The Ghost Story Challenge

     “What was that?” asked the Acara, her nose twitching.

     “It’s probably just the wind,” the Blumaroo responded as the gust picked up once again.

     The Techo turned to face his comrade, his brows knitted. “A howling wind, Rohane?”

     “Maybe?” The Blumaroo shrugged as his hand hovered over his sheathed sword. “Either way, Velm, it’s nothing we haven’t fought before. If it’s a monster, we’ll take it down together. It’ll be good practice for the threats that we’ll be facing in Faerieland.” Even as he said this, though, his ears spun liked radar detectors seeking a signal.

     The chilled Acara shuddered before scrunching down and warming her paws by the fire. “If you say so...”

     Meanwhile, a tall green Eyrie in leather armour was backing out of a brand-new canvas tent and removing some supplies, including a woollen blanket. She laid the rations between Rohane and the Velm before wrapping the blanket around the shivering Acara’s shoulders. As soon as the warm layer reached her fur, she immediately relaxed and muttered a “thanks, Talinia.”

     Talinia nodded. “You’re welco—"

     “You’re going to catch the Sneezles, Mipsy.” Velm clucked his tongue as he did when he worried about his teammates. “I can heal most things: physical damage, bites, even memorization, but the common cold? That one has me stumped.”

     “I know, I know…” sighed Mipsy, before giving a sincere smile to Talinia. “It’s a good thing at least one of us is looking out for the team, right?”

     Velm puffed out his chest. “You’re welcome, everyone.”

     Rohane merely rolled his eyes while Talinia let out a soft sigh.

     “Just in case, everyone,” the white Blumaroo said, fixing his gaze towards the dark woods, “we should take turns keeping watch tonight.”

     Mipsy sprung up, nearly knocking the blanket off her shoulders. “Wait, I have a better idea!”

     “Yeah?” asked Velm with interest. “Like playing songs with Lucy?”

     “No,” shot Rohane. “No singing. Not this time.”

     The mage threw her paws into the air. “Guys! Guys. Come on, let me finish.” Velm deflated, already half-way to removing the lute named Lucy from his pack. “No, not singing,” the Acara made a cutting motion with her paws, “we all know how that went down.”

     “Unfortunately.” Rohane burrowed his face into his hands.

     Previously, the crew had found out about Rohane’s hidden talent for music—a talent not even Rohane realized he had. He hated every ounce of it. Despite his otherwise strong exterior, an air of confidence and knack for leadership, he had crippling stage fright. Thankfully only his crew knew about his talent as a baritone—well, that and the tavern guests at the “Shady Sepulcher.”

     “How about we tell spooky stories instead?”

     “Spooky stories?” Talinia chuckled as she found an open seat and nestled in. “You’re in luck. I’m pretty experienced in that category. It helps when you have 10 siblings to entertain.”

     “And even as an only child, I love a good scary story.” The Techo rubbed his hands together before rummaging through his pack. With the care of someone handling a babe, he gently cradled the lute. “Lucy can be my accompaniment.”

     The trio turned to Rohane expecting his support, but instead he shrugged impassively. “Go for it. These sorts of things don’t really scare me.”

     Biting her lip, a devious grin spread across Mipsy’s face, enough that even Talinia gave a baffled chuckle.

     “Is that…” steepling her paws, Mipsy looked straight at Rohane, “a ghost story challenge?”

     The Blumaroo kneaded his forehead with his sword hand before muttering, “sure.”

     “Excellent.” Swinging the blanket around her shoulders, she lowered her voice to a deep, rumbling alto. “Then gather ‘round, my friends. I have a scaaaaary story to tell you!” She added a ghostly wail, which Velm immediately harmonized with… or attempted to, anyway. While she spoke, the Acara wandered behind them, swinging her arms around as if she were a wild spectre.

     “It was a daaaaaark night in the Haunted Woods…” she bent down just to Rohane’s ears before lowering her voice to a hoarse whisper “just like this one.” Rohane responded with a stifled yawn. “There was a brave and beautiful mage wandering the glade alone with only a lantern to guide her. Will-o’-wisps hung in the air and floated around—”

     “Was this mage, by change, a blue Acara?” Winking as he said this, Velm deftly avoided a shove. “Nice try, ghost!”

