Voice of the Neopian Pound Circulation: 192,927,879 Issue: 670 | 21st day of Storing, Y16
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Worth Searching For: Part Eight


by cosmicfire918

--------

"Skoll, where are we going?"

     Pharazon trudged down the steep-sided forest path after his Werelupe mentor. Even filtered through a thick layer of clouds, the setting sun's light hurt the Faerie Draik's eyes at first, and he was surprised he hadn't turned into some sort of pale twisted wraith from living in the underground for so long. It was only a few days, but it already felt like an eternity to him.

     "Somewhere special, my boy. I think you've earned a break from your studies."

     Terra and Isengrim had been absent still at breakfast, but Suhel received a Weewoo from Isengrim, asking for a number of available Werelupes to meet him in Caxton Bank to transport goods back to the Burrows. Pharazon hoped that meant his owner would return soon. Even though they were not on the best of terms right now, he felt better having her around. And he wanted to show her how strong he had become.

     After lunch, in spite of Suhel's clear disapproval, Skoll had decided to take Pharazon on an excursion outside the Burrows. The rather unconventional entrance to the caverns, Skoll explained, was heavily warded and enchanted to open only for those who wore Werelupe-pack bones, so even if outsiders were to stumble upon the Burrows, they would not be able to simply stroll in.

     As Pharazon walked down the muddy woodland corridor, he began to see glimpses of stone among the twilit trees. Scattered blocks led to crumbled stacks, and then to ancient walls covered in brown vines. "What is this place?" he asked.

     Skoll tapped his staff on the ground and the skull's empty eye sockets started to glow with a warm orange light, illuminating their way. "It was a city, once, I think," he replied, leading Pharazon under a vaulted stone arch that ages ago could have been the top of a castle gate. "Long ago, before Meridell was a gleam in the eye of Skarl's ancestors."

     Tree branches reached out of windows, tiny vines scrolled around intricate patterns in the stone, and thick roots enveloped massive chunks of granite in their embrace. To Pharazon it looked almost like its builders had constructed around the trees, weaving the forest into the architecture, rather than the work of bygone Neopets being slowly returned to the earth by the forces of nature.

     "It's very pretty," he said.

     The Werelupe chuckled. "It is, but that's not what I wanted to show you. Look here."

     Ahead of them, tucked into a glen that the trees circled around like sentinels, sprawled what looked like a miniature metropolis of stones. Slabs of marble and weathered statues seemed to have been placed haphazardly in a maze of rusted iron fencing, lit by Fire Mote-powered braziers. A gauzy mist lurked among the bent old trees.

      On the risen land that surrounded the vale stood a ring of fully intact buildings with no windows and darkened doorways. They looked like tiny palaces—no. Mausoleums.

     "It's a graveyard," Pharazon breathed.

     "Very good, my boy. Come now, don't be afraid. It's really quite a peaceful place. There's a powerful magic that lurks here, preventing it from decaying at the same rate as the rest of the city."

     "Yeah, I can... I can taste it." The magic hung in the air, acrid and heavy, and it seemed to stick to the roof of Pharazon's mouth. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching them, either.

     "Just you wait, I haven't shown you the best part." The Werelupe led him up a set of rocky stairs to one of the crypts. Inside was a single room containing a heavy stone sarcophagus, as well as a few jars full of funerary offerings tucked into the corners.

     Pharazon held his arms. "What is this place, a cross between the Haunted Woods and the Lost Desert?"

     "The civilisation that built this may have been inspired by both lands." Skoll's staff thudded hollowly against the floor as he strode to the back wall. "Or, it may have inspired both lands."

     He moved his paw along the designs chiseled into the limestone and muttered a few unintelligible things under his breath. As he did so, the carvings swirled with green light, and after a moment the entire panel slid into the wall, forming a wide doorway into darkness.

     A chill ran up Pharazon's spine. Instinctively, he grabbed his tail. "W-we're not s-seriously going in there, are w-we?" As bad as the Burrows were, suddenly they seemed like Faerieland in comparison to this.

     Skoll smiled. "There's nothing in there that can hurt you. Just a few stray Spyders, and they keep out of the light. You trust me, don't you?" He stepped into the shadows, gesturing with his staff for Pharazon to follow.

     The Draik nodded and gave him a nervous smile in return. "O-of course." Pharazon didn't like Spyders, but after all of the kindness Skoll had shown him, Pharazon didn't want to be rude.

