The Mountainous Mess on Kat's Desk

[Kat]

YOU KIDS GET OFF MY WRITING DESK

Okay, so, with current events and my return to the Neopian Times slugging me in the face with a hefty dose of inspiration, I decided to make a thread with both NT and non-NT writing. I'll probably post non-Neopets fanfics and poetry here too but it'll mostly be NT and original stuff. I have some ideas I talked about (like that Philippine mythology meets magical girls idea, and maybe somewhat spoopy tales from our legal aid office) that I really want to put on paper.

I'm going to start this thread off with one of the stories in my NQII saga: Another Hero's Journey: Fatherhood. In Twice Upon a Christmas, I introduced Reuben and Andrea's son, Darel, but then that got me thinking about how Reuben must have felt when he learned that he was going to be a father, especially considering that he lost his own father at an early age. No doubt he would have a lot of questions and doubt in his mind, and thus, this story was born. I say this is part of my NQIIverse but there's barely any mention of anything NQII in it except of course gentle reminders about the Meridell arc and Rohane being Reuben's younger brother. And the mention of Rohane being knighted as a marker where this story will fall in the timeline.

This story was one of my pieces that got TMGE'd but after going back through it, I decided to add that by this time, Reuben and Andrea are already married. Without actually saying that, of course. I'm definitely going to be resubmitting this chunky short story, well, after Aesop gets back to me on A Hero's Journey...with a Princess. So, without further ado -

SPOILER: Click to show

“Can I remove my blindfold now?” Andrea asked. The short green Kacheek and the burly brown Lupe on either side of her traded a look with the white Kyrii in the middle of the room. The white Kyrii nodded and gave them a thumbs-up with one hand; in the other, he clutched a broom.

“Go ahead,” Devin, the Kacheek, urged her as he grinned from ear to ear. The red Kyrii reached up to pull the large kerchief away from her eyes, and gasped.

She had never seen this room so beautifully furnished and organized. The closet and cupboards, as well as the table and toy chest under the window, were polished and clean. Though the cradle was devoid of bedding, blankets and pillows, it had been repainted in sky blue and cream. The rocking chair near the cradle was new, as was the model Whinny next to the toy chest. The walls were wallpapered in a serene periwinkle, and here and there were other items that completed the room – a lamp, a chest of drawers painted in Meridell colors, a small scarlet cushion in the rocking chair. The floor, of course, was free of dust and grime.

For several moments she just took it all in, not even missing the white Kyrii ducking out of the room swiftly to put the broom away. She sniffed, and beamed, holding back tears.

“Oh…everything’s so beautiful. Did you all fix this up? I’m…it all looks so good…”

“Yeah, we all pitched in,” said Devin. “Omar and I painted the cradle and checked if there were any splinters.” He gestured to the brown Lupe.

“Miss Melissa sure knows how to store things. That cradle is still in pretty good condition, aside from needing a new paint job.”

The white Kyrii strode back into the room. “We also folded up the old sheets, blankets and pillows for the cradle! They’re in the closet!” He opened the closet door wide to reveal the items in question, along with some old baby-sized clothes that remained in good condition.

“I wish you would organize your room that way, too, Ben,” Andrea commented. She, Devin and Omar chuckled.

“I-I’ll work on it! Look, at least I can still find whatever I need in there!”

“For now,” said Omar, grinning.

“Wait.” The red Kyrii’s smile faded. “What about Reuben? Wasn’t he with you?”

Devin nodded. “Mmm, yeah, he helped move all the stuff up here. But then he had to go back downstairs, he said he’ll see if he has any old toys he can place in that chest. He hasn’t seen this room finished yet though.”

“Well, he has to see it too,” said Andrea, her smile returning. “After all, he’s going to be a father soon.”

* * *

Reuben held an old wooden sword in one hand, and an equally ancient toy shield in the other. He stared at them for a long time before slowly returning them to the open chest in front of him, which contained not only toys from his youth but also other things like ratty notepads and unstrung bows that had seen better days. But he had managed to collect a few toys that were now on his desk – plushies that only needed some stitching, wooden Meridellian soldiers that could still be spruced up, and a rattle that miraculously remained in one piece.

The white Blumaroo returned the sword and the shield to the chest and shut the lid decisively with a sigh. At that moment, Andrea walked into his bedroom.

“Reuben, they’re done with the baby’s room. Do you want to see it?”

He turned around to look at her – her warm smile, her neatly combed mane, her single turquoise drop earring. But he didn’t smile back, and just shrugged.

“Oh…um, in a while.”

“Are those the toys you’ll be giving him?” She tilted her head at the toys on the desk.

“They’re a start,” said Reuben. “I should buy new toys, too…or try to make some. Carve out a few figures and things from some wood in the smithy. I haven’t really tried…”

She approached him and reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. His eyes were drawn briefly to the gold band on one of her fingers reflecting the late afternoon light from a window.

“I think you’ll do a great job.”

There was a faint hint of a smile on his lips, but it was gone just as quickly. “Thanks, Andrea.”

“Reuben…is there anything wrong?” The red Kyrii’s brow furrowed slightly. “Are you all right?”

“I’m all right. I’m just…thinking about how we’ll be parents. How we’ll have a son. Time really flies, doesn’t it?”

“Mmm, it’s a lot to take in. Even I can’t believe it sometimes,” said Andrea, patting his shoulder gently.

He rubbed the back of his head. “Hey…Andrea, I’ll look at the baby’s room later. I’m…looking for something.”

“Do you need any help looking for it?”

“No, it’s all right,” the Blumaroo replied. He managed a short laugh. “Some parts of my room are much messier than they look.”

Andrea shook her head in mock exasperation before taking her leave. “You’re just like Ben. Devin, Omar and Ben took me away from organizing my books to show me the baby’s room, so I’m going back to that for a while. If you need help looking for whatever it is you lost, you know you can always ask me.”

Reuben just nodded and raised his hand in a brief wave as Andrea left his room and left him alone with his thoughts again. He looked at the toys on his desk, especially the plushies with their faded eyes and dusty, worn, patchwork fur. Picking up a woebegone Babaa plushie, he absently cradled it in his arms, and stared into its lifeless beady eyes before glancing at the chest where he had stored his toy sword and shield, which felt like relics from a distant past.

The past when he had a father and wasn’t thinking of becoming one.

* * *

“Reuben?”

The female white Blumaroo had grey curls and faint lines tracing her serene face, but she was still alert enough to look up from where she was perusing a journal with yellowing, brittle pages while seated on her bed. She smiled at the sight of her son. “What is it, dear?” Automatically she moved aside and patted the spot next to her with a free hand.

Reuben dithered in the doorway before approaching and sitting beside her. He peered at the journal she was reading, and his voice caught in his throat when he saw the two different styles of handwriting – one neater than the other – that covered one page, and an old child’s drawing of four Blumaroos in front of a house, two tall and two short, with a couple of trees and a sun in the sky pasted onto the other page.

“That’s the journal you and Father kept years ago,” he noted.

Melissa’s smile became more wistful. “Yes, it is. It has been years, but sometimes, I like to look back, on those times…” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t have to specify what “times” those were. Reuben placed an arm around her shoulders as she closed the journal carefully, with an almost reverent air, and set it on her other side, on top of her pillow. “Now, did you have something to tell me?”

The ghost of a grin crossed Reuben’s face before he clasped his hands together and placed them on his knee, staring at them silently, especially at the gold ring on one of his fingers.

“Mother…this is going to sound weird, but…” He paused, frowning in thought. “Becoming a father…I was excited, Andrea was excited too, but now that we’re preparing for it, I feel scared, too. When I get excited, it’s like there’s this…fear, or dread, beneath it all. I’m afraid I won’t be a good dad. I’m afraid I won’t be able to teach my son right, or that we won’t get along, or that he’ll be difficult and I won’t know how to deal with him…and I’m only realizing these things now.” The younger white Blumaroo winced as though the words left a bad taste in his mouth and massaged his temples.

“Did you talk to Andrea about it?” Melissa asked gently.

