As Neopians gathered ‘round for the 21st Annual Snorkle Racing Festival, the sun shone brightly on the numerous booths and games that had been set up. The lists for the ever-popular pie-eating contest were nearly full with hungry contestants eager to fill their bellies…

Rianne pushed herself away from her typewriter with a grimace. Her story was so silly that she could barely type it with a straight face and could only imagine how the Neopets reading it would respond. Well, the tiny fraction of Neopets who would be bored enough to read it in the first place. She glanced around the quietly bustling Neopian Times office, then pushed her glasses up her nose, and leaned back in her chair. No one ever noticed the Gnorbu at her tiny corner desk anyway.

Rianne’s thoughts drifted as she spun around in her chair and stared at the ceiling. Once, just once, she would love to really dig her teeth into a great story, the type of news reporting that made legends of Neopian Times writers – like that Scorchio who had ventured straight into the very Lair of the Beast, or the Lupe who had reported from the front lines of the Meridell War, or the Pteri who had chronicled the entire Qasalan saga from a bird’s eye view. But no, here she was, typing up a report about the 21st Annual Snorkle Racing Festival. With a groan, the Gnorbu pulled up her chair and plopped herself resignedly in front of her typewriter again...

Suddenly a tiny flash of color caught her eye, and glancing down she squinted at a small square of green paper which had materialized on top of her desk. It read, Want a hot story? Check behind the typewriter.

It was probably a waste of time, but so was the story she was working on. Lifting up the typewriter, Rianne frowned at the sight of a small black sphere. It was about the size of a Draik egg, perfectly round, and made of glass that, while seeming somehow translucent, showed no hint of color at all. Attatched to the sphere was another emerald sticky note: Hang on tight.

"What the?" Rianne began, taking the orb in one paw; but before she could continue a flicker of crimson iridescence flitted through the orb, and suddenly the Gnorbu's surroundings underwent a dramatic and horrifying change.

Suddenly she found herself in the middle of a raging battlefield. The sky was a crimson color, and all around her Neopets in steel armour clashed in a deafening cacaphony of screams and yells and the ring of steel on steel. Looking around wildly, Rianne noticed a grim-faced shadow Lupe towering over a prostrate red Zafara, who appeared to be unarmed. The Lupe's blade was about to descend on the Zafara, and in a fit of panic Rianna yelled, "STOP!"

The Lupe glanced in her direction, and the Zafara took the opportunity to perform a lightning-quick backward somersault, lashing out with his hind legs and knocking the sword from his opponent's paws before tumbling to his feet. The thought had barely begun to touch Rianne's mind that she had saved the Zafara's life when the world around her was altered again.

Now her fur was lashing about in the force of a biting wind, a dizzying canopy of stars glittering in the black sky above her as she stood shivering on the sparkling white snow which capped a towering peak that was clearly not Terror Mountain. Rianne's ears went flat against her head as the howling wind shrieked in disembodied agony, wailing an auditory depiction of cruel malice that froze the Gnorbu's spine. Then the orb glittered again in the frozen grip of her trembling paw, and Rianne found herself drifting underwater.

Taken entirely by surprise, the Gnorbu gasped sharply, then flailed about wildly as claws of pain and panic tore through her body as the unwelcome invasion of icy saltwater in her lungs. Blackness hovered at the edge of her vision, threatening to envelope her, and she could feel the strength draining from her limbs. A single thought drifted through her beleaguered mind:

I am going to drown...

Then suddenly her limbs were giving way, the orb slipping from her unfeeling paws and rolling to a stop a few feet away as the Gnorbu fell to her knees, choking and retching as she struggled to rid herself of the last of the cold seawater. Blackness continued to encroach on her vision, and from somewhere beyond the approaching and all-encompassing spectre of oblivion which hovered around her she heard a voice...

"Um, hello? Yes, I'm talking to you. I know you can hear me." Irritation seeped through the casual facade. Maybe she wasn't dying after all.

"I can hear you," she croaked, coughing slightly around her salt-coated throat as her stomach tried in vain to empty itself of what was no longer there.

"So. You're alive." It (he?) was mildly amused. "Why'd you release the orb? Didn't you read my note?"

Was it mocking her? "Yes, I read it! My arms went numb, that's all." Where was that voice coming from? She didn't see anyone, or anything at all for that matter, except for a blinding glow that seemed to be everywhere.

"Ah, you arms went numb." It was definitely mocking her. "Poor thing. Now whatever are you going to do? How can you continue your thrilling travels?"