     She continued on after sticking out her tongue at the Techo. “As I was saying, it was just as she approached an old cottage in the woods that a stiff breeze ripped the light from out of her lantern. Before she could use an elemental spell, a giant, darkened figure said”—she jumped in front of Rohane—“GET OUT of my swamp or perish!’”

     Rohane winced and held his hands over his sensitive ears, glowering as he did. Meanwhile, Velm wiggled in his seat uncomfortably.

     “So, the girl kept running—running as fast as she could. With every step the monster grew closer. And Closer. AND CLOSER!”

     “Eep!” Before the Techo could cover his mouth, the three heroes turned to him. His eyes were wide and he was biting at his finger. “I’m not scared,” he asserted, “so, go on. W-what happened to the girl?”

     Noticing Velm’s fear, Mipsy crept up to him. “They never found her. Some say she escaped to a nearby village.” Nodding, the Techo seemed to like this answer. “But others think… THE MONSTER GOT HER!”

     The Techo gasped, nearly falling off of his log. Conversely, Talinia gave a polite clap and Rohane balanced his face on his fist, eyes glazing over. It was as if she lectured him about accounting instead of regaling him with a scary story.

     “Reuben used jumps scares on me constantly, Mipsy. You’re going to have to try harder than that to frighten me.” As if to make a point, Rohane flicked his hand towards the team’s healer, who jumped back on instinct.

     “T-that wasn’t too b-b-bad,” said Velm, despite his shaking voice. “Now,” he cleared his throat, “let me show you how a bard from the Lost Desert tells a tale.”

     He strummed Lucy the lute as his base voice swept through the notes.

     Let me tell you a tale of the graverobber’s folly, the adventurer’s greed, the Tomb of Apkali...

     “There once was a pharaoh by the name of Apkali, his riches aplenty caught the eyes of his rivals. They thirst for his wealth, for his land, for his power, and set out to steal it for themselves and their kin. A merciless struggle in the Great Dunes arose—the brave pharaoh’s men clashed with the folk of another. His rival, a ruler of far less renown, his name inspired fear: Antiqam.” Velm played quick, harsh notes, all of which were clashing. “The two fought for days to no avail. By the time the war ended, both rulers had failed. The pharaoh lay wounded beyond healer aid and his rival lay now in a shallow-marked grave.”

     The bard gave a dramatic throw of his cape.

     “But this, my dear friends, is but a prelude to what’s to come.”

     Unlike Mipsy’s story, which barely caught the swordsman’s attention, Rohane listened with interest.

     “Ever since the deceased manifest in heat shimmer, in breath on a cool desert night, in a glimmer. But most of all in the eyes of those fools who pilfer…” after strumming the lute he let the note waver in the air “the tomb… of Apkali.”

     Just as Talinia went to clap heartily for her teammate he waggled his finger. “Now, Talinia,” he said in his best showman’s voice, “you know a good story isn’t over until the bard sings his refrain. Hold your applause for now.”

     Making circular waves with her hand, she motioned for him to continue.

     “Now enter our adventurers, a tough pair of twins, who seek all the glory that treasure might bring. At the behest of tomb raiders, a pair that do claim that they’ve seen the best treasure and with a team, they can gain. The two raiders, a Shoyru and Eyrie, adept at the art of evading the traps—the tricks that promise young fools a quick end. The four of them travelled with haste to the place where the pharaoh was laid to an early rest. Upon entry, the twins could have sworn that the eyes of their guides had a glimmering sheen.”

      At this point, all three of them listened with rapt attention. It was well known that Velm had been a travelling bard before he became their fourth and final member. His healing magics impressed a significant number of Neopians, but his musical talents, despite the occasional flatness in his voice, caught the ears of any who would listen. It had come to a point where any repeat tavern visits would undoubtedly make for a night of merriment—for the tavern folk, that is. Rohane muttered about his poor sleep schedule but learned to tune out the cacophony if he wanted to have any shut-eye at all. It didn’t help that Mipsy would start group dances with whoever would join.