He shook his head. “She’s excited, and she doesn’t seem afraid, at all. I don’t know how to tell her…or if I even should. I can’t bear to ruin her mood.”

“Why don’t you think you’ll be a good father?” Her tone was soft, neither demanding nor urgent; it was infused with just enough concern. The concern too, was etched on her face.

“I feel like…do I have to read up on this? Take a class or something? But being a father isn’t like being a weapon smith or being a warrior, which you can just…learn.” Reuben gestured aimlessly, his hand in the air. “I know that I will be teaching my son, taking care of him, raising him so he grows up right, and when I think about all that, it feels like it’s not enough. And, since Father died years ago, trying to save Meridell from Ramtor, I can’t exactly ask him for help.”

Reuben buried his face in his hands. “I’m so afraid, Mother. I never realized how afraid I was until today, while I was looking for toys I had in storage. I don’t even know what my son would be like. It might be easy if he were more like me or Andrea, but there’s no way of knowing, is there?”

“No,” was Melissa’s simple answer to a rhetorical question. “Reynold and I actually didn’t know if you and your brother would be interested in learning about what it took to become knights. He was just pleasantly surprised to find out that the two of you shared that dream…”

“But he never found out that our dreams…” Reuben shrugged. “I don’t think he could’ve ever imagined how our dreams turned out. I got into making swords and bows, and after completing Father’s unfinished business, Rohane went on these crazy adventures that made him even more famous than Father ever was. Although, to be fair, he wound up being knighted for all his heroics.” He sighed. “I really wish I had Father here to ask about being a father. And even if I remember everything he did for us, what about the future? Father never saw me and Rohane grow up, so how am I supposed to deal with my son as he grows up and starts thinking of his dreams and the decisions he’ll make?” Reuben shook his head ruefully.

Melissa reached out and placed a gentle hand on Reuben’s knee. It was both a gesture of reassurance and a gesture for him to allow her to speak.

“Reuben, it’s normal to be afraid. To have all these uncertainties, simply because they really are uncertain. Reynold and I were also afraid we wouldn’t be good parents, but the only way to truly find out is to go ahead and, well, be parents, as best we could, and give you and your brother whatever we could.” She chuckled softly, and reached out for the journal, thumbing through the pages until she reached two that were covered in her writing and Reynold’s, near the beginning. “Here, why don’t you read this part?”

Reuben did as he was told, gingerly taking the journal into his hands and scanning the neat and gentle script of his mother alternating with the bolder strokes of his father’s handwriting – even though it felt more like he was peering into hidden secrets that were never meant for prying eyes than reading what his parents had written many years ago.

Melissa, Reuben is so small and so beautiful. I’m so proud of him, so proud of us, but I’m afraid of holding him.

You won’t drop him, if that’s what you’re thinking. I have complete faith in you. Besides, haven’t you carried babies and children before? When you were evacuating villages during the Meridell vs. Darigan war, and then during the Battle for Meridell.

Reuben is different. He’s ours, and I’ll be carrying him every day. One day I’ll be teaching him how to walk, how to play games, how to take care of himself. And I’m afraid I might forget to teach him something really important.

That’s why we’re doing this together, right? Whatever you forget, I am sure to remember to teach him. But really, you don’t have to worry about that. I don’t think you’ll forget anything.

Aren’t you afraid, Melissa?

I’m scared, deep inside. But I’m also very, very happy for the three of us. And I’ll do everything I can to be the best mother I can be for Reuben.

Maybe, if I focus on being the best father I can be, I’ll forget about being scared. There’s one thing I’m sure of, though. When the day comes that Reuben becomes a father himself, I want to be there for him because I know he’ll be just as scared as I was. I don’t know yet what to say to him then, but I have a long, long time to learn.

The best time to learn is now, Reynold. So when he wakes up, you’ll be in charge of rocking him to sleep.

The male white Blumaroo stifled a laugh as he slowly shut the journal. “You and Father wrote all that?”

“Sometimes, we like writing instead of just talking to each other. That’s why we started this journal. And honestly, your father found it comforting to write down his fears, and everything else he felt. Isn’t that what Andrea tells you to do, sometimes?”

“That’s why she made me start keeping a journal.” Reuben nodded. Then he sighed again – a sigh of longing. “Now I really wish Father were still with us. I’d feel a lot better if he were with me to tell me all about what being a father is like.” He offered the journal to Melissa, but she raised a hand to stop him.

“Read it. Reynold may not be here anymore, but his words still are. And remember…he and I were just as scared as you were, but you and Rohane grew up just fine.” There was a twinkle in her eyes as Melissa added that part, and she patted Reuben’s head, like she used to when he was much younger. “Honestly, becoming a parent…you’re right that you simply can’t learn it apart from actually experiencing it for yourself. But the fact that you’re scared is already a good sign that you’ll be a very good father.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Melissa embraced her son loosely. “You’ll make your father proud.”

* * *

Reuben was exiting Melissa’s room when he saw Andrea setting the table for an early dinner. Devin, Omar and Ben were in the kitchen, and he could hear them arguing over who had misplaced the mixing bowl amidst the opening and closing of cupboards and drawers.

The red Kyrii looked up after the plates had been set in their places.

“Oh, Reuben, what’s that in your hands?”

At first, he hesitated, clutching the journal to his chest, but he eventually asked, “Andrea? Are you busy? There’s something…I need to talk to you about.”

She inclined her head toward the direction of the kitchen, where they could clearly hear Omar yell, “We’re not having mashed potatoes again!” Her lips curled into an amused smile.

“I think we can leave them for a few minutes. What did you want to talk to me about?”

* * *

Outside, the sky was a splash of blue and red, with patches of clouds here and there. Very few villagers were outside; an Elephante walking a Puppyblew on the opposite side of the path, a couple of Pterii picking apples from a nearby tree, and a Flotsam closing his fruit shop for the day. A cool wind blew in from the north and spun stray dry leaves into the air until they fluttered almost tiredly back onto the ground.

Reuben glanced down at his parents’ journal, etched with both their names, before turning his attention toward Andrea, whose hands were tucked into her skirt pockets. She looked at him expectantly, with eyes the same shade of light blue as the drop dangling from one of her ears.

He took a deep breath. “Andrea…I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” the red Kyrii asked, her forehead creasing in worry.

“Of being a father,” said Reuben. “I’m afraid of messing it up. Father died when Rohane and I were only kids, so I don’t have him to ask for advice, especially when our son grows up. I know what a good father should do and all, but…I’m afraid of forgetting something that might be important…”

The words kept coming and would have kept on coming if Andrea hadn’t held up a hand for the white Blumaroo to stop.

“Oh, Reuben…” She sighed, placing both hands on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “I’m excited, but I’m also afraid…”

Andrea smiled, and chuckled. “Me too,” she whispered. “I’m excited and afraid. I feel like I know what to do and at the same time, I don’t know anything at all about becoming a mom.”

“That’s…yeah, that’s exactly how I feel, too,” said Reuben, his shoulders relaxing under Andrea’s grasp. “I talked to Mother about it. And I feel less afraid. A little less afraid. Especially…now that I know I’m not the only one. But why didn’t you tell me?”

“I guess I was embarrassed to say I was scared after getting so excited.”

It was Reuben’s turn to laugh. “You don’t have to be embarrassed. We’re in the same boat now.”

“What did your mother tell you?”

The Blumaroo opened the journal to the pages Melissa had indicated for him previously. “She and my father were scared too. But it all worked out in the end. They kept this journal and wrote all their thoughts about being parents in it. She gave it to me to read. Father may be gone, but I can still find his advice from their journal.”

“Wow,” whispered Andrea. “That’s…you know, I think this will be a big help. But more than that, I think you’ll be a big help too, Reuben. I’m glad we’re in this together.”

“Me too,” said Reuben, nodding. “Hey, after dinner, I want to see the baby’s room, okay? Hopefully the guys didn’t mess it up, but you didn’t have any complaints, so…”

“No, I promise they didn’t. More importantly…you said this was your parents’ journal, right?” There was a fleeting twinkle of curiosity in her eyes. “Does this mean there are embarrassing stories about you in it?”