     Still clutching his tail, he trudged after the Werelupe. The wall slid shut behind them with an echo that rattled the back of Pharazon's head.

     "My boy, I'm about to show you something very few people have ever seen before." The skull-staff cycled up and down with Skoll's plodding steps as he led Pharazon down a ramp neatly squared off by blocks of limestone. The ancient masonry had lettering carved on it that hurt Pharazon's eyes to look at too long, even though he had no idea what it said. It was as though the symbols themselves held an archaic and powerful magic. The air smelled of magic as well, and dust and dryness. The heavy silence hurt Pharazon's ears, like it built up a pressure in his head.

     The passageway opened up into a chamber that made up in height what it lacked in floor area. Covering the walls were reliefs of various species of Neopets wearing ornate robes and headdresses, surrounded by more of the strange writing. Taking up the centre of the floor was a neatly cut pit, two metres in diameter.

     "Careful now." Skoll held out his staff to block Pharazon from approaching. "That's one hole you don't want fall into."

     "I don't want to fall down most holes," the Draik replied, fluttering his wings to get some height. The magic felt thickest here, and in the shaft's depths he thought he could see a pale green glow. Something about it was strangely nauseating and made being airborne difficult, so he settled back onto the stone floor.

     "Don't get too excited." Skoll edged forward, still guarding Pharazon with his staff. Some of the warmth in his voice had left, replaced by a terse and cautious edge. Pharazon wondered what was in here that would make even the confident sorcerer tense.

     As they neared the rim of the pit, Skoll set his staff firmly across Pharazon's chest. "Go ahead and take a look. But don't lean too far."

     The abyss seemed to stretch for fathoms, appearing somehow deeper than it looked. In spite of that, Pharazon could clearly see at the bottom, almost as though it was magnified by a giant lens, a churning, writhing mass of eerie green light.

     As it frothed against the stone, it looked almost alive. Focusing harder, Pharazon let out a sharp gasp and recoiled. The pallid tendrils slapping against the sides of the pit were actually ghostly arms and hands of a variety of Neopet species, that grasped limply at the stone before sliding back into the spectral swill. Faces surfaced and submerged like oil in soup, their features faded, stretched, and pained.

     Pharazon realised that the pressure on his ears was being caused by a cacophony of deep moans, so low that the sound barely registered to his hearing range and manifested mostly in the form of unearthly vibrations in the stone.

     "What is it?" he whispered, stepping away from the sight. All of the warmth in his body seemed to have been sucked out just by looking at it.

     "The Well of Souls." Skoll continued to gaze down into the pit, its ghastly light reflecting in his milky eyes. "It's a magical vortex that siphons life energy. The stronger the victim, the more energy the Well accrues."

     He sighed and took a step back. "I believe sacrifices were once performed here, Neopets of might offered to the Well to increase its sum power and make it available for the sacrificer's use."

     Pharazon felt ill. "S... sacrifices," he mouthed.

     Skoll didn't seem to hear him. "They're still down there. Mere phantoms now. Don't worry, they cannot get out. I don't want to imagine what might happen if they did."

     "You... you wouldn't throw anyone else in there, would you?" Pharazon's knees knocked together.

     The Werelupe chuckled and shook his head. "Of course not, boy! I discovered this place long ago, before even Isengrim's arrival in the area. It's fascinated me for quite some time and I find it a good place to meditate. I've even managed to decipher some of the inscriptions here. It keeps my mind nimble—one can only re-read books so many times, after all."

     Pharazon nodded. "R-right." He personally didn't see how anyone could like it here, but to each their own.

     Skoll's smile faded. He turned and leaned down to the Draik. "Pharazon. Do you want to know why I brought you here? Can you keep a secret?"

     "O-of course." Pharazon reached for his own tail again. "You can trust me, Skoll. I promise." Except for the time I disobeyed you to tell Celice where I was, he thought to himself cynically before shoving the thought out of his mind.

     The old sage drew a deep, haggard breath and glanced around. "I'm going to overthrow Isengrim."

     Pharazon's heart leapt. "I—I hoped so!" he gasped, clapping his hands together. "I mean, I had a feeling—"

     "Shh." Skoll put a finger to his own lips and smiled. "Yes, it's true. Ever since they took me in, I've been biding my time, waiting for the opportunity to strike and be rid of that barbaric nuisance for good. Once I have control of the pack, you and your owner can go free, and I can finally educate these beasts in the ways of civilised Neopets."

     "But what does the Well have to do with it?"