Rianne squinted through the glare of the light but didn't answer, responding instead with a question of her own. "Who are you?"

"I am the laugh, the thrill, the joy, the emotion. I am what makes a story a story. I am friends with all authors, comrades with every great journalist. In short, I am Adventure and you've already met my little friend, the Transporter. She lets you see, feel, even taste the plot unfolding. I trust you had a good ride?"

Opting not to answer yet, Rianne sat on this for a moment, digesting the information the voice had dumped on her in such a large quantity. So it was finally her turn for a good story. Maybe little "adventure" could give her that edge that she needed, that boost to take her to the top! Finally, she asked of the general air around her, since she had yet to spot her host, "How does that work... with the orb and all?"

The voice sighed fondly. "My little orb can take you to the action, can show you the world! She'll give you little snippets of this tragic moment here, this historical event over here, this pivotal turning point in time over there. She's amazing. But you have to have a firm grip to travel with her. She'll leave you in a heartbeat. Flightly little thing, she is. Never can settle down."

Rianne found her eyes were adjusting to the light, such a bland difference from the darkness of the ocean floor, and began to see the outlines of vague shapes floating here and there, but always swimming out of her vision before she could really focus on them. She remembered the orb had rolled away from her when she collapsed and knew it couldn't have gone far, but she couldn't spot it anywhere. "So where did the orb go?"

The voice, Adventure as it called itself, chuckled. "Doubtless she's off showing someone else the day the Ixis were discovered or some other moment of the like. Once you release her, she's gone." There was a breeze now that ruffled Rianne's fur and brought with it the smell of some strange, mouth-watering fruit. "As long as you've got her in your hand, she'll take you along for a ride. But when you let her go, she assumes you want to quit so she drops you off here. But you can't expect her to wait around while you recover and what not, not a restless soul like her."

No, of course not, Rianne thought bitterly. Aloud, she voiced a question that seemed of vitality. "Where am I?"

"Wherever you want to be, Sugar." And suddenly, the images that had been dancing at the edge of her vision began to come into focus...

Something weighed heavily in her arms. Shivering violently, she looked through her glasses and recognized the glowing orb. She cried aloud, "I don't want to be-" Her vain protest was interrupted by a blurry yellow form, barely visible through the blinding snow swirling all about her. Rianne was too far and the shrieking wind too loud to hear anything; but suddenly, a desperate cry for help reached her twitching ears. Startled, she glanced down at the orb. The dull red light within was glowing brighter.

Trembling from cold and suspense, Rianne felt herself drawing closer to the yellow fur in the distance. Still too far for even a Hissi to detect, she somehow knew it was a very young Wocky dangling from a sharp, icy precipice. Without being told, Rianne knew the name of the wocky was Clo. She had been exploring when the storm had surfaced...

Frightened by the knowledge, Rianne's gaze darted to the silky smooth orb, now shimmering like a beacon in the blizzard. Elated by her discovery, Rianne willed herself to move forward, closer. The orb obeyed. Yes. This was where she wanted to be -- in the midst of the storm, in the thick of the battle, in the heat of the flame...

Another movement caught her attention. She turned her head to see an Eyrie battling the raging wind, racing time to reach little Clo before it was too late. Again, the knowledge popped into her mind. It was Pyrin, who had been hunting and miraculously heard the Wocky's cries.

Fascinated, Rianne clung to the unfolding scene. She stared, wide-eyed, as Pyrin thrust himself through the thick storm towards Clo. She held her breath, waiting for the little Wocky to let go and drop onto the Eyrie's back. She cheered as they flew away toward warmth and safety.

As they faded from view, Rianne felt a sudden itching in her paws. She longed for her tiny office and old typewriter, so she could put this tale of bravery on paper. The world of Neopia must know! And she would tell them.

Even as the thoughts came to her, the dark, ominous mountain faded. The air grew still, warm, and smelt of ink. Rianne blinked. She was back in her office. Tenderly placing the orb in a drawer, she began to pound the keys in feverish excitement.

Staring at the finished product, Rianne had never felt so proud. "You were right, Adventure," she whispered. Dropping her eyes to the drawer, she began to wonder if the orb would take her...

The possibilities were endless for the young Gnorbu! But right now, she had to tell her readers the story of how brave Pyrin saved Clo from the peaks of Terror Mountain.

Rianne twitched with excitement as she anxiously awaited to read the newest issue of the Times. She thought back to last Monday and how her words just flowed onto the paper.