Reuben’s eyes widened. Then he hurriedly snapped the journal shut before panicking briefly and wondering if he might have accidentally ruined the binding, or the pages, or the cover.

“…Let’s just go back inside before Devin, Omar and Ben ruin the kitchen.”

[Kat]

I uh, owe everyone a long post talking about my NT characters, including the canon characters I've butchered - uh, I mean, developed. Given backstories to. Something like that. But do you ever find yourself overflowing with a lot of feelings for these characters you've written for years before picking them back up again and remembering everything that you enjoyed about writing them? I have many of the Feels but it's been hard to put them down on paper, and it's hard to describe characters you've just been writing...as you go. Like, I'm not even sure if some of them were given proper weaknesses or flaws or if those just showed up while I was writing.

Might also post the first chapter of A Hero's Journey...with a Princess here if anyone is interested because aaaaaa giant chunky monster series that took over my life.

BUT FOR NOW, my poem, The Koi at kelp, was featured on page 2345 (cool, consecutive numbers!) of the Poetry Competition. I really like writing limericks and the rhyme scheme (AABBA) although my next submission won't be a bunch of limericks. I'll be shooting for Yurble Day next and since I've been playing a lot of Goparokko, we all know what's going to happen next.

Oh boy, this thread is going to be full of rambles about writing and the ideas that like to punch me in the face, innit. I'm so sorry.

I'LL ALSO POST SOMETHING ORIGINAL IN HERE...IN DUE TIME...

[Kat]

Well, whaddaya know, I AM posting something original here! This is a 495-word story entitled, Missing the Boat. It was written for Furious Fiction and had to comply with the following criteria:

- The first and last words must begin with J.
- The story must include a game being played.
- The story must include the phrase MISS/MISSED THE BOAT.

"Missed the boat" made me think of a Filipino seaman who missed his boat and what he believed was his opportunity for a better life, and this short story was born. The last J-word was supposed to be "jeepney" until I realized that "job" also started with a J.

SPOILER: Click to show

“Just missed the boat, huh.”

Manuel nodded from where he sat on an overturned fruit crate, regarding a woebegone chessboard with fading colors. He reached out for a rook that had not moved from its spot, before withdrawing his hand and inching a black pawn forward. On one side of them was a busy little eatery, on the other side was the street, and right behind them was a jeepney terminal with a small queue of people waiting for their rides and trying to shade themselves with umbrellas, hats, and even bags.

“It was supposed to be my first day as a seaman, Harry,” he told the other man, who was stroking the stubble on his chin while staring at the white pieces on the board. “But Lala suddenly started bleeding. She was six months pregnant with our third child and had to be taken to a hospital.”

“Isn’t there one near your house? On Rizal Street,” said Harry. His knight captured the pawn that Manuel had moved previously. He adjusted his battered baseball cap and scratched his ample belly.

“They wouldn’t accept us,” answered Manuel blearily as a flashy jeepney rolled past, leaving clouds of dust in its wake. “They said they didn’t have room. I had to bring her to St. Patrick’s. I just got both of us into a tricycle because I didn’t have enough money for anything else.”

Harry winced. “What about Jose and Anna?”

“Left them at home. But I had to go back and forth from Lala to them, just to see how they are doing. That’s how I missed my boat.” That statement was punctuated by a black bishop menacing the white knight that had taken the pawn, followed by a long sigh.

“Did you call the agency and say your wife had to be confined in the hospital?”

“They can’t deploy me until they find another placement for me,” grumbled Manuel. “But now, I have no job, and Lala’s hospital bills are starting to climb.” He buried his face in his large, callused hands. “I’ve been looking for work ever since, but I haven’t had any luck. Which is why…please, let me be a jeepney barker.”

His dark brown eyes flicked toward the line of people getting onto a vehicle painted with running horses. A man stood alongside them, gesturing for them to get on while shouting the destinations on a placard on the windshield: “Quiapo, Divisoria, Highway! There’s still space! Ten on each row!”

Harry hummed in thought. He looked up at the jeepney terminal.

“We don’t really need more – “

“Please, Harry! I need this job! I’ll start now, just tell your boss! I know all the routes!”

At first, Harry didn’t say anything, but he focused on Manuel – desperate, hands clasped together as though praying. Another jeepney rattled into the terminal for the next batch of customers, but the barker had already sat down to eat his lunch.
Finally, Harry nodded. “Take the job.”

[Kat]

SIGHS here we go again with the Neo stuff

Anyway, I wanted to join Neocreation week on Twitter (I'm still in the process of making a separate account for this; I probably shouldn't try to get a confirmation code sent to my phone when it's nighttime in the Philippines) but I can't draw for beans, so I'm going to write. And guess what?

I'm not just going to write.

I'm going to write a POEM.

One of the themes is making your own hero so I didn't have to look too far - which means this is a poem about Reuben. Yeah, yeah, he's not a hero per se but he has the spirit of one when he's called to step into those shoes.

SPOILER: Click to show

His name is Reuben, he's from Trestin,
Unlike his brother, he didn't go questing.
This white Blumaroo had a different calling
Which was not picking up a sword and strolling
Through the vast green hills of Meridell
And carving paths through its great dells.

His name is Reuben, he wears a brown cloak,
A shirt, vest and trousers, the simple bloke.
In his own way he holds his own in a fight,
In his own way he also defends what is right.
What did you expect from Rohane's older brother?
Just don't ask him which of them is stronger.

His name is Reuben, he fights with a knife,
And eleven more; with them he'll guard your life.
With daggers on his belt, in his sleeves and boots
He stands for his village against nasty brutes.
Some say he has a thirteenth knife in his belt,
If there are locks to pick, that would be much help.

His name is Reuben, he is also a hero,
A hero not many Neopians would know.
Adventure was not for him, so he stayed
Along with all the weapons he has made.
He took up swordsmithing and bow whittling
For him, weapon making was oddly fitting.

His name is Reuben, he stands unfazed
By the monsters in Meridell's forest maze.
He knows these parts like the back of his hand
With his many blades he makes his own stand
To protect his home while Rohane is away,
To protect it in his own way.

[Kat]

For this year's first OCtober prompt (Decision), I give you an original piece loosely (because I did only minor research) based on Philippine folklore and magic. This is a sneak peek into my novel idea about a magical girl who gains powers because her parents made a deal with the spirit world to have a child.

SPOILER: Click to show

Some people called Stella Estrella a witch, among other, less kind words. Her family and friends called her a witch, matter-of-factly or affectionately. But to the middle-aged couple sitting at her dining table, she was their last hope.

Stroking a black cat that had jumped up to rub itself against her shoulder, Stella faced her visitors with an unfathomable expression. A calico cat perched on a shelf, watching the scene with bright green eyes.

"The good news is that neither of you were cursed by another sorceress," she began, her voice combining the gentle tinkle of wind chimes and the authority of a great brass bell. "I found no traces of magic in your system, Natasha, and you, Juan, reported no strange illnesses."

"What's the bad news?" Natasha asked, her brow furrowing. Then she paused, traded a look with Juan, and her weathered face fell. "No..."

Stella sighed. "Just as science has its limits, so does my magic. You and Juan can never have children..."

"No!" Juan and Natasha cried, startling the black cat. It immediately sprung toward the shelf and beside the calico that barely stirred.

"You didn't let me finish," the sorceress pointed out, frowning. "I can't do anything for you, but the spirit world still can."

"What do you mean?" asked Juan, scratching his bald head. He clutched Natasha's hands tightly in his.

"The spirits can grant your wish. But as with everything, they demand a price." Stella immediately raised her hand to forestall any questions, comments or violent reactions from the couple. "No, no, it's not what you think. They can make it so you two will have a daughter. But on her thirteenth birthday, they will grant her powers from the supernatural realm, and from then until adulthood, she will be tasked to protect both the mortal and spirit worlds from the forces of evil."

Natasha repeated the word "powers" at the same time Juan blurted out, "The forces of evil?"

"Not monsters. Not all monsters are evil. Humans are capable of worse." Stella fingered a gold amulet around her neck. "This is non-negotiable. Either you have a daughter who will become a Mahika*, or you will not have a daughter at all."

