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The Rise and Defeat: Ivy's Story - Part One


by basketballnsoccer25

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My story starts a long ways from here, so long ago that only a handful remember this dark and barren age. Nobody really wants to think about this period anyways. Everyone says that King Coltzan III was a wondrous king, do they not? And it is surely a fact. But there was a time where the king knew nothing about leadership and the rights of his people. There was a time when the King's mind was clouded from seeing. It was during this time when the King was blinded from all things around him that the Lost Desert had fallen into deep devastation and peril. Water was not clean and stampedes of bugs raided small and defenseless villages; many marketplaces that had been thriving with trade were desolate and empty. The people were aching of hunger and starving of thirst. They begged the King for aid in their great time of need, but Coltzan's ears were busy listening to the melodic notes coming from his harp players. Their weak and frail fists pounded on the walls of Sakhmet, but Coltzan could not feel the rumble. As the people famished, moaning and growing sick, Coltzan sampled many foods and ate with utmost pleasure. As villages were lit on fire by the scorching sun and desert heat, Coltzan could not smell the devious smoke. Blinded he was, from seeing what was happening to the great Lost Desert. His affiliates did not have the courage to tell the King about the recent horrible events, nor did they want to, fearing that he would blame everything on them, and cast them to exile. And so, for many years, the golden deserts were indeed 'lost' in deep depression.

     I lived among the poor peasants that resided outside the walls of the Sakhmet Palace. I was alone, poor, and most of the time thirsty or hungry; most of the times both. My clothes were made of filthy rags that had been with me for as long as I could remember. My mother and father had died when I was but a mere child, so I had to fend for myself at a very young age. I was a lonely Usul, wishing that my mother and father would just come back. All I had to remember them by was this little green gem which I kept in a leather pouch around my neck everyday. I remember when my mother had given it to me as a gift; her rather rough hands scraping my skin, but calming me; my father's soft chuckle as he watched me toss the gem into the air and catch it in my palm. I missed my parents, and often cried at night, clutching the stone and wishing; just wishing, that they would appear and wipe away my tears. One minute with them would make all the difference in the world.

     I did as much work around the Lost Desert as I could possibly handle, doing chores for the various tents, shops and stalls, in exchange for a meal and a safe place to rest overnight. I despised my life. I hated every little thing about it. It was boring, slow, and brutal. I didn't feel important or wanted in the world. Just like a grain of sand; useless and somewhat bothersome. I wished for so long that I could step inside the walls of Sakhmet and force Coltzan to see what was happening to the land. The people needed help, and in my eyes, so did he.

     Sweeping floors and greeting customers did not earn me any Neopoints, the thing that I would need if I was ever going to make my wish come true. The only way you could get inside the walls would be to pay a handsome fee, much too handsome for most - if not all - villagers. Occasionally, on good fortune, I would stumble upon a bag full of twenty Neopoints or so. I would pocket it away, hoping that one day I would have just enough.

     Sometimes on good days, I would take an alternative route to the place where I was headed, just to get a glance at the most fascinating shop in all of the deserts: Sutek's Scrolls. I had always wanted to take a peek inside the store, but you had to have some sort of money to be allowed in, almost like the Sakhmet Palace. I guessed that the shopkeeper didn't like people without money to be wandering around his store. I heard rumors that those who were lucky enough to get a hand on the scrolls would either become rich or be renewed with ancient wisdom, for the scrolls were priceless and filled with the knowledge of the past. I was deeply curious, and was determined to find out whether these rumors were true.

     One evening, when the sky was clear of clouds and sparkling with jewels, I had decided once again to pass by Sutek's Scrolls. The streets were almost empty, with the soft murmurs of fortunate villagers inside their homes. I expected the store to be closed, for it was after hours, but a dim candle flickered upon the window sill and shined a muted glow upon the road before it. Beside the candle was a sheet of large parchment hanging from the ceiling. I bent my face closer to the window, trying to make out the heavy words that were scrawled upon the paper.

     "Help Wanted" it read, the text glimmering with the candle flame. "Large Pay Provided."

     My heart leaped into my throat like lightning, so sudden that I basically shot into the air like a cork. Here was my chance, staring back at me in the face. Here was my opportunity to be rid of my wretched life. Not only would I be able to work in the shop that most pleased me, but I would also get paid a good amount of Neopoints. So long had I been waiting for this day come.

     I scrambled to the front door and rapped my knuckles rapidly on the hard wood. I heard a soft thump, and then some shuffling. The door opened slightly, just a crack, the light blinding my eyes.

     "What do you want?" a cracked voice rasped. A weary eye glared at me with much intensity.

     "I saw that there was work here," I replied boldly, not an ounce of fear in my throat. "Is that job still open?" The shopkeeper eyed me.