The other reporters stood with her in the lobby. A tradition in the Neopian Times headquarters was that the reporters got first dibs on the issues before they were distributed throughout Neopia.

Rianne gasped in happiness as the small Quiggle rolled in a large stack of freashly-printed issues. She was first in line as she swiped the top issue and, with eager paws, looked on the front page. Then the second page. Then the third. Fourth. Fifth.

The Gnorbu's heart sank. She scanned every word of the paper but hadn't found her article! Not even a blurb! What was wrong? Wasn't it exciting enough? she thought. Detecting a possible mistake, Rianne headed for the Mr. Borkin's office.

Mr. Borkin was a blue Tonu and head editor of the Neopian times. No stories or articles were ever printed without his say-so. He was currently reading the Times and munching on a doughnut when Rianne nervously poked her head in.

"Um, excuse me, Mr. Borkin?" she asked.

Mr. Borkin looked up and saw the red Gnorbu standing before him. "Oh, hello there, Rianne."

"I'm sorry to bother you, Sir, but I had a question about the latest issue."

Mr. Borkin sighed and put the paper down, folding his hands before him. "Yes, I'm sure you do." He sounded like a school principal about to have a talk with a mischievous student. "Have a seat."

"It's just... I think there's been a mistake. Didn't you get the story I sent you about the Eyrie saving the Wocky?"

Mr. Borkin nodded. "Yes, I got it, Rianne."

"Well, didn't you think it was good?"

"Actually, I thought it was very good... but that's not the story you were assigned."

Rianne's eyes widened. "What?"

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but weren't you suppose to cover the 21st Annual Snorkle Racing Festival? And instead, I get this made-up action story?"

Rianne's jaw dropped so hard it felt like one side unhinged. "B-but it really happened! I swear!"

"You mean to tell me that you actually climbed to the most dangerous peaks of Terror Mountain, witnessed a daring rescue, then made it back down without a scratch all in one day? Not only that, but you did it without interviewing the Eyrie or Wocky? I'm not saying your story wasn't exciting, but I can't post something that clearly didn't happen."

How badly Rianne wanted to tell him that it really did happen. How she was there among the icy winds and saw how Pyrin battled the elements to save the poor Wocky who was hanging onto the cliff for dear life. But what were her alibis? A mysterious voice and a magic orb?

Still, she wouldn't back down. "Sir, you have to believe me! It really did happen! I risked my neck for that story."

Mr. Borkin walked around and placed a comforting hand on Rianne's shoulder. "Now, now, Rianne. I know how badly you want to be top-notch field reporter and you have a lot of potential to be one, but in order to make it to the top, you have to start at the bottom. I'll let it slide this time, but the next time I give you an assignment, I want to see it completed. Understood?"

As much as Rianne wanted to argue, she sighed and nodded.

As she headed back to her desk, she felt her already red fur grow brighter as she tried to keep from screaming out in frustration. What was the point of writing a great, true story if nobody would believe you? She opened her drawer and looked at the orb. I have to find a story that'll prove to Mr. Borkin I was there!

That's when it hit her...

She would embark on yet another journey. This tale in her paws of a heroic rescue was good, but she had the feeling that there was potential in this sphere for far more. Maybe even the stuff of legends.

"I know I just found you, Orb," she said, opening the drawer again, "but I have an entire career of mediocrity to make up for." Now that she had felt the tingling in her paws, and the way rushing ideas felt flowing through her mind and out onto paper; now that she had had the satisfaction of gazing at a finished piece and waiting for its glistening ink to dry, she wanted more. Much more.

"I know you will not stay with me forever," she continued as she reached toward the glinting orb. "But please, I ask for one journey. One trip that will change my life, and the lives of those who read of it."

A flash of light seared across the sphere, as if in response. Rianne's paws shook slightly as she reached for it, and the office seemed filled with the thundering of her own heartbeat. "Please..." she whispered, and her paws met the orb.

The office disappeared in an abrupt twist that left her stomach lurching. Rianne clutched the sphere to her chest, wondering wildly if she were to end up in the middle of another blizzard, or whether she would be above water this time, or if she would land down in the center of a fight with an arrow spinning toward her chest.

Her fate was out of her control, now. She had asked for the story -- and the orb had complied.

She landed suddenly, thrown down to a hard floor. Taking a gasp of air, the Gnorbu was relieved to find that her new environment was not beneath the ocean, and mentally thanked Adventure for that much, at least.