"A Mahika?" asked Juan.

"That's what we call these protectors."

"And there's no getting out of it," said Natasha slowly.

"No. Even if you try to hide her on her thirteenth birthday, the spirits have their ways." Stella glanced around as though they could be watching them at any moment. "And they would hunt me down, if that happened."

Juan knuckled his temples and turned to his wife. "Natasha, what do you think?"

"This is all we have," was the desperate reply. "I know you want a child as much as I do. We've tried everything. All the doctors told us there's no way."

"But exposing our daughter to the spirit world? That sounds dangerous!"

"She can learn to protect herself - and you - with her powers," Stella pointed out.

"Can you teach her?" asked Natasha, leaning forward. Stella instinctively inched away, ever so slightly, but remained in her seat.

"I can try. But much of it she will discover on her own, and the spirits will be better guides than me." Another cat decided to leap up onto her lap - white and orange, kneading her skirts. She barely flinched and waited for the cat to curl up properly.

Juan and Natasha traded another look. Both of them sighed.

"All right," whispered Juan. "You are our last hope. Please, talk to the spirits for us."

_{*Mahika is the Tagalog word for magic.}

[Kat]

With the Cosmic NT issue out, I've decided to take a page from Ian Wolf-Park's book and post two excerpts from my now ongoing series, Brothers in Stars. These are two flashbacks from the latter parts of the series, but no spoilers.

SPOILER: Click to show

Night spread its dark mantle over the kingdom of Meridell and brought with it a sprinkling of stars like many jewels strewn across black silk. Even from the farthest corners of Meridell, the stars could be seen, twinkling their ethereal show for anyone who wished to watch.

Two young white Blumaroos stared out the window of a small house in the village of Trestin tucked within the northwestern mountain range, gazing up at the sky in awe, elbows parked on the sill.

“They’re so beautiful,” Reuben breathed reverently before pointing to a group of six stars arranged to look like a cross. “Look at that constellation, little bro. You see it? That’s the one for the hero you’re named for – Lord Rohane, the Pathfinder of Meridell.”

“That’s the one?” Rohane straightened up and leaned forward for a better look at the constellation. Reuben grabbed the back of his shirt to keep him from falling out the window and pulled him back. “Wow…are those stars supposed to be his arms?” He pointed to the row of three stars in the middle.

“Some say it’s supposed to be his magic sword, Guide. Never leaves home without it. Others say it’s supposed to be a Blumaroo, with those small stars beside them as his tail. Either works. Or both.”

“Is Dad in there now?”

Reuben chuckled and shook his head. “Nah, they’re probably in the Perseus Sector like they always are. It’s where he works, with all his friends, to keep outer space safe.”

“Dad calls them his ‘brothers in arms’. But they’re not really his brothers, right? Not like us.”

“Nope, not like us. That means they’re like brothers, but not real brothers. I mean, they knew each other for a long time. Longer than we’ve been alive.”

Rohane turned away from the sky to stare at his older brother. “That’s a very long time.”

“Yeah. That’s why they’re brothers in arms.”

“But what about us?”

“What d’you mean?”

“What kind of brothers are we? Besides…well, the real kind.”

The older Blumaroo grinned. “Us? Hmm…” Then he sat up and snapped his fingers. “I got it. We’re not brothers in arms, we’re brothers…in stars.”

“Brothers in stars?”

“Think about it. We love looking at the stars, and when we grow up, we want to work with dad at Perseus. Up there, with the stars. That’s us. And it sounds a little like brothers in arms.”

“I guess it does,” said Rohane, nodding slowly. A smile appeared on his face like the dawning sun. “I like it! We’re brothers in stars!”

“We are.” Reuben clasped his little brother’s hand in his tightly. “And we’ll always be brothers in stars.”

There's absolutely no reason for me to include this second flashback but the mental image was so tempting, I couldn't pass it up. Two words: driving lessons.

SPOILER: Click to show

”Are you sure about this, Reuben?”

“Come on. If you have any hope of becoming commander, you have to learn to steer a starship.” The older white Blumaroo patted the empty seat beside him – the pilot’s seat – and grinned, tossing a pen with his free hand while he clutched a clipboard in his other hand.

Rohane shuddered, gaping at the pilot’s seat as though a monster would suddenly rear up from the upholstery and devour him. “I don’t know…wait, you said this was still only a simulation, right?”

“I rigged the ship with a program that will simulate a flight path from here to the Auriga Sector,” said Reuben confidently, puffing out his chest. “The nearest sector, the smoothest route. And I’ll be beside you all the way.”

“Wait, is that even allowed? Messing with the ship’s programs?”

“Let’s just say I got a little permission from Dad.” Reuben winked. “Uh, while he was reviewing some important paperwork. Well, what are you waiting for? You’re not going to learn how to steer standing there.”

“Fine. All right.” Steeling himself, Rohane cautiously climbed into the cockpit and onto the pilot’s seat, fastening his seatbelt and looking around nervously. Below them were the other ships and rockets of the Perseus Sector. No one else was around, and he reached out to turn the ignition key to start up the ship. At the sound of the engine being activated, he jumped, but managed to remember what to do next with the controls.

As he pressed the pedal below the control panel and clutched the wheel, the ship began to glide down its path toward the exit portal of the hangar.

“Wait.” Rohane’s jaw dropped as he hurriedly pulled a lever to navigate a corner in the covered passage. “This doesn’t feel like a simulation! Reuben!” He yelled as the portion of the wall before them opened to admit them into the exit bay.

But while Rohane was yelling, Reuben was laughing uproariously, punching the air with his fist.

“You lied to me, Reuben!”

“Did I? I never said it was still a simulation.” He winked as the exit bay opened to a view of the stars. “I just said I charted an easy path to Auriga, which I did.”

“But…” Rohane screamed as the ship was launched from the runway and into space. His scream died in his throat when he felt a solid hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, I didn’t lie when I said I would be with you. You can do this. I believe in you.”

[Kat]

Prompt 2 for OCtober: Comfort. Something totally random. I had this idea a long time ago about a buddy cop story with a tikbalang detective and his human assistant, so that's probably where I yanked THIS idea out.

SPOILER: Click to show

"Ouch!"

Eduardo groaned as he sat up from the grass, rubbing his back. As he glanced over his shoulder, he noticed the offending stones in his spot and brushed them away. Beside him was a tikbalang - with a horse's upper half, and a human's lower half. He, on the other hand, was lying contentedly with his arms behind his head, gazing up at the night sky.

"I don't understand how you can sleep on the grass like this," Eduardo grumbled as he drew his knees up to his chest.

"You get used to it," the tikbalang replied, shrugging. "That's also your fault for not looking before lying down."

"Thanks a lot."

"You can always lug your sleeping bag out of the tent and lie down on it. I won't judge."

"Yeah, I never thought of that."

"That's because you're a spoiled city boy, Ed."

"Didn't you say you weren't going to judge?"

[Kat]

*chugs Motivation juice*

Decided to skip to Prompt 16 (Borrow). This idea came from nowhere, I just like to write more of Reuben, my most beloved and possibly most enduring Neopian Times character, kicking some butt. So without further ado...

SPOILER: Click to show

The brown Wocky looked around in the shop before slyly sliding a sheathed dagger with a crystal hilt into the crook of his arm and under his vest. He was the only one in this aisle full of many other daggers, but he decided not to push his luck further and started making his way toward the front door. Keeping his head low, he avoided all eye contact from the other customers nearby.

But as he was a few steps away from escape, a voice rang throughout the shop.

"Hey everyone. I'm running a little raffle contest." A white Blumaroo stood up from the counter at the back and held up a jar full of chips engraved with various numbers. After shaking the jar loudly, he passed it to his companion, a beautiful red Kyrii. "Get your numbers from Andrea, you might win a free hunting knife!"