     “Upon their arrival to the set-upon place…” Velm made a dramatic pause, “all lanternlight died, except for a trace. All that was left was the torch of the twins who held it in fear as the dread then set in.

     ‘How grateful we are that you came here today,’ came the tomb raider’s voice, their eyes an ethereal glow.

     ‘How grateful indeed,’ hissed the other, ‘for you see, we too had delusions of grandeur, of thoughts of great wealth that would suit us forever.’

     The twins then begged truly to spare them their lives as the two ghoulish creatures delighted in their cries. For you see, they croaked plainly, we two have been trapped. Cursed by the ghosts who inhabit this place. Eternal guardians now are we, luring those to their doom … in the tomb of Apkali.”

     He took a deep breath and stiffly exhaled, swaying as if a shifting dune. “The wind of the desert blows fiercely. It swallows up those who don’t heed its tales.” He lifted his voice in song once again:

     Let me tell you a tale of the graverobber’s folly, the adventurer’s greed, the Tomb of Apkali...

     Bowing as he finished, the crew gave hearty words of encouragement and applause. Mipsy clapped Velm on the back, causing the bard to blush.

     “Who knew you were such a good storyteller, Velm!” she said.

     He shrugged, trying and failing to downplay his joy. “Well, someone had to bring in money for the household and that someone… was me.” Now that his story was completed, he spun around and crouched down to Rohane’s face. The Blumaroo instinctively pulled away from the close contact.

     “Feeling… scared?” sang Velm. “Terrified?”

     “None of the above,” replied Rohane, “but I enjoyed it. You’re entertaining to watch. I more or less guessed the twist before you announced it, though.”

     Velm’s face sank. “I’ll have to try harder next time, then. Talinia, it’s all up to you now.”

     Before Talinia could open her beak, a shrieking howl pierced through the woods. It echoed in the distance, still far away, but made a shiver run down their backs.

     “We’ll remain on stand-by,” said Rohane, his fist tightening on his hilt. “Be ready if need be to defend ourselves. For now, we stay awake by any means necessary.”

     “R-right,” echoed Velm as he scuttled over to his staff and clutched it tightly. “Any means necessary.”

     “I’m ready whenever.” Talinia donned her quiver filled with freshly sharpened arrows and held her bow in her lap. “Myths don’t frighten me. They’re the stories I told my siblings to make it through the long winter. The true terror…” she took a deep breath and waved her hand towards the star-filled sky, “is when the unknown is real. When the unexplainable happens… and it happened to me.”

     Rohane took a cursory glance towards his teammate as he fixed the fire. Like before, he appeared unfazed, barely changing his facial expressions at either of the past tales.

     “It had been over a decade ago just outside my village of Frostmore, a good 8000ft up on Terror Mountain. Unrelenting winds battered our cabin as feet of snow piled around too high to see the outside world.”

     Mipsy shivered at the thought and pulled her blanket even tighter.

     “As you all know, I belong to a large family. Making it through the long winter alive takes creativity… and proficiency with a bow. When I was young, my father did most of the hunting—he was an excellent hunter, too—taught me most of what I know. That is, until he was gravely wounded by a monster and lost a leg. He’s still alive, thank goodness…” the nostalgic smile ran from her face, “but by the time I was 15-years-old, I was the one providing most of our sustenance. And even with our conservative rations, food was running short. Seeing my younger siblings with rumbling bellies and tears in their eyes, I decided to brave the storm alone. My brother Quill, four years my junior, had other ideas. He insisted on coming along, going so far as to hide my bow until I relented.”

     A whirlwind of leaves brushed by the crew and spun into the unknown. This caused Talinia’s hunting cap to fly off, but she grabbed it mid-air and held it at her side.

     No longer satisfied with her blanket alone, Mipsy squeezed against Velm. At first, he responded with annoyance, then eventually relented, letting her lean against him with borrowed warmth. The mage, after all, clamped on harder than a moehug and proved difficult to pry off when worried or scared… or, in this case, cold.

     “Being my little brother, he always wanted to best me and had a bit of a competitive streak.”