Slowly, hesitantly, she opened her eyes...

The orb gave no answer, merely sitting there in her paws, an invisible lump of smooth cold glass. An odd prickling sensation trickled up and down the Gnorbu's spine. Something cold and wet seemed to brush up against her -- not something solid, but an odd ghostly substance that more closely resembled an icy mist. Rianne had felt mist before, but never had its touch affected her as this frigid presence did. For that was indeed what it seemed to be: not just a mist, but the touch of some chill manifestation of disembodied menace.

Rianne launched itself into the air, whirling around wildly as her eyes probed desperately to pierce the utter blackness of her surroundings. "Who's there?" she whispered, but the mist had drifted away, leaving her once again alone with only the darkness, the orb and the stone beneath her feet to keep her company.

Rianne shook her head. This was ridiculous. She was supposed to be scouting, not shivering. The orb was supposed to have taken her to the story of her life, not some dark realm of stone-floored emptiness. "All right, Orb," she hissed, "what are you trying to show me? Is there something worthwhile here or not?"

The orb gave no response, but as if on cue a flickering orange light touched the room she was standing in. It almost looked like...

Fire. Fire from a torch. And the sickening tingle that flickered across her spine warned her that the bearer of the torch was not someone she wanted to meet. "Show me somewhere I can hide," she whispered to the orb, and suddenly she was perched in a hole in the wall near the ceiling. It was just big enough to conceal her, and in just the right place to offer her a vantage point to what was happening beneath her.

And as the torchlight drew closer and began to fill the room, Rianne gasped in horror. There, in the corner, was a figure who seemed to have slept through her arrival, slumped against the wall, his arms held above its head by...

Chains. The sleeping figure was chained to the wall. The Gnorbu felt her stomach twisting with trepidation. What if the people who had taken the other Neopet prisoner noticed her? Would she have time to escape with the orb? Or would they react too quickly?

Maybe she should just leave. Trading her freedom or maybe even her life for a story was downright ludicrous.

But what about the prisoner? Having his hands manacled above his head had to be uncomfortable, maybe even painful; and now as the torchlight grew stronger she saw that he was painfully thin.

No. She couldn't just beam away and leave him there. No matter what the cost to herself, she had to stay and help, because even if Rianne could walk away from the story of her life, the prisoner could not walk away from those chains -- not to mention the malevolent presence that had so horrified her upon her arrival in the cell.

But if she was going to do something, she would have to do it quick...

Because the door to the cell was already swinging open...

Was that...? No, it couldn't be. Adjusting her wire rimmed glasses, she strained her eyes to their maximum capability, trying desperately to defy what she'd seen. But, what she had seen was actually there; it was not an illusion.

A translucent, silvery mist enveloped the base of the torch, innards undulating yet form never moving at all. The mist resembled a thick, gnarled hand, spindly fingers curled around the wood tightly. A brawny arm soon revealed itself, followed by a large torso and legs, all of similar substance.

With a ghostly swish of air, a head adorned with a crown of mist hair appeared above the chest, finally displaying its face. A Yurble, features hardened with age and the wisdom of many battles, grinned malevolently at the scrawny prisoner. With the flickering light at hand, the chained pet's form was revealed to be a pale, stick-limbed Mynci.

"Now, Regaldo, it is time." The voice emitting from the eerie figure was deep and resonating, yet obviously aged. "I must inform you that it is an honour for you to be here, ready to face the possibility of never seeing Neopia again. But my pet here told me of a Gnorbu within the boundaries of this room." With these words, another figure of mist materialized from nowhere. This time it was snakelike, twisting around like a ribbon. "Is this true? Have you been fraternizing with outsiders?" With a small cough, a soft, raspy voice gave a quivering reply.

"Sir, I have been asleep until I heard the door opened. I... ahem... know not of this figure of whom you speak." After his short speech, the Mynci collapsed, as if out of breath from the few words he had uttered. Rianne held her breath. It was now or never, she thought bravely. With a courageous turn, the Gnorbu leapt into sight of the trio, extending a delicate hoof accusingly at the ghostly thing.

"It's true! Regaldo was asleep; I simply, uh, sneaked in here with the hope of freeing him, to prevent his being killed."

"Killed?" An evil chuckle emitted from the thing's mouth. "We have no hope of killing him."

"We?"

"Yes, we. We ghosts of the Temple of Geraptiku hope to once again have a true body in which to thrive and become one of Neopia. We were all cursed; our bodies and spirits broke apart, yet our spirits continued to thrive while our bodies did not. Now, there is only one way to regain a body. Geraptiku shall no more be a mere memory of Neopia, but a thriving village once again!..."