Immediately everyone else swarmed around Andrea to get their chips. As they did, the Wocky hurried for the door - only to freeze at the sound and sight of a thrown dagger embedded in the wall, inches away from his neck. He turned slowly and saw the white Blumaroo, who had left the counter and was now holding two more daggers in his hands, one poised for a second throw. Andrea and the others looked up sharply at what was going on, safe from the crossfire.

"Sorry, we don't do lends," said Reuben, smirking. "Hand it over, or my next throw won't miss."

[Kat]

I'm writing a new series and considering the NT's current track record of publishing new series outside collab and special issues, it may be a while before I submit it. A Hero's Journey: Squire takes place years along my story timeline and the "squire" in question is Cathton Wincott, the son of a very wealthy and very corrupt noble family, who conceals his lineage after escaping his home. (Although, you can't really call it a home if you wanted to escape from it.) He takes on a new name - "Cavall" - and learns to come to terms with his identity and his potential.

Yes, Lotham and Elesia Wincott, Cathton/Cavall's parents, are partly inspired by Mother Gothel from Tangled. Much like her, they kept their son isolated from the outside world for fear that he would be used as a pawn to acquire their massive fortune. While inside, Cathton is taught accounting at an early age to prepare him to safeguard his family's riches.

This is my way of reviving this thread oops.

SPOILER: Click to show

“Cathton, it’s time for your math lessons. Put down that book.”

Cathton frowned but did as he was told. After inserting a bookmark into its pages, he slid a book entitled One Hundred and One Favorite Meridell Folktales back into the shelf and stood up from his armchair. The blue Cybunny couldn’t help but gaze longingly at the view outside his window; it was a beautiful sunny day, with Beekadoodles calling to each other in the trees and the summer flowers in full bloom.

“But I was reading about Cavall and the Order of the Crokabek,” he couldn’t help but complain to the female royal Cybunny who gestured for him to follow her. “Besides, didn’t we have math after breakfast?”

Lady Elesia Wincott shook her head imperiously. “Of course we did. But that was basic math, which all children must learn. Today, you’ll begin your accounting lessons.”

“Accounting? I thought that was something only Father did, counting his money and writing it all down.” Cathton lowered his head as they passed through a long hallway filled with numerous portraits of noble Neopians dressed in varying degrees of elegance and splendor. It always felt like they were all watching him, various generations and branches of Wincotts watching his every move.

“Yes, but you’ll grow up to be like your father one day, won’t you?” said Elesia, stopping at a door with a brass knocker shaped like a Cyodrake. She lifted its claw and knocked three times. “That’s why you have to learn. When he and I are gone, you will inherit the Wincott fortune, and you must learn how to guard it – our life’s hard work.”

Cathton gave her a skeptical look, but quickly straightened his posture when the door before them opened to reveal a male royal Usul, tall and imposing. The young Cybunny tried to meet his eyes and failed; there was always something in his father’s eyes that made him want to shrink and run because they seemed to see right through him.

“There you are, Cathton,” he said gruffly before sweeping an arm into his study. The purple velvet curtains were drawn over the window on the left wall, the entire right wall was a cluster of shelves that held both books and various knickknacks, and several broadswords were mounted on the wall behind the large mahogany desk. “Come in. From now on, you’ll be learning math in the morning, and accounting in the afternoon.” Lord Lotham Wincott saw his son’s face fall but paid it no heed. “You need to know these things. There are terrible people out there who just want to steal from us, to cheat us from our hard work, like Meridell’s tax collectors.”

“But Father, I read in a book that tax collectors just take enough money for the kingdom. For its crops, for its army, for – “

Lotham snorted. “Just because they should, doesn’t mean they do.” He traded a look with his wife and shook his head before crossing his study to pull a smaller polished table with Kazeriu patterns engraved into the legs toward his desk. Elesia followed him to select a comfortable chair for the table. “The world is cruel. It only wants to use you to take our fortune or destroy our family.”

The Usul began to select several leather-bound books from the shelf before facing Cathton gravely. Elesia ushered their son into his seat at the little table.

“You’re our only heir,” added Lotham. “We don’t want anything to happen to you.”

[Kat]

What up, it's ya girl again (obviously). With the series cap in the NT, it may be a while before this story sees publication but I thought I'd put up the first chapter for anyone interested. This is the sequel to A Hero's Journey: Rivalry, entitled A Hero's Journey: It Takes Two. The rivalry that blazed to life between Jeran and Rohane in AHJ: Rivalry is far from over - they've got a long way to go, and they've just taken the first few steps in learning to get along with each other. A mission to find a lost noble child might just be their opportunity to learn to work as a team with no one else to break up their squabbles, and this can either go really well or go absolutely sideways.

Or y'know, I can find whatever next collab issue there is and shoehorn the series in as my entry.

Rambling about this chapter that literally no one asked for: Considering that in canon, Jeran and Rohane filled leadership roles, I thought it wouldn't be far-fetched to assume sparks would fly between them when discussing strategy and tactics. Jeran most likely picked up much of his knowledge from organized, planned battles and from having fought in wars, while Rohane is more likely to improvise and pick up things along the way, and though you could say he fought in a war (the war against Terask), he didn't do so as a rank-and-file soldier. So you have them bickering over friendly war games. I rather like the idea that several Neopian lands like to do friendly war games, like MD vs. BV here.

I also like the idea that Mipsy, Talinia and Velm remain permanent fixtures in Rohane's life even after they've parted ways to do their own thing, but it would be fun to write a "one last ride" type of story wherein they go on an adventure together knowing it'll be their last and they'll have to go their separate ways for good. It sounds like a good way to write finis to my NT career but at this rate, and knowing my track record, we don't know yet when finis will be. So I'll probably write it as a timeskip story or something.

Anyway, I dunno if I'll post the next chapter after this. Maybe I will, since it ends on a bit of a cliffhanger.

SPOILER: Click to show

Chapter 1: The Room Where It Happens

The war room of Meridell Castle was full of knights either seated at the table, jostling for position on the floor, or standing around wherever they could find room. All shields and weaponry were organized and placed in their proper positions; the same could not be said for the knights, who exhibited varying degrees of interest or boredom as Jeran explained a strategy sketched on the map of the Plains of Retreat mounted on the board in front of them. There were various circles, lines, arrows, and X’s sprinkling the plains, hills, and woods on the map, as well as two marked fortresses on either side – one adorned in the Meridellian colors, and the other in green and gold.

“…and this is where we will be placing the archers. They’ll be on the battlements of Fort Skarl,” the blue Lupe was saying, pointing to the red and blue citadel. He frowned briefly when he saw a speckled Gelert toss a coin into the air over and over. “Jaco, this really isn’t the time for your Snargan impression.”

Jaco raised an eyebrow, smirked, and made a show of tossing the coin one more time before stopping to lean back in his seat.

“Anyway, the Brightvale Guard will be moving from the east and will be taking the easiest path through the plains…”

A short striped Kougra hid a yawn behind his fist as his eyes began to droop. As the rest of him followed suit, the burly yellow Lupe beside him nudged him before the Kougra could fall right onto his shoulder. A strawberry Pteri glanced out the war room’s only window and tapped the wing of her companion.

“…we’ll keep the war machines here on this side, as our last line of defense…”

Danner leaned forward with interest, only to emit a stifled “hey!” when the striped Kougra leaned against him instead. “Oakley, seriously?”

Jeran sighed and rubbed his temples. “That’s our strategy for this year’s war games with the Brightvalian Guard. It should be simple enough – they march into our territory, but they won’t march out with a victory. Any questions?”

“What? I’m listening!” a red Draik called out, jerking into wakefulness suddenly.

At first, there was no other response. Having commanded the Order of the Knights of Meridell for years, Jeran’s authority was unquestioned. Asking whether anyone had any questions had become a mere formality in case someone did in fact have questions that were not, “May I go to the little knights’ room?”

Which was why Jeran was slightly taken aback when a hand shot up at the rear of the table.

“Yeah, I have a question.”

Jeran grimaced when he saw that the hand belonged to Sir Rohane of Trestin, a Blumaroo who achieved international fame as an adventurer across five Neopian lands, including Meridell, and who received a hero’s welcome and a place among Meridell’s knights as a long overdue reward. While Jeran did not discount Rohane’s proven skill and expertise in battle and strategy, he had not counted on Rohane being extremely vocal whenever they had discussions like this.