     The Werelupe clutched his staff behind his back and looked over at the hole, his ears perked. "Tomorrow is the full moon. It is also a lunar eclipse. From what I've gleaned from these inscriptions, I've been led to understand that this is when it will be most effective to summon the Well's power. With it, there will be no doubt who is the strongest in the pack, and the other Werelupes will pay obeisance to me, their new king."

     "A lunar eclipse..." Pharazon's gaze dropped. The fortune—he could just barely remember the words now, but it said something about shadows consuming the moon. It was another warning. About the Werelupe King? But the next line was something about spectres of the fallen rising. That didn't sound like Isengrim's style.

     Skoll reached over and gave Pharazon's shoulder a squeeze. "And I want my faithful apprentice by my side. I want him to be able to say that he helped rescue his owner. That he was worth something to her, after all. Will you side with me?"

     "Yes!" Pharazon shouted, clenching his fists and looking up at his mentor. "You're right! I'm not weak any more, and I'm going to prove it, to her and to everyone! And we have to get rid of Isengrim!"

     The Werelupe's dusty grey tail wagged. "That's my boy. Hold out your hands." He reached into a pouch on his belt.

     "Okay..." Pharazon's eyes widened as Skoll drew out a string of fangs and lowered it into the Draik's waiting claws. "For... me?"

     "You've proved your strength to me, boy. Go ahead and take off those idiotic knucklebones."

     "Gladly." Pharazon practically tore the bones off his neck and tossed them into the well.

     Skoll stiffened and his hackles rose. Pharazon wasn't sure why until he saw a few unnaturally long tendril-arms rise to meet the necklace in mid-air. A glob of paws, claws, and feathers enveloped the bones in an ectoplasmic cocoon and sunk back into the depths with it. For a moment the moaning increased in intensity until it made Pharazon's bones ache, and then it subsided down to its normal level.

     He swallowed hard. "Whoops."

     His teacher let out a nervous chuckle, his fur smoothing. "Now you see why I didn't want you getting too close."

     Pharazon took another few steps back from the Well and fastened the fangs around his neck. "Y-yeah." He thought finally wearing the coveted symbols of strength would make him feel better. Instead he just felt confused and sick to his stomach. He knew Terra wouldn't want this. But he wanted it. It was time for him to assert himself.

     "All right. I think I've put you through enough for today." Skoll used his staff to shepherd Pharazon back toward the corridor to the surface. "We ought to rest up a bit before dinner. Just think," he added, his fangs flashing in the light, "by this time tomorrow, the Burrows will be mine and you and your owner will be well on your way home."

     Pharazon managed a smile. "I can't wait—what was that?" He thought he'd heard a faint noise up the hallway.

     Skoll paused and narrowed his eyes. "A stray Karren, perhaps. It would not surprise me if they roost in here sometimes."

     The near-full moon was high as they exited the mausoleum and Skoll led the way back down into the graveyard. As Pharazon followed him, the Draik thought he saw something duck behind a large tombstone—he just barely caught a glimpse of curly black hair and small bits of white glinting in the moonlight. "D-does anything else come here?" he asked, his wings throwing out a shower of sparks. He wished the fangs would have automatically made him less skittish.

     "Just a few Petpets..." Skoll stopped and turned toward the grave marker. He frowned slightly and his tail rose, and he gripped his staff tighter. "Never mind it, Pharazon. Those who skulk around here would be wise not to do so, nor to meddle in the affairs of wizards. Let us return to the Burrows."

     He said nothing more for the duration of their return. They reached the Burrows without incident, but once or twice on their way Pharazon thought he saw green eyes glow in the trees.

     ***

     As Isengrim carried Terra through the tunnels to the commons cavern for dinner, a tremendously mouth-watering smell began to fill her nose. It was savoury and hearty, and although she couldn't quite place it, it made her even hungrier than she already was.

     She and Isengrim had returned from Caxton Bank earlier that night, along with a team of Werelupes who had brought back everything from Isengrim's "hunt" that the villagers could not use. The Werelupes were insistent on appropriating the skeleton for themselves, as they could eat the marrow and would use the bones for decoration, jewelry, and toolmaking. They also, unsurprisingly, enjoyed merely gnawing on the bones.

     Since Isengrim was wounded and could not take a very active part in things himself, and had a wounded owner to tend to, he spent the trip back giving her a tour of the woods. He showed her how the trees were beginning to bud, pointed out a family of Albats sleeping in the hollow of a tremendous old yew, and found some wild peppermint for her to taste.

