Caution: Quills may be sharp Circulation: 94,333,932 Issue: 184 | 1st day of Eating, Y7
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Rad'emant Tineela: Part Three


by dragonfate

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The wind whisked by them, as the friends ran impetuously through the forest. Their faces glowed in fervor. As they approached the plains, the sky became overcast with dark ominous clouds, and thunder struck imminently.

     "No! We're too late!" Rosie yelped.

     Everyone at Rad'emant Tineela was cursed to stone, cursed to face all the ages of the world. They stood helpless and unmoving.

     "Job is finished, boss," Foogar the shadow Skeith reported.

     "You both did well... It's a shame there is no other way to convince King Ronim to hand over those scrolls," Galcron gloomily remarked.

     "Look at it this way, boss... They make good decorations for your home." Oothar gave a toothy grin.

     "Right...We must be going," Galcron prompted.

     "To the Haunted Woods!" The Skeiths clamored in unison.

     The wind swirled into a haze of vertigo that covered the plains of Rad'emant Tineela. And in an instant all the cursed people of Rad'emant Tineela were gone.

     Thomas ears pricked up, as he heard the clamorous voice. The overwhelming diffidence grew to faith and determination.

     "Where did they go?" Davie shrieked.

     "Get up! We're going to the haunted woods," Thomas prodded, pulling his friends from the ground.

     "What hope is there, Thomas? We can't hope to beat this thing, this orb..." Damian despaired, burying his face between his knees. "...The extent of its power is shrouded in ambiguity. Our resolve is paltry, " he added piteously

     "So we sit and rot and succumb to fear?" Thomas scorned. "Now in this most urgent time Damian will your courage sway amidst the harsh winds of evil?"

     Damian believed Thomas to be right. How could he, how could anyone cower in some hole in a situation like this. The Scorchio gazed at Thomas eyes which now burned with an impregnable fire. His respect for the Lupe grew at the sight of his impervious valor.

     "You're right...Vagabond," Damian said sarcastically. "I'll follow you to whatever end, Thomas."

     Thomas grinned and pulled his new friend to his side.

     "We'll finish our bout when this is over," Damian teased.

     "Yes, we'll leave the mending of hurt pride for another time, Damian," Thomas chuckled. "We have some packing and planning to do. We'll gather at my house

     ****************

     The friends gathered around the table and scrutinized the map of the haunted woods, hoping to find strategic points from which to contrive an advantage.

     As William bustled about the kitchen, he packed food and drew charts to balance the rations.

     "Where exactly in these woods does this Galcron dwell?" Davie inquired

     "He will find us." Thomas recondite answered produced a quandary in his friends minds.

     But then what? Thomas wondered, 'Do I lead my friends boldly into the convoluted realm of the Haunted Woods hoping to fight a -what seems to be- vain battle?'

     The discouraging thought led Thomas to an inevitable dilemma. He was either to embark on a doomed odyssey, or be deterred by obscurity, and remain in Jasmine Blithe.

     Profuse uncertainty now dwelled in Thomas, marring his plans to save the people of Meridell. His jovial face shifted virulently.

     "Thomas...Are you okay?" Damian asked.

     "Leave me alone!" Thomas wailed and flailed his arms around, knocking over a plethora of books that were placed on the table.

     The friends held Thomas to the ground, struggling to hamper their friends' scabrous outburst.

     The Lupe's frenzy came to a brisk halt. Thomas mood shifted to exuberance with what he saw before him.

     A book entitled "Account of J. Millard" lied open on the floor.

     "I'm okay...You can let go now," Thomas prompted.

     He scurried over to his father's diary, sifting through it anxiously, coming across the last entry.

10th day of Gathering

     Tomorrow is the long awaited day, the day of festivities and reckless reveling, the day we go to Rad'emant Tineela. More to me then that, after the marvelous day, I will read this account of my deeds to my son, my dear Thomas whom I know will follow in my footsteps.

     Tears streamed down Thomas' face. He couldn't believe his father broached the acknowledging of his future.

     "I'm sensing another hissy fit," Damian warned, half jokingly.

     "Who's going to placate him this time? Won't be me... I'm too good-looking to risk being punched in the face," Bill mused.

     He continued to sift through the pages, until he came upon a strange entry. The page had a large rune embedded in it; even more curious was the entry.

5th day of Sleeping

     I learned much during my stay at Lord Bishram Bam-Roo's. His philosophical ideals about the world were both intriguing and intricate.

     He gave me this rune of teleportation in the case that his help and council would be dire.

     At the whisper of these words, the runes power shall be unleashed.

     Hum da Roo,

     Isle da Roo,

     Levme da Roo,

     Hum da Bishram Bam-Roo.

