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What Dreams May Come
The Feeralls saw the Dragonmist's demise from the battleground
outside the ring of stone in Denholm Valley. It was like a spectacular firework
display of white light. What they had seen was a blue figure, small in comparison
with the Dragonmist, fly to an amazing height above it and stop, hovering to
be parallel with the beginning of the spout of mist that swirled among the clouds
about one hundred metres into the air. At this point all the Darkgons who were
left fighting stopped and galloped from the scene, handing the Kougras their
victory on a platter. The figure in the clouds suddenly glowed a brilliant white
so much so that it was almost eerie, ghostly even, and it took a nose-dive straight
through the monster, like a silver bullet. The Dragonmist looked at its gaping
wound for a few moments with a look of abject horror on its face before smouldering
in a colour identical to that of its destroyer. The winds died down. The mist
shrank and was swept back into the clouds. And within minutes the crimson evening
sky was as it had been, as if nothing had happened.
It was Rincham who raised the alarm. He met
up with two Aishas and took them with him to see Nahele and Kendra. He explained
that it must have been Angel who destroyed the Dragonmist and it was her wings
reflecting the light that gave the appearance of a silver bullet in the sky.
Immediately Nahele ordered his troops to the ring of stone where she had landed
in the dire hope of finding her …
~*~*~*~
'… so this is what it's like being a ghost …'
'… it's not too shabby …'
'… thought there'd be more people here, like
…'
The Electric Eyriess' eyes opened to a misty
scene, looking like the windows do when they steam up after a snowstorm. Everything
was blurry. The unthinkable things she had just done suddenly echoed themselves
in her memories. *Bleeper* the Avabot had been destroyed. She had attacked FiskMerrick
and engaged in a thorough and frightening revenge. Then she had left him and
gone for the Dragonmist instead, soaring higher and higher into the sky until
she could simply dive into it and … she must be dead. There was no way she could
have survived a fall like that.
Then suddenly, a voice brought her back to her
senses. A familiar, deep voice shouting her name. She saw a tall figure, about
ten or so years older than she was, with identical silver wings who ran with
a stumbling, clumsy gait towards her. Her eyes brimmed with joy and her heart
leapt as she recognised him seconds later, and she rushed forwards to greet
him.
"Angel! You did it! Way to go, sis!"
"Aren! I thought I'd never see you again."
"Yeah, well, you should know by now that things
rarely go as you'd expect, Angel." He grinned cheekily back at her. "I knew
you could do it all along. You knew that the key to the Dragonmist was nothing
real - nothing that you could trust or see - but a song, and as we Kumlaas were
the guardians of the Dragonmist only we could destroy it. Which was why FiskMerrick
wanted to keep you in check so badly."
"But the only way to destroy it was to release
it," she murmured soberly. "I was so afraid I had unleashed such a terrible
evil on the world …"
"Hey, hey, hey - you didn't release anything.
It was FiskMerrick's fault. And besides it had to be released before it could
be destroyed. There are no rainbows without a little rain, you know."
Angel smiled, happy at last. "I'm so glad this
is all over. Now I'll never have to see that jerk again."
"What do you mean?"
"We're dead. We'll never have to see FiskMerrick
ever again."
Aren gave a rueful laugh. "I don't know whether
it's good news or bad news to you, Angel, but you're not dead."
She paused mid-sentence and tilted her head.
"Then why am I here?"
"I brought you here because there are some people
I want you to meet. Come with me."
He started to pad towards the North, glancing
back every so often to make sure Angel was still following. After several minutes
of walking the gentle wisps of fog thinned all the more, and eventually cleared.
When they stopped, Angel realised she was standing in what looked like a living
room, with chairs and tables eloquently moulded out of clouds. She blinked.
A pretty room - idealistic - like a doll's house made of cotton wool. And over
every edge of every surface was a highlighted sliver of golden light, fashioned
from a bright spherical light that hung, suspended in the sky, somewhere in
the West. It was like it came out of nowhere. Why were they here?
A soft creak like the opening of a door that
didn't seem to really be there brought her rapidly to her senses. Here eyes
searched the room, drifting through the mist and onto Aren's grinning, all-knowing
face and back into the mist. A few moments later, and two silhouettes appeared.