     "Yes," the voice croaked, "but, the job shall not be very easily earned."

     I gulped. "Uh, well," I spoke, trying to maintain my boldness, "what exactly must I do to obtain the work?"

     The shopkeeper eyed me once again, this time more suspiciously. "Come. Take a step inside." The door creaked open, pouring yellow light into the road. Before treading into the shop, I thought I saw a shadow dart away. I jerked my head and gazed down the dark street, but saw no movement whatsoever.

     I'm probably seeing things, I thought to myself. Hesitantly, I wobbled into the shop. I jumped when the door behind me shut with a slam, the breeze putting out the candle that had been burning on the window. It was stone quiet. A prickly feeling danced across the back of my neck as my eyes frantically searched in the darkness. I felt extremely uneasy, and backed up against the wall. This was a trap, I thought to myself.

     Suddenly, a burst of light filled the entire room, and almost took the sight away from me yet again. I held my arm up in front of my eyes to block the harmful rays. When my eyes adjusted, I felt like they had been damaged and were fooling me, for what I saw was deeply mesmerizing.

     Scrolls were everywhere, beautiful, delicate scrolls. They filled up the shop from top to bottom, wall to wall, like sand does in an hourglass. The floor was hidden beneath towers of papyrus; even the golden chandeliers that hung elegantly from the ceiling had scrolls stuffed in its solid arches. My eyes were as wide as the mouth of the Sakhmet River, and were curious too. I wondered how anyone could even walk among the scrolls when there was a large chance of damaging the ones on the ground.

     "Are you sure you are up for the job?" I turned around, looking at the shopkeeper for the very first time. She was an old Nimmo, wrinkled, with soft creases in her skin. A vivid blue hood was draped over her frail head, topped off with a brilliant red gem sitting on the top. She began making her way slowly towards me. Her posture and stance was furthermost perfect, and her feet seemed to glide as if they strode upon water. She practically walked across the strewn scrolls, barely crinkling the fragile paper.

     "Are you sure you are up to the job?" she repeated monotonously, gazing fiercely at me. I looked away, for I could not keep my eyes locked with hers. For the few seconds that I had glanced at them, I felt pain and deep sorrow within me. Something was just evil about them, but I just couldn't put my finger on it.

     "Oh, yes!" I replied, a broad smile on my face. "What must I do?" I glanced at the withered Nimmo, whose face remained expressionless.

     "Prove to me that you are worthy," she croaked. "Prove to me that you have more brains than the feeble minded."

     I gulped. "What must I do to show myself?"

     "Answer this riddle." A looked up at her, but that I found, had been a mistake. Her eyes glazed over with a fierce yellow, like a night beast ready to strike. I took a weak step backwards in fear. I blinked once, and when I looked again, her eyes were normal, as if nothing mystical had happened before. I honestly thought my eyes were tricking me now.

     "Answer this riddle correctly," she said, "and you may have the honor of working in Sutek's Scrolls."

     A shiver went down my spine. I wasn't good at riddles; never had a chance to talk to anyone decent enough to know any. "And, what if I answer wrong?"

     Her eyes narrowed. "Shame shall be brought upon the weak."

     Shame does not seem as horrific as she makes it sound, I contemplated to myself. After all, shame has almost become my obligation.

     "Alright," I braved. "What is this riddle of yours?"

     The Nimmo smiled, but not so soothingly to comfort my doubts. It was more of a menacing, teasing sort of grin.

     "Heavy burdens we carry, two brother are we, everyday we are harshly squeezed; But, I shall say, we are filled all day, and vacant when we are eased. What are we?"

     I stood there, staring at the old shopkeeper's lips, feeling my cheeks flush red as the words of the riddle rolled in my ears. My mind raced as I frantically searched for an answer to her game. I lowered my head and stared at the ground, ashamed, for my brain had not the answer. My eyes trailed to my feet, as they were cold against the floor. I mumbled out loud, "I dearly wish I had some shoes."

     "Wonderful." I tilted my head up. There was the old Nimmo, beaming not of an evil smile but of a warm and gentle kind. Her eyes glistened and sparkled blue, not of the raging yellow my eyes had told before. The voice she spoke was not cracked, but melodic and soft. There was just absolutely no way that the old Nimmo was a corrupt being as I had thought. Simply not a possibility.

     "Wonderful," she repeated again, clapping her hands together in joy. I was lost for a moment, unaware of what she was calling 'wonderful', but, as I thought it over, I had been in the stroke for luck. Although unintentionally, I had spoken the answer to the riddle: shoes.

     "You start immediately tomorrow morning at the break of dawn," the old woman spoke briskly, grinning all the way. "And do not be late! Only a fool to be late for me, that is."