     Velm added a quick whistle as he motioned his eyes towards Rohane. Not missing a beat, Rohane quipped, “to be fair, I am better with the sword. Not that it’s a contest or anything.”

     The archer chuckled as her face darkened. “But on this day… I could have lost him.” This caught everyone’s attention. They eyed her with concern as she tightly gripped her bow. “I should have said ‘no,’ I should have stopped him, but I let him run on ahead into the raging white.”

     “But he survived, right?” asked Mipsy, clinging so tightly that the Techo wheezed.

     “Yes, but at the time… all seemed lost. I called out for his name. At first with annoyance that he would dart on ahead, then with concern… and then with dread. Why wasn’t he responding? In a panic, I ploughed through the snow, calling his name but hearing nothing but the relentless, screaming wind.” Her voice grew shaky as a tear fell upon her bow. “I feared that he was gone. I couldn’t accept that—I couldn’t.”

     His voice laced with concern, Rohane said, “this is clearly upsetting you. Do you want to be telling this story? We can—”

     “No.” Ears flattened and eyes sparkling with tears, she continued. “Even with my wilderness training, the cold had taken its toll on my body. I thought that I could hear the sound of a little child playing in the snow. It was too grey, too blustery to clearly see the figure, but I followed it, compelled by the voice. In its direction, a wave of rainbow-coloured light flashed across the sky. But when I reached its source… I found a stone.”

     “A… stone?” Mipsy released Velm from her vice grip long enough to pose the question. Using this opportunity, the Techo shifted over to Rohane’s bench and gave him a shy wave.

     “Yes,” she replied softly. “It was a grave marker… for a young Chia that had perished some years ago. Even though the snow was piled around me, this one place looked remarkably clear. And behind this stone… was my brother.”

     Velm and Mipsy gasped in unison, then looked towards their leader expecting a similar response. He instead knitted his brows and looked to be deep in thought.

     “Quill’s blue body was half-buried in snow and gripping a small pile of game like a prize. I shook him gently. No response. I put my head to his heart and could feel it weakly beating…” The guilt and shame were written all over her face. “I hoped for a miracle. I reached down to scoop my brother up as a flash of light, of purples and greens, danced before my eyes. And in the midst of this light I saw the shape of a Chia… and then… darkness.”

     Velm leaned in closer. “Well? What happened?”

     “I woke up in a strange house. A blue Chia from the neighbouring village of Chia Obscuro had seen us in the snow and mobilized his town to help us. We owe our lives to them.”

     “Did you get their name?” asked Rohane. “If so, we’ll have to thank them the next time we go there.”

     “No. I couldn’t understand their language. Even so, I could see the kindness of their actions.” Her hand fiddled with the bowstring on her lap. “As for Quill? One of their Shamans restored his health through healing magic. They pointed to a painting of glowing lights and waved their arms in imitation. Although I don’t know for sure… I think that little Chia child… saved us. I can’t really explain it, but when I saw this figure, I felt a sort of warmth that washed over me. It could have been the frostbite, but… I think we were saved by a ghost.”

     Velm shivered in response.

     In contrast, Rohane placed his hand on Talinia’s shoulders. She looked up at him, trying and failing to force a happy face. “I’m glad you’re both okay. More than anything, that’s what matters. I may not be an older brother, but if anything happened like that to Reuben… I’d be scared, too.” The thought crossed his mind, and it made him feel cold inside. “Anyway, let’s start cooking—”

     “Egads, it lives!” a deep voice echoed in the distance.

     All of them drew their weapons without a thought.

     “Ready?” said Rohane.

     “Ready,” the three echoed, preparing for battle.

     Instead of a monster, a shaggy brown Lupe stumbled into their camp. Tattered Neovian garments clung to him. Deep circles lined his eyes and his matted fur was filled with twigs and leaves.

     “You all,” he said as he fell to his knees and fought to speak between pained breaths. “Help me!”

     “Uhh, how?” replied Rohane as Velm rushed in to use a healing spell. “What happened?”

     Between his coughs, the short-haired Lupe spoke. “I was jumped… by a wretched thing!”

     “A thing? We’ll, uhh, take care of it,” Talinia said. “You rest up here.”