     Now they were back at the Burrows, and it seemed like tonight's dinner was shaping up to be something different. As Terra began to hear the talking and laughing of Werelupes, Isengrim shifted her to one arm and covered her eyes with his paw.

     Chuckling nervously, she tried in vain to pull it away. "What are you doing?"

     "I have a surprise for you," he replied, sounding very happy about it.

     "I don't like surprises." The noise of eating surrounded them now and the aroma was thicker than ever.

     He sat her down, keeping his paw over her eyes. "It's okay. You'll love this one."

     When Isengrim restored her sight, the first thing Terra saw was a stack of flat, white, square boxes piled by the fire. She tilted her head in confusion until she saw that they had on their tops a picture of a moustachioed Blumaroo. Her face lit up. "No way!"

     "Do you like it?" Isengrim's tail wagged a mile a minute as he reached over and flipped open the lit of the topmost box, revealing a perfect cheese pizza. "I had it flown in from Neopia Central and kept warm with fire magic—I got you cheese, do you like cheese?" He picked up one of the hot slices and deposited it in her hands.

     "I love it! Thank you so much!" Terra bit into the pizza and let out a sigh of contentment as the flavour oozed into her mouth.

     "I thought it would be more familiar fare to you than what you have been eating lately." Isengrim opened up another box and pulled out a slice of Cheesesteak Pizza. "And I, too, enjoy it." In one bite, half of it was gone down his gullet.

     "Thanks," Terra said again, although the mention of familiarity stirred memories in her. She had fond recollections of going to Pizzaroo with her pets, of sitting in the window booth on rainy days, watching the passersby in Neopia Central while she was inside, warm and cozy. Blynn would play with the parmesan dispenser while Hyren tried to get her to cut it out and Pharazon attempted to lose himself in his book and look unrelated. The pizza got caught up in some tears in her throat and she gulped to push it down.

     He looked over at her. "Are you all right?"

     "I used to get Pizzaroo with my other pets..." Her lip quivered. "Oh, Isengrim, please don't keep me here forever. I'm trying to give you what you need, but—they need me too—"

     His shoulders slumped and he studied his own slice of pizza listlessly, picking at a pepperoni. "... I—"

     "Sire!" A Werelupe patted his shoulder as she strolled past with a thick slice of pizza. "Thank you for the most excellent supper!"

     He looked up at her and managed a smile. "You all did well today. You deserve this reward." He turned back to Terra and opened his mouth to say something else, but movement caught his eye. "Suhel! There you are, I was beginning to worry!"

     The second's posture was low, her ears tilted back as she slunk over to the fire and deposited herself next to him with a grunt. She stared into the flames, tapping her claws together restlessly. She smelled of night air and moist loam, and her long black mane of hair looked tousled from action.

     "What's got you in ill humours?" Isengrim took a pizza box from the pile, opened it to check its contents, and presented it to her. "This Steak and Egg Pizza ought to perk you up!"

     Her green eyes wandered to the protein-packed dish and lit up with hunger, and her ears perked. Without a word, she lifted the whole steak from its bed of cheese and ripped a bite out of it.

     "Are you okay, Suhel?" Terra asked.

     The female Werelupe glanced over at her and shrugged noncommittally, tearing off another chunk of steak. She froze in mid-bite as the familiar figure of a Faerie Draik approached. His head was held high, his fists were clenched, and he now wore a necklace of fangs.

     "Pharazon!" Terra sat up. Isengrim made no attempt to stop her as she embraced her Neopet. "You look like you're doing a lot better! Oh—and nice fangs!" She smiled. "I knew you could do it! How did you get these?"

     "I was strong," he replied. He shot the Werelupes a look like he wanted them to stop eavesdropping.

     Suhel snorted in response, biting into the steak rather menacingly as she glowered at him.

     Isengrim also frowned, seeming confused at the Draik's sudden change of rank without his knowing. "Did Skoll give those to you?"

     "Yes. I've been practising magic with him and he says I'm strong enough now to wear fangs."

     "Hm." The Werelupe King nodded. "All right, then." That appeared to settle the matter for him as he reached for another slice of Cheesesteak Pizza. "Congratulations. It is good to see you have cast aside your cowardice."

     "Thanks." The Draik tossed his head a little before turning his attention back to Terra. "Can we talk?" he asked in a low voice.

     "Sure, what's up?"