“Why aren’t we using the mountains over on that side?” Rohane asked, standing up and pointing to the mountains on the northeast side of the map. “The terrain is rough for fighters who are unfamiliar with it, it’s a good vantage point for archers who can snipe the Brightvalian forces, and it provides enough cover for us to set up an ambush.”

“The mountains there are difficult to trek especially in full armor,” the Lupe pointed out tiredly as though they had been through this song and dance before. “It’s too risky.” Jeran shook his head.

“It’s a risk that could pay off if we want to win the war games. Again,” Rohane commented. He strode over to the map on the board so he was now standing next to Jeran, raising a finger to trace a path from the mountains down to the plains. “Post a squadron here to start whittling Brightvale down. A little goes a long way, and you don’t want so many knights in one area.” He gestured to Fort Skarl.

“The games end when Brightvale takes our fort. That’s why our forces are heavy here.”

“Then we’ll make sure Brightvale never gets to our fort,” said Rohane, shrugging. “The mountains will keep us out of reach while we use them to our advantage.”

“Your reason is what’s out of reach.” Jeran scowled. “Why don’t we talk about this later? Privately,” he added through gritted teeth.

“Why not now? The games are two weeks away,” Rohane shot back.

Knights who were previously distracted or listless were now listening intently, sitting up or stranding straighter depending on their position in the war room. The two female Pterii got down from their perch, one of them occupying the chair the white Blumaroo had vacated. Wide, alert eyes followed the debate from one hero to another as the debate began to escalate into something more intense.

“This strategy has always brought us victory,” Jeran pressed, pointing agitatedly at his map. “It’s why we win almost every year.”

“Have you ever considered that Brightvale has been taking notes? What if this year they decide to put all those notes to good use?”

“That’s why we have a Plan B, and I was about to get to that when you interrupted me. Sit down, Rohane.”

But Rohane did not sit down, and instead folded his arms across his chest and stood squarely where he was, glaring daggers at the other knight. “Not until you hear me out.”

“We don’t need to change my strategy!” Jeran retorted.

“Well, maybe you should change your mind!”

“My mind is made up. Nothing can change it.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Five hundred Neopoints says they’ll take this to the dueling grounds,” a yellow Lupe whispered to Danner and Oakley as the argument raged.

“Seriously? You’re thinking of making bets right now, Tuffold?” Danner whined.

“This war room’s not big enough for the two of them, apparently,” Jaco commented as he watched with a sardonic grin. “Makes for interesting briefings, though.”

Beryl, the strawberry Pteri perched on Rohane’s chair, shook her head. “This isn’t going to end well.”

“Why won’t you hear me out?” The Blumaroo’s voice had begun to rise – but so did the blue Lupe’s.

“Okay, I’ll hear you out.” Jeran paused before shouting his next words for everyone to hear. “On the dueling grounds!”

“Fine!” Rohane accepted the challenge in a heartbeat. “Now?”

“Now! May the best strategist win!”

“Nice, five hundred Neopoints!” Tuffold proclaimed, pumping a fist into the air.

* * *

“I’m so glad you two could come at such short notice,” gushed a blue Acara in a wizard’s silvery robe as she walked through the castle hallways with a green Eyrie in a neat periwinkle blouse and skirt, and a red Techo in an ornamented black robe and royal blue cape. “Kayla, Lisha and I are almost done with the Mirror Crystals. They’ll allow the audience to see what’s going on during the war games from different angles. Everyone will be able to see the knights clearly…”

“That sounds like a lot of complicated magic,” the Techo noted, stroking his chin.

“Not for the best in Meridell!” a red Zafara in star-spangled robes crowed, meeting the three in the middle of the corridor. “Hi, Talinia, hi, Velm! Oh wow, Rohane’s in for a big surprise when he finds out you two have dropped by for a visit!”

The Eyrie lifted a finger to her beak, smiling faintly. “Shhh, he might hear. Then it won’t be a surprise anymore.”

Kayla waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, he and Jeran and the other knights are still holed up in the war room discussing the strategy for the games. It’s going to be exciting!”

“And not just because of our Mirror Crystals,” Mipsy added. “These are going to be Rohane’s first war games.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing how he’ll help the knights plan their strategy,” said Talinia, nodding. “He’s always been a good strategist and tactician…”

“When he’s not being reckless or when he hasn’t lost his temper,” Velm interrupted, rolling his eyes. “I hope he isn’t giving them a headache.”

“Doesn’t he usually get along with everyone else?” asked the Eyrie. “Well, he and Jeran have had a few disagreements…”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s all in the past,” said Kayla confidently. “You guys wanna head for the war room? You could wait outside till the knights come out and ambush Rohane! That’ll be a real surpri – “

The Zafara’s voice trailed off. The four of them heard the loud clashing of metal interspersed with a lot of enraged yelling.

“I thought the knights were still in the war room,” Mipsy began slowly. “That came from the dueling grounds.”

“Maybe it’s a bunch of rowdy guardsmen?” Kayla offered. “Let’s go see!”

She beckoned the others to follow her down the hall opening into the dueling grounds, which was part of the larger training grounds of the castle but was often reserved for more serious matches. When they arrived, they noticed that there were many onlookers circled around a Lupe and a Blumaroo engaged in a very intense swordfight. Blades flashed in the sunlight as the combatants struck, parried, and swung, grunting, bellowing and trying to make snatches of conversation.

“Jeran – just – listen – to – “

“Yield – already - !”

“Oh, sweet Fyora,” muttered Velm, grimacing. “What’s going on? Something tells me this is no ordinary sparring match.”

“It’s all part of the war games briefing,” a blue Wocky replied, his eyes still on the ongoing battle. Jeran and Rohane had locked swords, each one not giving in to the other. Danner laughed nervously. “All part of the briefing!”

Talinia squinted at him. “Something tells me that isn’t part of the briefing at all.”

“It’s not!” Danner burst out. “Jeran and Rohane argued over our strategy and now…” He flapped a hand at the duel. Jeran feinted and would have disarmed Rohane if the latter had not dodged in time, skidding against the grass and slashing widely at his commanding officer’s legs.

“Hasn’t anyone tried to break them up?” asked Mipsy. A few knights looked at her as though she had told them to go turn the giant marrow into a boat and sail the river with it.

Tuffold shook his head grimly and jerked a thumb at Jeran blocking a quick sword thrust from Rohane. “You try getting in the middle of that, short stuff. My ear nearly got nicked by a wild riposte. So now we’re just standing here waiting for them to tire…”

“They haven’t tired,” said Danner, who sounded tired himself. “When those two get down to duel, nothing on Neopia can stop them until one or both of them fall.” As he said that, the knights collectively winced at Jeran hitting the ground, but they watched with a mix of fascination and dread as he continued to parry Rohane’s strikes from where he was.

“And when we say fall, we don’t mean that kind of fall,” said Beryl. “Really, it’ll take an otherworldly force to make th – “

A loud trumpet blast pierced everyone’s ears and even caused both combatants to freeze and scramble to their feet. As they stood up, everyone could see that the blue Lupe and the white Blumaroo were cut, scratched, bruised, and dirty from their battle. Their tunics and breeches were torn in a dozen places, and their chests were heaving from the exertion.

The trumpet belonged to a green Quiggle wearing purple and maroon livery. He took a deep breath and proclaimed grandly with a sweeping gesture toward the royal male Kyrii at his side, “His Excellency, Baron Cuthbert!”

Everyone scrambled to bow while the Kyrii looked down his nose at them. He glanced at the Quiggle and said, “Your announcing voice still needs some work. More aplomb next time if you please. But for now, leave us.” He clapped his hands, and the Quiggle scurried away, trumpet in tow. Before anyone could ask what Baron Cuthbert was doing on the dueling ground, he gestured imperiously at Jeran and Rohane, a frown of disdain passing over his features briefly.

“You two, come along with me.” He sniffed. “Surely you two lowborn brutes can handle a job better than a squad of soldiers.”