Tall and proud, their heads held high, they advanced slowly towards Angel and
Aren through the fog until their outlines were clearly defined. Angel blinked
again, and drew in a sudden, sharp breath.
Closest to her stood the most beautiful Eyriess
she had ever seen. She was tall and slim, verging on lanky, with her fur clipped
short to her hide so it glossed eloquently as she stepped. Each step was met
with fluid grace as she walked closer and closer towards them, almost in slow
motion. Beside her strode a handsome and magnificent Fire Eyrie, mane fluffed
up, head held high and proud and wings outspread in a kind-of expectation of
a hug.
Angel's legs felt like solid wooden boards.
She couldn't move. No matter how much her mind urged her to move forward, her
body didn't respond for the shock. All her wildest hopes and dreams had come
to life … what could she do? "Mam? Dad?"
The Striped Eyriess gave Angel a warm and poignant
smile. "You did it, my girl. You defeated the Dragonmist. We are so proud of
you!" She rushed forward, wings outstretched, and hugged her daughter. Aren
and Iagan, who had been standing silently by their side, darted to join the
embrace. They were together again. One big, happy family.
Angel left the clasp of Eyries and felt her
eyes pricking with acid tears, forcing herself to smile through the rapid surge
of jovial emotion. "I can't believe it. You're here. You're finally here!" she
trailed off. "But not for long …"
Iagan studied her face earnestly. "So Aren has
told you you're not dead then. You know deep down that it's for the best. Think
of who you'd be leaving behind." "Aye, I know. You're right. Still, I'm so happy
to see you again! But I sense this isn't the only reason I'm here. Why bring
me here?"
"We believe you deserve an explanation for all
this," said Aren, speaking up. "We know not much makes sense to you at the moment."
"Too right!"
Iagan walked over with the grace and majesty
of an eagle and stood opposite her. "I know it is the common belief that the
spirit and living worlds should not interfere with each other. But sometimes
they do collide. And yours is such a case.
"Two hundred years ago an ancient Island Mystic
had a vision illustrating the downfall of the Kumlaa Clan, and the eventual
annihilation of the Dragonmist. He told no one of what he saw, and wrote all
this down in a collection of documents known as the Kumlaa Scrolls. He was unaware
if or when this prophecy would come to pass, but it did happen. 183 years later.
When you were just a tiny cub and the Kumlaas were in their prime. All were
destroyed … except you. We left you in the safety of an unknown family of Acara
kits in a dell named Sparklestream Creek. In the middle of nowhere. Where you
would be totally safe. Unbeknownst to us Aren had survived too," - Aren fluffed
his mane at the sound of his name - "and he continued to live without the knowledge
that his sister was still alive. Everyone else was gone, including us two. But
luckily our foe had not discovered the whereabouts of the Dragonmist, and for
seventeen years after our demise our secret remained hidden in the backs of
only two living minds, and our story dwindled into myth."
Iagan sidestepped to allow his wife to continue
the story. "A few days ago," Thyora continued, "the Kumlaa Scrolls containing
the prophecy were discovered by an explorer named Professor Chesterpot, along
with a Uni named MonoKeras and a Bruce by the name of Virgil. Not all of the
prophecy was revealed - washed away by years of hardship and unable to decipher.
But what they could decipher were the details that recorded she who was to bring
the Dragonmist to it's end - heavenly being bearing a cross in a heart … last
of the pure … half an arrow … bullet in the sky … spirits of the past will reawaken
…"
Angel furrowed her brows. "Spirits of the past
reawakening? Before now I've never seen any ghosts."
"But you have, dear! We were there. We held
you up as you flew to make the final deathblow to that evil smog. Could you
not feel our spirit?"
Angel thought about this for a moment. It was
true. She had felt a sensation, as though someone was holding her, suspended
above the behemoth, like a puppet. So her parents hadn't left her at all. "But
I thought you weren't allowed to meddle in the world of the living."
