit Oaks. He didn’t tell us that part,” the Skunk Zafara said, tugging at her sleeves. “He wasn’t the only one who wasn’t entirely honest. I’ve tried to enter the North Wing myself, to handle this task on my own. But each time…” She grimaced and took a step as though she wanted to sit next to Rohane but decided against it. “Each time, I couldn’t do it. Each time, I heard my brother and sister crying for me. I saw my parents leave and forget about us. I saw the way I joined the Thieves’ Guild, and the way I left it. I heard a lot of Neopians crying in my memories, saw the folks I couldn’t save…”

     She sniffed and fingered her cutlass hilt, managing a weak smile.

     “So, instead of trying again, I foisted this on you. Because I couldn’t face it myself. Hah, the first time you met me, I was pinning a pickpocket on a table. But the truth is, ol’ Beatrix Halliday is a coward who knows how to use the right Neopians for the job. Right, you can yell at me now.”

     Rohane did not yell.

     “Maybe you do use others to do your dirty work. Maybe you tried to run away from Meepit Oaks. But I’m not going to yell at you. For one thing, I’m too tired to yell.”

     Beatrix chuckled awkwardly. “I can’t say I don’t appreciate that.”

     “But I think it wasn’t just me who learned something from this. I think you did, too.”

     “What do you think I learned, then?”

     “That there are some things you can’t do alone. No matter how good of a fighter you are.”

To be continued…