     He motioned with his snout to the Werelupes. "Away from them?" Isengrim was back to enjoying his meal, but Suhel continued to gnaw on her steak and glare at her Faerie ward.

     "I can't walk right now," Terra said. "My leg's still healing." She glanced over at Suhel, but the female seemed to have no intention of letting the two alone.

     "Oy, Suhel!" someone barked from across the cavern. "Come here a moment!"

     She hesitated, then shouted back, "Coming!" She gulped down the rest of her meat and cast one last warning glance at Pharazon as she rose to her feet and padded away.

     "One down..." Terra looked over at her Werelupe. "Isengrim, may I please speak to Pharazon in private?"

     He glanced at the two of them and nodded, getting to his feet. "Certainly. I will be at that fire if you need me." He pointed to a pit with an open space in the ring of Werelupes around it.

     As the Werelupe King padded away, leaving the two of them the only ones at the fire, the Draik leaned in close to his owner. "I've found a way to free us both," he whispered, his words nearly lost in the clamor of dining Werelupes around them. "Be ready. I'm going to rescue you."

     Terra gave him a confused look. "You serious? How?" The prospect of seeing Hyren and Blynn again lifted her spirits, but she wasn't sure she liked the look in Pharazon's eyes or the tone of his voice.

     Pharazon looked around warily, then back to her. "I'm going to get rid of Isengrim." He grinned. "Isn't that great?"

     Shock jolted through Terra's body and her jaw fell, followed by the rest of her expression. The pizza seemed to lump in her stomach. "Please don't."

     Pharazon's grin faded. "What? Why not? I'm not a weakling any more, Terra. I know how to use magic! I'm finally good for something!"

     She swallowed hard and shook her head. "Don't do this, the Werelupes need Isengrim. His fiefs need him. I don't want to handle this situation with violence and force. Having me here has helped Isengrim to heal. I'd much rather that than see him destroyed. I don't think he feels right about keeping us here anyway. I'm sure he'll let us go soon."

     A look of anger wrenched across Pharazon's face and he snorted, Faerie dust puffing out of his nostrils. "No—you need to face reality," he hissed. "He's a monster, he's never letting us go. I'm tired of sitting around waiting to be rescued. I'm getting rid of the Werelupe King, and unlike my siblings, I'm going to make sure he's gone for good this time."

     Terra sat back, a wave of anguish washing over her. She couldn't believe what she was hearing from the mouth of her own good-natured Draik. He seemed so... poisoned. "I'm begging you, don't. Use your magic to find a way to get in touch with Hyren and Blynn, let them know we're all right and we'll be home soon."

     "What would that fix?" Pharazon muttered. "I'm starting to think they don't really care about us, anyway. I was always a burden to them and—"

     "Ahem." From behind him, Suhel picked the Draik up by his tail. "Stop distressing His Lordship's owner."

     "Don't you tell me what to do!" Pharazon hissed. Nostrils flared, he cupped his claws and shot out a spark of magic at her.

     It hit her muzzle and she yelped in pain, turning her head aside as though she'd been struck and dropping the Draik. Although the magic had not left any injury, she clutched her snout with wide eyes and backed away from him, tail curled between her legs.

     He looked scared and guilty for a moment, but then his expression hardened again. "I'm going back to Skoll. Leave me alone, foul creature." Sticking his nose in the air, the Draik marched off through the forest of shaggy backs, fingering the fangs at his neck.

     Terra watched him go, running her hand through her hair. "Suhel... are you okay?"

     The Werelupe crouched in front of the fire, still cowering as she stared into the flames. "He... he attacked me..."

     "I'm sorry..." Terra had never seen the female so shaken. "I think it's because he felt threatened."

     Suhel glanced over at her. "Threatened?" She seemed deeply hurt. "I was just trying to look out for him..."

     "That's what I figured, Blynn treats him the same way." Terra smirked. "I know the signs of acting like a big sister when I see them." Her grin faded. "But that didn't give him any right to attack you."

     Footsteps approached. "Suhel?" Isengrim sat between the two and turned to his second. "What happened?"

     She looked up at him for a moment and then shook her head with a faint smile. "Just got into a spat, is all. Nothing to worry about."

     Terra realised that Suhel was trying to defend Pharazon from Isengrim's wrath. The human, too, didn't want anything bad to happen to Pharazon. Hopefully Skoll would keep his apprentice under his thumb. Terra began to regret allowing Pharazon to receive magical training. It seemed the Draik's head was getting too big.

     Isengrim nudged her arm. "Did I give you enough time with Pharazon?"