     The Lupe shook his head. “No, you fools! You must soothe it with sound… With music!”

     This caught Rohane by surprise. “Music?” he repeated, completely dumbfounded. “Well, you’re in luck. Our healer is also a bard.”

     Now that the healing spell had revitalized the Lupe, he sat upon the ground. “No, no! You need a baritone! It is tradition. You need a baritone.”

     Rohane shook his head at the absurdity of it all. “I see what’s going on here,” he said, chuckling darkly as he did, “this is all a set up. There’s no possible way that—"

     Talinia looked him dead in the eyes. “Rohane. I’ve never met this Lupe in my life.”

     “Nor have I,” echoed Mipsy. “I’d remember him if I did.”

     The bard huffed. “Do you think we’d go so far as to hurt a Neopian for the sake of a prank?”

     A wave of anxiety waved over the Blumaroo as he smoothed his hairs down with his hand. “But why does it have to be me?”

      “Quit wasting time.” He pointed his finger with his mouth agape. “Especially you, ‘SINGING SWORDSMAN!’”

     Rohane groaned in frustration and wrung out his hands on his mail. “How has that name already stuck?”

     The Lupe scoffed as if such a question was nonsensical. “Your name travels. You are ‘The Singing Swordsman of the Shady Sepulcher.’ Likewise, address me as Zeams.”

     Rohane threw his hands into the air. “Fine. Fine! But tell nobody about this, Zeams.” His breath became rapid as his heart pounded against his chest. “Let’s just get this over with.”

     Waiting until she thought she was out of earshot, Mipsy turned to Velm and whispered, “I think we found the thing Rohane’s scared of most—music-loving monsters.”

     “I am NOT scared!” he shouted back, his ears both pointed in their general direction. Mipsy jumped two feet in the air, almost knocking into Velm. The others spaced themselves away as Zeams pointed out the den of the howling creature.

     Zeams skulked to their front and invoked the following: “Gaze not for long, heroes… it dwells.”

     From inside the cavern they could hear the sounds of snarling.

     With a defeated sigh, Rohane asked, “okay, what is this tune?”

     Zeam’s lips twitched as a tune seemingly poured from his mouth. “It is thus.”

     The Blumaroo crossed his arms. “And if you know it, why aren’t you singing it?”

     “My voice conjures crying fits from babes. You shall succeed, I hope.”

     “You hope?!” shouted Mipsy, causing the beast to roar. “Oops.”

     It tore through the tunnel, beelining for Mipsy with its claws drawn. Tightening his fist, Rohane sang the tune:

     Rest now, to sweet slumber gate do you go. Rest now, find peace now, and find your way home.

     The monster, a grotesque Ogrin with bloodred eyes, talons, and jagged fur, smacked its toothy lips together as its eyes blinked, unfocused and distant. It fell to the ground with a thud, snoring as it rolled over like a harmless petpet.

     Velm poked it gently with his staff as it dozed on. “’It’ll be good practice for the threats that we’ll be facing in Faerieland,’ huh?”

     “I hope there’s nothing like that again. I swear,” Rohane rubbed his temples, “the world is conspiring against me.”

     “It’s a good thing that Zeams was—”

     But he was nowhere to be found. Instead, there lay a letter from an “Arthur A. Zeams” that read, “you have brought tranquillity where there was once cacophony and caterwaul. From the sounds of ‘The Singing Swordsman,’ you honour my soul. Those of the Sepulcher wish they had a private performance. May your soul one day find honour in those walls. Ethereally yours, Z.”

     “Now that’s a ghost story,” said Mipsy, shocked to see Rohane visibly shaking.

     “Ghosts are spreading the word about my singing?” Rohane’s face blanched as Velm helped to steady him. “That’s… terrifying.”

     The trio traded glances. “I think that’s enough spooky storytelling for one night,” said Talinia. “Let’s get you back to the tent.”

     And without another word, the crew travelled to their resting place, knowing full well that they had witnessed a real-life ghost story—one scary enough to shake the unflappable Rohane. After then, they vowed only to tell ghost stories that would thoroughly unfaze their leader.

      The End.