Rohane tensed, making a strangled noise, brows deepening in a scowl. Jeran, in response, clamped a solid hand down on the Blumaroo’s shoulder.

“What’s his problem?” Mipsy whispered to Talinia, who merely shrugged.

“Nothing. He is the problem,” said Oakley, pursing his lips in distaste.

As the two knights stepped forward to approach Cuthbert, he wrinkled his snout and backed away. “But first, make yourselves presentable, please. I won’t have you tracking mud into my study.” The Kyrii tut-tutted before turning on his heel without another word.

“Saved by the stuffy noble,” the striped Kougra blurted out, only to quickly clamp his mouth shut when Cuthbert glanced over his shoulder. But all Cuthbert gave him was a withering glare before he disappeared into the castle.

At first, silence reigned on the grounds. Jeran lifted his hand from Rohane’s shoulder and the two of them relaxed.

Velm was the first to speak as he approached the two bedraggled warriors. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Velm? You’re here?” the Blumaroo asked in surprise before adding, “Yeah, I think so. He felt a scratch on his cheek before checking one of his shoulders.

Jeran nodded, rubbing his arm where his shirt had been sliced open. “We didn’t know you were coming.”

“Okay, good.” The red Techo gripped his staff decisively in his hands and swung it against Rohane’s head.

“Owww!”

Jeran tried to stifle his laughter but failed. What stopped him from laughing was likewise getting struck on the side of his head with the staff.

“Seriously?!”

“You idiots. You meatheads,” Velm growled, jabbing one end of his staff into the ground and creating a small hole. “What were you two thinking, trying to kill each other?”

Mipsy leaned toward Talinia again. “Yikes, Velm is hopping mad.”

“I’m not surprised,” the green Eyrie said in a very deadpan tone of voice.

“We weren’t trying to kill each other!” Jeran objected, raising his hands as though in surrender. “Someone just wouldn’t listen to me during the war games meeting!”

“Maybe if someone just learned to listen to a few suggestions!” Rohane argued.

Danner rubbed his temples. “Maybe two someones shouldn’t have tried to solve their problem with violence.”

“Shouldn’t you be headed for Cuthbert’s study?” Talinia asked slowly. “We wouldn’t want to displease the stuffy noble, after all. Can you patch them up, Velm?”

“I’ll patch them up now, but the next time they pull a stunt like this…” Velm shook his head disapprovingly. “They’ll each be getting more than a rap on the head!”

[Kat]

Part two of A Hero's Journey: It Takes Two, finally. In which good and bad ideas are had, and Rohane wants to punch a noble. Baron Cuthbert may be a jerk but he does have a little backstory - he funded the war efforts but after the destruction of Meridell, he nearly went bankrupt. Sure, he lost a huge chunk of his fortune but he was more concerned with his family's welfare. As a result, he has hated the knights ever since, but admits that he needs them to help find his son.

And a few more notes about Jaco, the speckled Gelert who seems to like causing trouble: I liked the idea of having a troublemaking knight but never gave much thought to his backstory till just awhile ago. Maybe, Jaco was raised as a prim and proper little boy by his father, who is a high-ranking officer among the castle guards, and once he became a knight, he broke away and decided to be chaos incarnate. Jaco is not a jerk with a heart of gold - he is a jerk with a heart of both jerk and gold depending on his mood. He knows how to rile up nobles and knights alike, but he does have a sense of right and wrong. After all, keeping Meridell safe is in his interest; it means all the folks he likes to troll are safe.

SPOILER: Click to show

Chapter 2: Meet Me Inside

Baron Cuthbert steepled his fingers on his garish desk, which was adorned with Cyodrakes on each corner and even had a small statuette of himself as a pen and inkwell holder alongside a fancy gilded tray with several papers. He also had a single packed bookshelf and another shelf with various expensive-looking knickknacks. The entire wall behind him was dominated by a painting of himself with a beautiful female royal Bori. Seated in front of them in the portrait were a faerie Kyrii, a pink Bori, and a small purple Bori.

He sniffed, his expression unimpressed, as he scrutinized the two heroes standing in front of him, dressed in neat shirts, vests, trousers, and boots. Both Jeran and Rohane also wore the red, gold and blue badges of the Order of the Knights of Meridell.

“Hmph. Nice to know you two can clean up nicely,” the royal Kyrii said with a scoff. His expression softened, and he frowned with worry. “Anyway, the reason why I called you is because my son, Wilfrith, is missing.” He pointed up at the purple Bori in the painting, who had an angelic little smile. “I brought him with me today to see his tutor, only to find out later that he managed to slip him a sleeping draught from Kayla’s potion shop before escaping through a window. I had the guards search the area around the castle; unfortunately, their search turned up nothing, which brings us here.” He spread his arms.

Jeran cleared his throat. “With all due respect, Baron Cuthbert, I could mobilize a few squads from the Order – “

Cuthbert cut him off with a wave of his hand and a deepened scowl. “No. I know how much it will cost to mobilize several of your number to find my Wilfrith. I don’t need so many knights stomping around Meridell and bleeding my wallet dry with each hour they’re on duty. You and Sir Rohane will search for him.”

“What?” Rohane blurted out before he could control himself. Though Jeran shot him a look at first, the blue Lupe also stared at Cuthbert in confusion.

“You two are the most decorated knights on the Order, experienced in survival and battle.” Though this was a compliment, the royal Kyrii made a face after saying it. “Which means you should be enough to track down Wilfrith and bring him back at the soonest possible time.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to send a full squad?” Jeran asked, the last word carrying a pleading note. “I know several knights who are expert trackers – “

“Who would be a big help to us,” Rohane added hastily.

Cuthbert slammed his hands onto his desk and snarled, “Didn’t you blockheads hear me? I specifically asked for you! Are you telling me that finding a ten-year-old is beneath you? Or perhaps too much for you to handle?”

“Of course not!” said Jeran, his tone even but mildly affronted. Beside him, Rohane had balled his hands into fists and was shaking ever so slightly with controlled anger.

“Maybe I should raise this matter directly to King Skarl himself – “

“No, no, that won’t be necessary,” said the Lupe steadily, as he reached out and gripped Rohane’s arm tightly. The Blumaroo relaxed, but not completely, and his annoyed expression was largely unchanged. Jeran took a deep breath and said as calmly as he could, “I was just confirming that only Sir Rohane and I will look for your son, Wilfred.”

Rohane shook his head and stared at Jeran. “You mean Wilbert.”

The older knight raised his eyebrows. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

Cuthbert groaned and ran a hand through his mane in agitation. “Some heroes you two are! You really are just like the rest of them, lowborn blockheads and dullards and thugs.”

“Did you just call us into your office to insult us?” Rohane snapped. He took one step toward the royal Kyrii’s desk and would have taken another step, and another, if Jeran hadn’t stepped closer to him and discreetly blocked him with an outstretched arm. “We already said we were going to look for him!”

Jeran paused before saying evenly, “Baron Cuthbert, you have our word that we’ll bring your son back, as members of the Honorable Order of the Knights of Meridell. If that’s all you need from us, we will take our leave and start searching for him.”

“Good.” Cuthbert leaned back in his seat and clasped his fingers together. He glared from Rohane to Jeran. “Get out of my sight and don’t come back until you have Wilfrith with you. Shall I repeat my son’s name several more times until you can remember it?”

“No, no, we’ll remember it. Wilfrith, correct?” the blue Lupe repeated as he began ushering Rohane out of the study, grunting with mild effort. “We’ll get ready. Good day, sir.”

The two of them remained silent until they were in the castle corridor, well out of Cuthbert’s earshot. Only then did Jeran finally let go of Rohane.

“Why did you stop me? He looked at me like I was stupid, I’m not stupid!”

“First of all, he’s not worth it,” Jeran answered, holding up a finger. Then he held up another. “Second, we would have a much bigger problem on our hands if you fought him. His family was one of the Order’s most generous funders during the wars.”

“I wasn’t going to fight him!” Rohane argued. “I was just…going to give him a piece of my mind!”

“Sounds like you were going to fight him.”