Thyora shuffled her paws awkwardly. "Well, the
Big Guy Upstairs allowed us privileges. Had we not meddled, Neopia would be
a goner. But we had made a difference in the world before even then. Do you
remember your last visit to Mystery Island? It was with your owner. And you
got a shock when she suddenly fell off her chair in a seaside kiosk and didn't
tell you what she really saw until recently. Am I right?"
Angel nodded.
"That was our doing too. We sent images of the
Dragonmist to the minds of only three people to whom it would have the most
impact. One was to Aren, who would immediately realise what was happening. One
was to the descendent of the original Island Mystic who first received the vision.
He would be able to operate some line of defence in some way, and he did so
by warning people away from the Island with the help of the 'beast' Aren. The
third person we let into our secret was Jenny. She saw the face of the Dragonmist
in a flame on the kiosk table, and since then had nightmares. She didn't tell
you until recently, but at least she did when the time was right. Too early
and you would think you were losing your mind. Too late and, well, you decide
what might have happened …"
Thyora finished her speech and allowed her daughter
to dwell on this for a while. "So, Jen's not psychic then?"
"No," she chuckled.
"Drat. I had a really good feeling about next
week's lottery too."
There was a moment of silence, and the three
Eyries dissolved into relaxed laughter, allowing the tension to ebb away. Thyora
wiped away a tear - of laughter or of sorrow, no one knows - and placed her
paw Angel's shoulder, smiling. "It's time you went now, my daughter. You're
needed much more elsewhere."
"But …"
Iagan chipped in: "You'll not be doing any good
staying here, Angel. Think of your friends and family on earth, and your spirit
will take you home. You know it's right."
Her heart sank suddenly, feeling like a lead
weight in her chest. This single encounter - one that she had yearned for all
her life - had been so brief. Too brief. But they will meet again, some day.
Just not today. She knew it was right.
Angel stepped forward silently, for no words
could explain the emotions she was feeling, and gave her family one final embrace.
And through blurred eyes scalding with tears, she watched her mother Thyora,
father Iagan and older brother Aren fade away. Their happy, smiling faces melted
into the background and became like… mist.
She closed her eyes and thought of her loved
ones - Rincham, Angel, Safyre, Twist - and slipped into what seemed to be a
state of unconsciousness. A hinterland. Not able to move, but hearing everything
around her as a dull thump throbbing through her sub consciousness …
~*~*~*~
"Angel?"
"My God, Angel, wake up! Please don't leave.
Wake up!"
Words and phrases were hovering about her mind
like butterflies she could not quite grasp, and came to settle in full sentences
as she became conscious of her disposition. Then she felt things. The warmth
of a hand gently rubbing her own, trying to awaken and reassure her. And a slow,
steady trickle of a tear running down her face. Her brain told her body to get
up. It failed to respond. Her muscles twitched, and - feeling this tremor run
through her fur - the hand that massaged her limp paw stopped and clung to her
tightly. This gave her an added sense of self-esteem, and, bringing all the
strength she could muster, opened an eyelid sleepily. Her vision was blurred.
Very blurred. All she could make out were smudges of colour and shapes. But
before she could regain her eyesight, a powerful force suddenly grabbed her
neck and stayed there, refusing to budge.
"Angel? You're alive! Oh, thank goodness!"
She blinked. Her double vision merged into one.
And she looked down at a pair of bright brown eyes, blemished with tears. Jen.
Her owner gave another hiccup of nervous laughter
before dissolving into sobs yet again. Angel couldn't yet hear everything, but
could make out the repeated words, "You're alive!", as she cuddled the human
with the one paw that still had feeling. Gazing back into nothingness she waited
for her long-distance vision to restore. The first thing she saw when this did
happen, however, was a small face, red with devil horns, eyes brimming with
delight.
"Oh my God," Angel slurred. "I went too far
down, didn't I?"
The Halloween Aisha gave a high-pitched giggle
of relief and rushed forward to hug her friend, ignoring her wheezes of "Steady
on! I've just come into consciousness, for cryin' out loud!".
With her vision fully restored, Angel gazed
around at the procession of pets. Of course she wasn't 'down below'. Shining_Safyre
the devilish-looking Aisha was almost crying with relief. Their boss, the plushie-painted
White Aisha Angle8285 looked fit to burst with pride. Her brother Rincham was
there too, his face moulded into a gentle smile, trying to mask the twinkle
of delight in his eyes. And her owner didn't even bother to mask her tears that
brimmed over with pure happiness. She never cried. Never. Until now.