     I could not help but smile brilliantly with the old Nimmo. It was truly a great milestone for my life. "Thank you very much - um, sorry, but -"

     "Sentia," she said. "Call me Sentia."

     I bowed. "Yes, Sentia, I owe you my life."

     "Oh, don't bother with that!" she said, blushing. "Now leave, I must rest. Do not be late!"

     "I most certainly shall not!" I turned and leaped out of the door, into the dark pathway. I was surprised to see blackness after being in the light for so long. My feet no longer ached as the sharp pebble stones bit my heels. The cold wind did not chill my bones as it wisped around me. Everything was wonderful.

     And as I hummed a sweet little tune while skipping under then crescent moon, blissful and excited as can be, the jewel resting in my leather pouch glowed and shined as iridescent as the moon. Perhaps, if possible, even more.

     ******

     The months went by quickly when I worked at the extraordinary Sutek's Scrolls. My hard work and effort caused me to get a very good sum of pay. And through many years of working with the scrolls, I gained tremendous knowledge. Stories I had read in these ancient scrolls brought me into an entirely different world. I read myths and legends of battle heroes waging war against the impossible odds and still rising triumphant. Soon, with all the fairy tales that I knew, I became a well known storyteller. I traveled from town to town, city to city, palace to palace, telling of my myths and legends. I transfixed my audience with my captivating voice and drew them into the world that I was in too. To see their faces in awe as the words 'The End' ring proudly in the air is most rewarding.

     After two and a half years of traveling the cities of the Lost Desert, I returned home to the outer walls of the Sakhmet Palace to finally stay. Things were even worse than I had left it. More looting and robbing was taking place, and more villagers were sick and hungry. I tried to aid the poor by donating some of my precious earnings, but that could only do so little. My anger towards Coltzan grew and grew, and I most wanted to go and choke him for all that he had done - or rather, all that he hadn't done. Although know I had the coins, Sakhmet Palace now would not let anyone in, due to tightened security. Frustrated I was, not liking that there was nothing I could do. However, that would take a turn for the better…

     On a nice and cloudy morning, when the sun was not as blistering as usual, I went out into the village circle and began to recite a story. As usual, the audience was amazed with the words that flowed out of my mouth. However, I had not noticed the carriage that had strolled into the circle while I was reciting.

     After the crowd had parted, and while I was collecting the valuables the villagers had offered me, one of palace guards approached. "The King would like to see you," he spoke without much emotion.

     "For what reason?" I eyed him suspiciously.

     "He wishes to have a talk. I believe he quite liked the story you told just a while ago."

     King Coltzan heard me? I thought to myself. Just the thought of Coltzan however, made me fume a bit. I kept control of myself however, and followed the guard as he lead me to a white and gold carriage.

     I assumed that the vehicle was there to carry me off to the palace for me to meet the King. I was surprised to see the King himself, grinning in his silk robes as he sat in the carriage. I bowed, and sat across from him on the golden lined cushions, silently shaking. Half of me was shaking because I was nervous, while the other half was trying to keep myself from clobbering him to bits.

     "King Coltzan, it is an honor to meet you." The words were hard to spit out, and I gagged immediately after. Despite my obvious disapproval, the King just smiled.

     "Welcome IvyAethia," he spoke with a low and cunning voice. "The pleasure is all mine."

     "You er, wanted to have a word with me?"

     ""Oh uh, yes," he said, clearing his throat. "Ahem, well, I wanted to say that I've never heard quite as good a storyteller as you. You made a simple tale sound magnificent."

     "Um, thank you Your Highness," I replied hesitantly, sensing that there was more.

     "Well, um, yes," he stuttered, his eyes glancing towards his left. "I was wondering if you would like to become a member of my highly esteemed court. Perhaps as the Sakhmet Storyteller." He paused, looking at me for a sign of a reaction, though I gave him none. "My court is in need of rebuilding, and I do not know very many wise beings as you. You would be an excellent addition."

     I remained silent and motionless. Again, I was put into a spin. The thought of working for Coltzan made me sick. It just didn't feel right to work for the king whom all despized. Yet, something told me that all had not been completely seen yet. What if I did happen to accept?

     "You'd have a wealthy pay," Coltzan added as if that was all that I cared about. "And you'd be treated with much respect and honor in my palace."

     Maybe, I thought, just maybe, I could turn things around.

     "Agreed." I extended my Usul paw towards King Coltzan. He stared at it as if I were threatening him with a fork, obviously foreign to the gesture, but quickly grasped it with his own paws.

     "Welcome aboard, IvyAethia!"