     Terra paused. For a moment she seriously entertained the idea of telling him. But she doubted the hulking Werelupe King would ever take Pharazon as a serious threat. It was also difficult to try to thwart what the Draik was planning because he wouldn't give Terra any details.

     Instead, she gave Isengrim an exasperated grimace. "He's being difficult."

     The Werelupe's ear flicked. "I suppose some things do not change so easily. Give him time. He may be just as stubborn as I am."

     Terra nodded. She sincerely hoped that would be the case, because Pharazon seemed completely resistant to her attempts to talk him out of doing anything. It was ironic how her meekest Neopet and the creature from her nightmares seemed to have switched places in that regard.

     Oh, well, she thought as she nibbled at the crust of her pizza slice. At least the food was good.

     She didn't hear any more from Pharazon for the rest of dinner. After she and Isengrim had eaten their fill, they swapped stories with other Werelupes – who seemed to never tire of hearing of their battle with the Monocerous – and listened to a few impromptu flute-and-howling performances. Then she picked up an armful of empty pizza boxes and he picked her up and a few more boxes besides, and they went to the kitchen.

     There, Isengrim set her down and disposed of the boxes in the furnace. Rather than come back for her immediately, however, he ducked into the larder.

     For a few moments all Terra heard was bowls clattering. "What are you doing?" she asked.

     "You'll see." He came back out with two bowls stacked in one paw and scooped her up in the other. In the top bowl was what looked like a gloppy black soup that smelled of charcoal. Terra hoped she wouldn't have to drink it.

     An immense skull with a pair of curved horns had been hung on the rocks above the staircase to Isengrim's grotto. It loomed menacingly, challenging anyone to dare walk under it and face the wrath of its hunter.

     "Nice décor," Terra said.

     "It is a welcome addition to my collection," Isengrim rumbled proudly.

     At the top of the stairs, he took her to a corner of the cave where a small space on the wall was blank. Gently setting his owner down, Isengrim put the bowls beside her and Terra realised that they were full of wet pigments, black and red.

     The Werelupe King sat down beside her. "I've been saving this space for you," he said, his tail wagging. "I looked forward to the day when I could have an owner to mark their place in my home." He gestured to the bowl of black. "Go ahead."

     Terra lowered her splayed hand onto the surface of the pigment, allowing it to coat the entire underside of her palm and fingers. Then she pressed it to the rock and pulled it away, leaving a human handprint.

     Isengrim did the same with his own paw, stamping his print beside hers. "There," he said contentedly. "Feel free to draw whatever you like here."

     Terra barely heard him. Her eyes were focussed on the two handprints. Only two. They weren't complete. They needed to be joined by a Grundo's handprint, a Zafara's pawprint, and a Draik's clawprint.

     An overwhelming sense of loss spread from her stomach up her spine and forced tears from her eyes. She turned her hand over and looked at the paint. This would never be home to her.

     Isengrim wrapped his arms around her. "What's wrong?"

     "I'm homesick," she admitted as she huddled against him. "I'm glad we're friends now, but... I miss my family."

     He blinked slowly. "...My actions lately have not been entirely in your best interests. I have tried my best to make this a home for you and I have clearly failed."

     "No, it's not... that's not something you have any control over. It's very nice here and I appreciate your kindness, but... I still need my family." She looked up at him. "Please, I just need you to let me be reunited with them. They can live here from now on for all I care, but I... I miss them so bad," she sobbed.

     Isengrim put his nose to her head and said nothing for a while. "...I am a selfish Werelupe," he said quietly. "Neopia has robbed me of so much, I feel entitled to take what I want. Sometimes that works, and sometimes... it does not." He pulled away and gently took off his owner's glasses, using a paw pad to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "I can't stand seeing you so sad. We will work something out, I promise." He placed a paw to his chest. "By my life, I will see you smile again."

     Terra reached out and patted his arm. "Thank you, Isengrim..." He was clearly avoiding the question as to whether or not he would ever let her go, but she could tell he was feeling torn about it. She had seen the great goodness he was capable of, though, and she trusted that he would make the right choice.

     Hopefully Pharazon wouldn't try anything stupid before then.

To be continued...

 
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Other Episodes


» Worth Searching For: Part One
» Worth Searching For: Part Two
» Worth Searching For: Part Three
» Worth Searching For: Part Four
» Worth Searching For: Part Five
» Worth Searching For: Part Six
» Worth Searching For: Part Seven
» Worth Searching For



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