"But I don't get it," muttered Angle. "Not that
I'm not ecstatic you survived, Angel, but do you realised you fell hundreds
of feet towards the ground and into a mountain crag, and you're barely hurt?
There's hardly a scratch on you? How did that happen?"
Warily, the Eyriess wrenched herself to her
feet and winced, putting little weight on her front left paw. She smiled weakly
at her friend. "I dunno. I guess someone was watching over me."
"You got that right." A voice tripped along
the air seemingly from nowhere, like a trilling bell on the breeze. The small
ensemble rapidly felt a kind of warm presence within the stone circle. Angel
turned her head painfully from side to side, trying to find the source of the
voice. Then she saw it. A tiny lilac foot sauntered into the circle, leading
its owner into clear view. She was small, only about the size of Angel's paw,
and slight in stature, yet there was a strange aura of power and respect surrounding
her that made all of their mouths drop. It was Fyora, the Faerie Queen, and
behind her, winking at the Eyriess as she followed her superior, was Nereid.
"Angel, the 72nd of the 21st," said Fyora, speaking
in softened regal tones. "You ignored what your head told you and followed your
heart. Instead of battling FiskMerrick and taking revenge, you thought of the
consequences, and went after the Dragonmist instead. Without it, FiskMerrick's
army could not function. That was all that mattered. You didn't care about what
happened to you, just as long as FiskMerrick was stopped and your friends saved.
To sacrifice yourself to ensure the safety of others. That's what takes true
courage."
There was silence for a few moments. Neither
of the two Aishas, Kougra, Eyriess or human said a word. Fyora prolonged her
icy glare and cool composure for a few seconds more until her face broke into
a warm smile. "Congratulations."
Angel smiled back in response and dropped to
her knees in a bow. "Thank you, Miss. I just hope that from now on we can continue
with our lives as normal as can be."
"Oh I doubt that as much as you do, Angel,"
she returned, taking steps closer to the Eyriess. "Though all the Darkgons dispersed
and ran away like the cowards they are, FiskMerrick and his cronies saw the
blast through. Well, all but Malkus Vile. The last we saw of them was a small
Yellow Jetsam kicking a fat Skeith in the butt and yelling ~You're fired!~ at
the top of his voice. Things will never be exactly as normal." She stepped forward,
and there was a crunching sound from under her feet. She stopped and looked
at the ground. Under her feet lay a leaf of yellow metal. Fyora took this into
consideration, and a sympathetic smile snaked across her face. "But here's something
I can do to relieve the pain."
The Faerie Queen took three items into her arms
- a silver claw from Sid, a piece of black rubber track from R2, and the yellow
shard of metal that was from *Bleeper*. She gathered the items together and
held them close, chanting in a soft, humming voice like the drone of a bee.
As they watched the items started to rise from her grip and twirl in the air,
slowly at first, but getting rapidly faster until all anyone could see was a
burning pink light into which more and more pieces of metal and circuitry were
being sucked. Soon not one shingle was left on the ground. The burning mass
of metal spun faster and faster, glowed brighter and brighter, until it exploded
in a crescendo of light and power.
In the confusion Angel shielded her face with
her wing. She waited and slowly revealed her face as the powdery light faded.
Fyora was standing before her, a smirk spread across her face. She winked, and
stepped aside. Just behind her, sitting on the floor and looking still rather
confused, were three tiny figures. An Ultra Pinceron named Sid. A Neotrak named
R2. And an Avabot named *Bleeper*.
"*Bleeper*!" Angel cried. Her eyes burned with
joy. The little Avabot shook his head, looked up at her, and turned his cute
little LED eyes blue with happiness. "You're back! You're all right! Oh, *Bleeper*,"
she stumbled forward painfully and enveloped him in her good paw. "Don't you
ever do that again! But I'm so glad you did anyway."
"I'm glad to see so," Fyora chuckled. But before
she could say a word, Rincham chimed in, his face creased in an irritated scowl.