     "What is that, Thomas?" Davie queried, scrutinizing the letter.

     "The place for the answers, the place for help," Thomas replied enigmatically. "Everyone gather around! I know this is going to sound weird, but... Read this aloud," Thomas goaded anxiously.

     "What are you scheming, Millard?" Damian inquired with a hint of accusation in his tone. "First you have your temper tamptrum, now you beseech us to read this incoherent-"

     "Just read it on 3." Thomas nodded to his friends as a sign to trust him.

     "1,2,3!"

     Hum da Roo,

     Isle da Roo,

     Levme da Roo,

     Hum-da Bishram Bam-roo.

     "Now what? Davie asked.

     "Maybe if we try agai-"

     The words were caught in Thomas throat, as the room become lost in a gloomy haze. The friends were borne aloft helplessly on a recondite vertigo. Where were they headed? They could not tell. The feelings of uncertainty that consumed them could not be omitted.

     The dizzying haze faded into the air, and they found themselves inside a large wooden room.

     "We made it..." Thomas sighed in relief, and a large grin from ear to ear crept on his face.

     "Thomas! Where are we? What in the blazing Blumaroos are we doing here?" Rosie yipped.

     "Not really sure..." Thomas replied, his grin still wide.

     "Might I relieve your doubts regarding your whereabouts?" came a calm and jovial voice. "By the way, I'd really think twice before speaking any ill of Blumaroos.

     Into the room stepped in a large fire Blumaroo who was clad in a black robe and a red cape, on his head sat a long pointy hat.

     "And who are you?" Rosie asked impertinently.

     "I am the owner of the property of which your presences stand on." The Blumaroo's tone grew sterner. "By name I'm called Bishram Bam-Roo, master wizard of Roo Island."

     "Roo Island?" Rosie snorted defiantly. "Where in the blazing Blumar-"

     Thomas cupped his hand on Rosie's mouth. He could not suffer Rosie to upset the only person who could help them.

     "I'm sorry, Lord Bam-Roo! Please excuse my friend's impudence." Thomas dipped into a low bow.

     Thomas noticed the pensive look on Bishram's face. He thought the Blumaroo meant to strike him. There was a long uneasy silence. Bam-Roo's eyes unrelentingly scrutinized Thomas as if he searched for some eluding answer. Finally the wizard broke away from his reverie.

     "Young master... By any chance are you Astheleum's squire?" Bishram pointed at the dragon emblem on the uniform.

     "N-No." Thomas shook his head dumbly. "M-My father g-gave this uniform to me, it was his."

     "And who is your father?" Bishram queried.

     "Joseph Millard..." Thomas' gaze fell to the floor.

     "I believe you." Bam-Roo clasped his hand on Thomas' shoulder. "Has something happened? Has something happened to your father?"

     "Everyone was cursed... Everyone turned to stone," Bill answered piteously.

     "Everyone? From Meridell? By whom? Speak quickly!" the Blumaroo prodded urgently.

     "Everyone who came to the festival of Rad'emant Tineela. A malicious orb did this. We tried to preclude its plans. We tried to stop it... But we were too late," Thomas informed, his voice staggered from the adjacent grief.

     The Blumaroo wrapped the young Neopets in a warm hug.

     "What was it called?" Bishram asked, trying to drown his anger.

     "The only name we discerned from its lackeys was Galcron," Thomas replied.

     "That can't be true..." Bishram uttered.

     The Blumaroo wizard came into another pause, although this one was more intense. Bishram clutched his robes tightly and shook his head frantically; his eyes glistened and now seemed sad and gloomy.

     "Milord...are you okay?" Thomas inquired.

     "It is fine... I am fine young one," Bishram replied, cracking a smile, however, bewilderment still consumed his tone.

     "We need your help, Lord Bishram! We need all the help we can get if we have any hope to defeat this fiend and save our people," Bill pleaded with urgency.

     "Roo Island is a needy little place that requires much of my time and council..."

     Their eyes slumped to the floor. They felt disappointed that a powerful wizard such as Bishram would deny them aid at the most urgent time. Before despair could once again consume them, the Blumaroo added.

     "While I may not be able to aid you physically," Bishram's tone growing stern once more. "I will prepare you all for the trials that wait."

     "Prepare?" Damian prodded anxiously.

     "While I may seem old, I still prove to be quite limber and efficient in the art of staff fighting," Bishram boasted, offering a warm chuckle. "Give it 2 weeks, and you'll all be lean mean staff fighting machines."

     Thomas and his friends, despite their unfortunate plight, couldn't help but smile when they realized they were all going to be trained in the art of combat.

To be continued...

 
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Other Episodes


» Rad'emant Tineela: Part One
» Rad'emant Tineela: Part Two



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