     ******

     For the next five months, I dwelled inside the walls of the Sakhmet Palace. It wasn't nearly as dreadful as I thought it would be. I met many interesting folk, learned quite a bit on various topics, and bonded new friendships to last. I came to realize that King Coltzan was not as cruel as I had thought him to be, but rather a kind and gentle Lupe. However, I saw that within his rule, nothing was being done to help the residents of the Lost Desert. This I could not understand. From what I had learned and observed, Coltzan was rather amiable and gracious. Such a neopet would not be doing what he was.

     One morning in the month of Relaxing, I approached Coltzan as he was talking a morning stroll in the palace gardens. He was whistling a rather catchy tune, I should add.

     "Good morning, Your Highness," I bowed as I greeted him.

     "Ah, yes, a beautiful day, isn't it, Ivy?" he replied cheerfully.

     "Most beautiful indeed."

     "So, Ivy, what brings you here?"

     "Oh, nothing really," I lied. "Just came for the sake of a good conversation."

     He chuckled. "Hehe, nothing wrong with a nice long talk, eh?" He held his paws behind his back. "Come, walk along my side! Let us have our talk!"

     I obeyed, walking by his side.

     "So, how are the commoners doing?" I asked slyly.

     The king chuckled once again, as if I had just told an amusing joke. "Why, they're wonderful of course!" he said. "As they have been for the past years that I have reigned!"

     Wonderful? I thought. They are everything but wonderful.

     "Why, if I hadn't closed the palace gates to outsiders, they'd all be rushing in to thank me!" he told.

     I felt rage climbing inside me. "Your Highness," I said, "with all due respect, I think they'd more likely be rushing in to inflict harm upon you."

     The king stopped in his tracks, bewildered and confused. "What do you mean?"

     "Coltzan, the residents of the Lost Desert are not doing as well as you think they are," I told with a bit of iritance in my tone. "In fact, their status would be judged more opposite."

     "Preposterous," Coltzan said, shaking his head in disbelief. "My advisors have been telling me that all is good and well!"

     "Well, I can tell you that they are most certainly wrong."

     Coltzan shook his head. "Ivy, I'm afraid you do not know what you are talking about. This matter is -"

     "Don't you dare tell me that I don't know what I'm talking about!" I shouted, face red with fury. I gazed fiercely at him, the anger that I had held back so long finally bursting out. "I've seen the commoners suffer! Their ghastly faces of longing and despair are enough to break you down into tears! I know what you've done, and certainly what you haven't done!"

     Coltzan now looked at me in a stern way. "Ivy, I advise you not to lose control," he spoke in a low tone. "The commoners are fine."

     I unclenched my fists, knowing that I wouldn't go anywhere by shouts and screams. "My apologies, Your Majesty," I spoke, head lowered. "I am sorry for acting so rudely."

     "It is forgiven," he replied, nodding his head. "We all have our bad days. But, I must ask, what is that cause of your judgment that tells you the commoners are doing poorly?"

     I looked straight into Coltzan's eyes, making sure that he would take in every single word that I was about to speak. I knew that what I said now would determine the next future events and the survival of the Lost Desert.

     "Your Highness," I began, "I have been living as a commoner for a great deal of my life. For those years that I have not been, I have been trying to lend a hand to those unfortunate ones. But, what I can do is very little. I cannot make the sparse clouds in the sky rain put out the burning fires that the desert sun has caused. I cannot feed entire towns and villages for my pockets are not as deep. And, though I am one of the finest storytellers in the Lost Desert, I cannot liven the spirits of the villagers as their losses are much too great."

     I could see - no, feel - Coltzan understanding as his face changed expressions. Though I am a storyteller with many words, I have yet to describe his reaction, for no words of any language can quite define it.

     "I am a horrible king," Coltzan said, shaking his head in shame. "How could I have not been aware of this? I shall resign early tomorrow morning."

     "Coltzan, you are not a horrible king," I spoke, doing my best to comfort him. "You are just one that has been blinded with a black blanket over your head. You can change and fix all this. Resigning will only leave you with a heavy heart and doom for the people. You must try, Coltzan, for your sake - and for the Lost Desert."

     "But," Coltzan began, "I am not sure of what to do."

     "Your Highness, the traits of wisdom and kindness flow in your veins." I smiled. "You will find a way."

     Coltzan still did not look convinced. His eyes wandered towards the ground, staring at his sandle-encrested feet. I could sense his uneasiness.

     "Please," I said, "ride in your elegant and bold carriage into the small villages and speak to your people. Let them guide you into your future years of rule."

     And for the first time in so many barren years, the dark and heavy blanket that had shielded the King's eyes was now lifted. What became of the blanket, I do not know, but it had certainly vanished into thin air, along with the horrid disease it carried.

To be continued...

 
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