"Heyheyhey, where'd you come from? Where were
all the high-and-mighty Faeries when Angel and the Feeralls were out there,
risking their lives to save everyone? I get it. The storm is over so you all
come out to bask in the sunshine. Am I right?"
"Uh… not quite. Us Faeries have been sorting
out a wee problem with Balthazar in the Lost Desert. It seems FiskMerrick's
contacts ran deeper than we thought. "
The Kougra grumbled slightly and stepped back,
satisfied. His eyes, sparkling, turned to the Faerie Queen, then to his sister.
Then, with his face split into a tender smile, he took a deep breath and yelled:
"Alright, guys. Three cheers for my sister Angel_72_21, THE LAST OF THE KUMLAA
EYRIES!"
A second's pause, and the stone circle erupted
with applause as dozens of Feeralls leaped from their positions hidden behind
the stones and clapped their paws together madly, celebrated their liberation
from FiskMerrick and his evil Dragonmist. Fyora paused, watching the Kougra
Warriors, before joining in the ovation herself. The others followed her lead
- Angle the plushie Aisha, Safyre the Halloween Aisha, Rincham the proud and
grateful Spotted Kougra and Jen, drying her tears on a sleeve.
The only one who didn't join in the approbation
was Nereid. Instead of clapping she took to the air and flew over to Angel,
took a seat on her shoulder like an oddly deformed parrot and looked her dead
in the eye: "What did I tell you, Angel? Everyone knew you could do it."
The Eyriess shrugged. "Aye. I shouldn't have
doubted anyone. As much as I doubt myself …" she trailed off, dwelling on her
meeting with her parents mere minutes prior. "I thought I saw them, you know.
My parents. And Aren. They were there telling me that I had succeeded, and that
they were so proud of me. But how can they have been there? They're gone. I
should have known it was just a dream."
"Just a dream? Just a dream? Do you think
that you would be here, celebrating your triumph over the darkest of evils,
if Jen had dismissed her own vision as 'just a dream'?" Nereid continued. "Your
parents were always there to protect you. They never left you. In spirit, they
were there - and will always be there - to guide you. On your way to find the
Dragonmist you thought you heard a voice urging you forward, though there was
not a soul in sight. You felt a strange force lift you up in the air when you
felt like your body would give way. At that same time, people saw two bright
white lights surround your wings, almost like spirits suspended in the wind.
I'll let you draw your own conclusions." She raised a thin hand and pointed
to Angel's taut, crippled paw. "You doubt yourself? Then look closer to home."
Cottoning on to what she was saying and trying
to ignore the wild celebrations of the Neopets around her, Angel rocked back
on her haunches and picked up her paw as it scraped along the sandstone. With
Nereid's help, she prised it open with difficulty as if it were a vice. Unexpected
as it was, nestled warm within her paw was a tiny object, oblong in shape and
glittering like a precious stone. As indeed it was. She recognised it immediately
- a Thyora's Tear.
"No way," Angel whispered. "But … how?
I thought …"
"You thought it was all a dream," said Nereid,
smiling. "But your parents were looking after you all along. And there's your
proof."
It was a while before Angel answered her. The
Eyriess' hazel eyes were alight and throbbing with shock, disbelief and amazement.
"I should think so too," she answered in a quivering voice. "How else could
it get here? The crystal can only be found in mines thousands of miles from
here …"
~*~*~*~
There is a café in Neopia Central. A quaint little spot, tucked neatly in
the corner and snuggled in between a post office and bookshop just near the
entrance to the catacombs. The air is always perfumed with the essence of honey
and camomile, and you can count on there always being a sprig of purple lavender
placed neatly in the centre of the table. On a particular day there was a very
special guest in the café. A hero. Had they not been around to save the day,
every Neopet and owner in Neopia would not be there today. But no one knew it.
The figure sat calmly in a hazy, misty air that shone golden-brown in the heat
of the midday sun. Her left arm was in a cast, and she had a black eye. Standing
in front of her on the table was an energetic and upbeat Avabot, who took time
off lamenting the past to chase after tufts of lint floating through the air.
His master however had no intention of forgetting the past. She looked around
at the people in the café, sitting with their friends, having a chatter about
this, that, and the other. It was amazing to think how close they had come to
the end of the road.