“He can’t treat others like that!”

Jeran rubbed his temples as they placed more distance between themselves and Cuthbert’s office. “Yeah, he can’t. Baron Cuthbert is a stuffy jerk, but we can’t say that to his face. We have to tread carefully around nobles like him.”

The white Blumaroo sighed loudly. “So, we’re just going to let him walk all over everyone else. That’s your great strategy for jerk nobles?”

“It’s our strategy for keeping everyone else out of trouble!” Jeran exclaimed. “I’ve been on the court for years and that’s always been the best course of action. Talk less, smile more, and hope they leave you alone.”

Rohane seethed but continued walking alongside Jeran.

“You said he funded the Order during the wars. I don’t get it; he treats us like dung.”

“You know how the war against Darigan turned out,” the blue Lupe replied. “And the battle against Lord Kass and his army wasn’t a cakewalk either.” He seemed to age ten years when he mentioned the wars, a dark cloud settling over his features. “Baron Cuthbert’s family went bankrupt. We believe he blames the knights, even until now.”

Rohane fell silent for a moment.

“But I agree, he is a jerk,” Jeran admitted. “Maybe if this goes well and we find Wilbur, Baron Cuthbert won’t be such a pain to deal with.”

* * *

“This won’t go well,” said Danner, his tone filled with dread. “Jeran and Rohane on a mission together? Just the two of them? We all know what’ll happen next.”

“They’ll rip each other apart before they even find the kid,” said Jaco, snickering as he leaned back and hoisted his feet onto the war room table, ignoring a mortified look from Danner. “They’ll be dueling before they’ve taken three steps into the woods. I can’t miss this.”

“Too bad Baron Cuthbert insisted on just them looking for the young Lord Wilfrith,” a female royal Blumaroo commented, looking up from where she was sitting primly with a book. She shook her head. “He hasn’t gotten over going bankrupt during the wars.”

“If he had gotten over it, we wouldn’t be here figuring out what to do!” the blue Wocky complained as he started shoving the speckled Gelert’s boots off the table.

Tuffold frowned thoughtfully. “Is there anything we can do? If we try to follow Jeran and Rohane, cranky Cuthbert is going to complain to Skarl about getting charged extra for each knight joining those two meatheads on the search.”

“Cranky Cuthbert can’t complain about something he doesn’t know,” Jaco pointed out, tapping his temple and winking. “Send me, I want to see how long it’ll take for them to get into a scrap.”

The Blumaroo frowned at him as she closed her book with a snap.

“We are definitely not sending you, Jaco,” the strawberry Pteri knight piped up from where she was polishing a long dagger.

“You’re such a killjoy, Beryl.”

“Guys, guys, I have the answer to all of our problems!” Oakley cried as he burst into the war room. He stepped aside to allow Mipsy, Talinia and Velm to tentatively enter the room after him. “Er, answers.”

“Are you sure we’re allowed in here, Sir Oakley?” Talinia asked.

The short striped Kougra made a dismissive sound and flapped his hand. “You’ve got permission courtesy of me, Sir Oakley of Mulberry! I’m a knight, and I say you can enter the knights’ war room!”

“Oakley, you know that’s not how permission to enter the war room works,” Danner pointed out.

“Forget the rules on permission! We need Jeran and Rohane to not fight, right? And they could use the extra help! Ta-da!”

Velm looked at Oakley before managing a flamboyant bow. Talinia merely shrugged, while Mipsy waved at all the knights in attendance. Danner, however, was not convinced.

“But Baron Cuthbert – “

“Only said he doesn’t want to pay for any more knights looking for his kid,” Tuffold finished. “They’re not knights. Cuthbert doesn’t have to take out another Neopoint.”

“You three are doing it free of charge, right?” Jaco added.

Velm opened his mouth, but Talinia cut him off. “Yes, we are. Normally Rohane keeps a cool head, but he also has a temperamental side.”

“Especially around Jeran,” the red Techo said, not without disapproval.

“And we’ve already seen how…intense they get,” the green Eyrie added.

“You’re telling me,” Tuffold muttered, raising a hand to his ear.

“It makes for great entertainment, though,” Jaco remarked.

“Not when a little Bori’s life is in danger!” Danner chided him before turning to Mipsy, Talinia and Velm. “All right, can you follow Jeran and Rohane? Just…keep them out of trouble.”

Velm chuckled. “Oh, I’ve had a lot of experience in that department.”

“Leave it to us!” Mipsy crowed, pumping her fist into the air eagerly. Then she paused, lowering her arm. “So, uh, which way did they go?”

[Kat]

I've been entering the Australian Writers' Centre's Furious Fiction competition monthly, and so far I've had no dice, but I'd like to share one of my rejected entries entitled "The Station of Goodbyes".

The prompt involved a station and saying goodbye so I had the idea of a train station that took away your imaginary friends.

SPOILER: Click to show

The train waiting in the station looked as though a child had peppered it with colorful stickers and then scrawled on it with chalk and crayons. The smoke pouring from the engine resembled cotton candy. Boarding it was a wild rainbow of passengers – humanoid ones, animals wearing clothes and walking on two legs like people, and creatures that I could only describe as pulled from kids’ artwork.

Speaking of kids, there were so many kids bidding the quirky passengers goodbye. I was suddenly aware that I was eighteen years old and embraced by a large furry gray elephant. For a moment, I just stood there, my arms hanging limply, breathing in the faint musty smell of the elephant.

“Well, this is goodbye,” the elephant said. “We had a lot of fun years, didn’t we?”

“Yeah, I guess,” I answered, not mentioning that he spent the last few years sitting in my closet.

“Remember when you were five, we went into the kitchen at three in the morning because you wanted an egg? And you were about to try and get one from the tray, but Mom caught you – no, us?”

“Mmm.”

“Oh, you know what this train reminds me of? The train set you got on your birthday, and you made me drive it. And Barbie and Ken kept telling me I was going too fast.”

A light was switched on in a forgotten corner of my brain. I was eight, and immediately sat Leff onto the train while I drove it all over the tracks, and the carpet, and in one case, down the stairs. Thankfully, Dad put Barbie and Ken back together, and Leff suffered no harm.

I called him Leff because when I first got him, I couldn’t say “elephant” properly.

“Yeah.”

“And…and…” Leff’s voice trailed off. He furrowed his worn brow and glanced down at me. “I heard you broke up with Cindy. I wanted to comfort you, like old times, but I guess you wanted to be alone.”

I did want to be alone at the time, and I had considered bringing Leff out from the closet to hold him tightly like when I was afraid of the dark, but I never did.

“It’s okay. I figured it was almost my time anyway. Heh, you grew up so fast.”

Before I could decide whether to return the hug, Leff broke away and waddled toward the train. He paused to wave and smile at me before boarding. I finally raised one arm to tentatively wave back before the train sped away. To where, I did not know.

When I turned to leave, I tripped over something, and saw that it was a raggedy gray elephant plush toy. I picked it up and stared into its beady eyes. It said nothing and did nothing.

It was just a toy, after all. And I was through with toys already, for a long time.

“Goodbye, Leff,” I whispered into its ear.

[Kat]

I got into the Acara Day poetry gallery, yes, but not with my first attempt at writing a villanelle:

SPOILER: Click to show

Mipsy lifts her wand, sends a mighty blast,
Speaks powerful words, calls, "Obliterate!"
Against all her spells, no monsters can last.

When her party needs a boost, and have to go fast,
When their time is gold, and they can't be late,
Mipsy lifts her wand, sends a mighty blast.

When it comes to damage, she has surpassed,
Talinia's arrows, and Rohane's steel blade.
Against all her spells, no monsters can last.

And when adamant shields need to be cast,
This Acara, she will not bow or fade,
Mipsy lifts her wand, sends a mighty blast.

Neopia's so dangerous and vast!
Overrun with villains, both small and great.
Against all her spells, no monsters can last.

With Velm at her side, healer in contrast,
To keep her safe so she won't bend or break,
Mipsy lifts her wand, sends a mighty blast
Against all her spells, no monsters can last.

I might edit it a bit before I resubmit.