The Electric Eyriess had chosen not to tell
anyone of what she had accomplished in Denholm. After the defeat of the Dragonmist
she spent a few days on Mystery Island, tending to her wounds and going on reminiscent
voyages with the Feeralls and the Island Mystic, with whom she had forged a
deep and unfathomable bond. Jen was fine - nothing a cup of hot chocolate and
a pepperoni pizza couldn't fix. Rincham stayed with her till the very end, and
eventually broke to her with a heavy heart of what he had done. How FiskMerrick
had tracked down Jen through the bug in his armlet, and how he couldn't help
but feel responsible for her part in this amazing quest. Naturally she forgave
him. How could she not? The showdown between Angel and FiskMerrick was inevitable,
and if it weren't for Rin and his amazing Feerall family she may not have survived
… no, she would not have survived an attack from the Darkgons. Life was seen
from a whole new angle - she should embrace her friends and rejoice in their
faith and love, for you really don't know what you've got till it's gone. It's
not just a cheesy song. Those lyrics speak volumes.
Eventually they had to leave. Well, Angle, Safyre,
Jen, Angel and Rincham had to leave, along with *Bleeper* the Avabot. R2 and
Sid remained with Nahele, Kendra and Keilani to protect them. Rin had little
to say about the matter. Angel assumed he hadn't gotten on well with R2 to begin
with and decided the Neotrak would be better off with his old family. In fact,
he said very little overall. A few words were exchanged between him and Nahele,
but nothing more. Angel knew that Rin too had a secret. A secret he had been
suppressing for years now, hiding in the nooks and crevices of his soul to blot
out from his life, and by coming to Denholm this secret had bubbled to surface.
But she was tired. She had discovered too many secrets for this lifetime - wait
a few months before she could deal with any more. Their parting was painful.
But she had to look for the future. The jigsaw puzzle that was her past had
been solved. Finally.
Clunk.
Angel blinked and shook her head, rousing herself
from the zombie-like state. Safyre and Angle were sitting opposite her, and
Rincham had taken the seat beside her.
"You've been awfully quiet recently, Angel,"
muttered her superior. "Anything wrong?"
"Thinking."
Angel's reply was monotonous and taciturn, just
as they suspected. She was stewing over things, as she had been for days, sinking
deeper and deeper into a state of melancholy dejection. She needed her friends
more than anything now. "I'm thinking there is something wrong," Safyre mused.
"You can tell us anything, y'know."
The Eyriess drew in a breath and looked around
at her friends. "I know that. I know that. It's just … it's so hard. I've just
undergone one heck of an adventure. I've discovered my life, my destiny, and
my 'calling'. But what now? Nothing seems to make sense anymore. It's like since
I faced my destiny and overcame it, I have no purpose."
"You could tell people what you saw. Tell people
what you did and why they are still here thanks to you. Would that give you
a purpose?" Safyre pulled something out of her pocket - a vial. The vial of
Patocol Potion that Rincham had kept. If she used the Potion that would be all
the proof she needed.
Her hazel eyes bore deep into the vial. And,
with one swift hand movement, she brushed it aside. "No. It wouldn't."
"Then what would?"
"Embrace your future," came a sonorous voice
to Angel's left. Her brother, Rincham. "The past is a difficult thing to let
go of. Certain experiences in your past can mould your future. But if you dwell
too much on things that have been or might have been, you'll never know or experience
things that will come to be. And what kind of life would that be? Reliving the
past day by day? Not making a difference in the world? Locked up in the attic
like some Aunt Ada Doom stereotype? Not much of a life at all." He paused, then
added: "I'll order a cup of tea. Milk. Two sugars."
All three pets and *Bleeper* stared at him,
not daring to say a word before Angel finally grinned and piped up, "That was
really wise coming from you, Rin. I only hope you follow your own advice too."
He didn't reply to that. Of all the Neopets
at that table, he was the only one that could really relate to what Angel was
saying. He had a secret. Some time, it would be told. But not now. Now all he
wanted was a cup of tea.
"So what is your decision, Angel?" Angle continued,
trying to change the subject. "Do you dwell on the past, or embrace your future
and responsibility at the NSPA?"
Angel lowered her eyes. She turned her back
to her three friends and peered at her faint reflection in the window. Peered
at her arrow-shaped stripe and silver-tipped wings, the marks of her Clan. Peered
at the golden heart-shaped locket that hung around her neck, the mark of her
family's deep love for her. *Bleeper* sensed her deep anguish and nuzzled her
paw, trying to comfort her. She smiled. The little Avabot with no extraordinary
abilities had been willing to pay the ultimate price for his owner. She watched
the reflections of her friends in the misty pane. Saf and Angle remained devoted
friends, and without their help she would never have found Aren and rediscovered
her past. And Rincham. What a fighter! He ignored Angel's stubborn plea for
him to stay out of danger and fought like a warrior to prevent any harm from
coming to her. Like actors in a marvellous play, everyone had a role to play
in the destruction of the Dragonmist. Everyone had a role to play in life. And
the curtain was far from coming down on her performance.
"Hey, you!"
Everyone turned in unison. Standing by their
table was a Kiko. Rincham narrowed his eyes, recognising him as the one he had
bumped into on his way to the Feeralls.
"I know you. You're the Feerall Kougra I met
in Denholm! And you're the Eyriess that blew up the Dragonmist too!" the Kiko
squealed.
Angle8285 and Shining_Safyre quailed, spluttering
to find an explanation. "I'm sorry sir, we really have no idea what you're talking
about …"
A large paw landed on Angle's shoulder, stopping
her from saying anymore. Angel_72_21 the Kumlaa Eyrie rose to her feet and turned
to the Kiko, smiling ominously.
"What do you think you're doing?" the
Aisha hissed.
"I'm doing what you told me to," Angel replied
calmly, whispering from the corner of her beak. "I'm embracing my future." She
turned to the Kiko and lifted her locket to eye-level, open and exposing the
mind-wiping device that was implanted inside. She smirked, and said simply:
"The Dragonmist never existed. Run along now."
In a split second a bright white light dazzled
the Kiko, and he remembered no more.
THE END.
Author's (Final) Note:
"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams."
~Eleanor Roosevelt Aloha, folks!
This is my final two cents (or two pennies, in my case) to say a great
big thank you to all the people who have made this series possible. Here's a
great big shout-out to my little sister Lara (larashippen) and my 'real-life'
friends Mojo, Joanne, Sam, Patters, Zoë, Choobs and Michael, Emma and Dan, and
all the Claires, plus anyone I might have missed. You guys are the greatest.
Without all your incredible support I would never still be here pouring my little
heart out into poetry and prose, Neopets and non. There are also a bazillion
others I'd like to verbally hug right now who - if I mentioned them all - would
make this *cough*short *cough* editorial carry on until the next issue. You
all know who you are. And also thanks to White_Wolf42, Snickering_1, Scriptfox
and Sonicoem for allowing me to use your characters and being generally supportive
- you're the best. And - of course - thanks to Josh Filan for putting up with
and printing the dribble I class as stories. Whether they realise it or not,
by printing these stories The Neopian Times team have made a tremendous impact
on my life, and at a time when choosing the route to an ideal career becomes
the primary focus of your thoughts, the feedback I have received has unlimited
sentimental value for me.
Secondly, I'd just like to thank all the fellow Neopians who have taken
the time to Neomail me about my stories. I hope you have enjoyed reading them
as much as I've enjoyed writing them; Dragonmist in particular. And it's on
this note that I'd like to announce that Angel's adventures in the NSPA are
coming to a rather abrupt end, or will at least become a rarity. My reason for
this is simple: when I started writing, there were no other stories of this
genre anywhere that I could see in the NT. That was about June 2002, and nowadays
there are several stories of the same genre. I'm sure Mr Shankly must be getting
pretty sick of all the same stories, so I believe it is time for Angel to step
out of the limelight and hand it over to a certain cynical, white-haired spotted
sibling. She may return on the off-chance, if *Bleeper* begs her enough; but
it will, I must stress, only be on the off-chance. Adios, amigos. And thanks
for everything you've done.
Buckets of love,
Jenjen (26-7-85)
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