"You... you can DO that?" Lame, but the first thing that came to the Gnorbu's stupefied mind. "Take c-ontrol... all that?" And then, in an attempt to make this sound like intelligent conversation: "Why a w-weak pr-p-prisoner then?"

"Why, foolish girl, do you seek to save one whose fate you know nothing about? Why do you believe that the fraility of the body can withstand the ever-living spirit? I hope not to become this pitiful Mynci, rather..." The ghostly Yurble chuckled in a none-too-friendly way, "he shall become more like me..."

The Mynci gasped for breath before speaking again: "NO!"

"YOU ARE IN NO PLACE FOR DEFIANCE, REGALDO!" roared the Yurble to the chained pet, and then turned again to the reporter. "Perhaps, then, I shall make clear to you our intentions. I believe a... demonstration is in order." Another chuckle.

This entire dialogue did nothing to help the befuddled Rianne, who was still comprehending somewhere back at the "misunderstanding of the prisoner's fate" part. Her mouth took action before her mind, weakly commenting, "This is the Temple of Geraptiku? And you... you're the natives?" She restrained herself from adding something along the lines of "Do Tuesdays work for you? Let's schedule an interview."

But the ghastly ruler was not listening, but scratching into the wall around the Mynci sinister runes with a sharp-looking claw. From the door and walls all around Rianne there echoed a ghostly chant: "Chief Takalio! Geraptiku shall live!"

The citizens of Geraptiku were here.

Takalio finished the carving of his runes, and the weak Mynci was frantically gazing with wild eyes at the alien scripts all around him. The chief held up a paw for silence, and the wails of the tribe’s people halted.

"In the name of Geraptiku, and of the power vested in me, I show you all the beginnings of our rise to power!" Takalio turned to look each and every one of the assembled ghosts in the eye, finally resting his hostile gaze on the stupefied Rianne. "Watch closely, small rescuer," he whispered in a sinister tone. "This is the beginning of the end..."

Then, for a split second, his eyes met hers. He looked at her, his face full of fear and anxiety. What will happen to me? he seemed to ask. Rianne could only shake her head. I don't know...

But she knew it was a lie, even as she thought the words. She did know what would happen to him. He would escape. He had to -- there was no other way. Heaven knew what would happen if he didn't, if this race of ghostly Neopets were allowed to inhabit bodies and rise to power.

But what could she do? She was just a reporter. She had the worst position at the office, and she knew nothing about bravery or chivalry. She didn't have the quick mind and sharp wit of her fellow writers. There was no way she'd be able to think a way out of this one. She had nothing.

Then it hit her. She did have something. And slowly but surely, a plan began to formulate in her mind. She only hoped it would be enough...

"Wait!" she cried suddenly, as the Yurble reached out toward the Mynci. He stopped and turned his shaggy, transluscent head to glare at her. She hesitated for a moment, frightened, but she shook off the feeling. "You can't do that," she said firmly.

"And why not?" snarled the Yurble.

"Because... because it won't work." She backed against the wall and slid slowly along it to her left.

"What makes you think it won't work?" All attention was now on her.

"Well..." Stall, she told herself. Say something, say anything. Just stall them. You have to find it. "I, uh... I'm a sorceress." Nice.

The Yurble narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "A sorceress?"

She raised her head, still sliding to her left. "Yes," she said. "The great sorceress, Rianne -- ah, that is, Riannandum. Yes, you must have heard of me. I am known all over Neopia as the greatest sorceress of all time!"

There was a pause. Chief Takalio didn't look entirely convinced, but there was a trace of hesitance now clearly etched into his face. "The sorceress Riannandum..." he repeated slowly.

He's buying it, she thought happily. Just keep him going. Keep talking. "That's right," she said, stretching out her right foot and feeling along the ground. "I'm the most powerful sorceress ever, and only I can tell you how to inhabit this Mynci's body!"

Her foot bumped against something cold and hard. She concealed her smile as she rolled it toward herself.

"This," she said impressively, lifting the Orb onto her foot and hoisting it into her hand. She held it out so they all could see. There was a murmur of awe and curiosity as the ghosts (and Regaldo) examined the Orb. "This is the Orb of Neopia," she said. "It will do anything you ask of it. Here -- catch!!"

She thrust the Orb at the Yurble, who caught it easily in two clawed paws. "I've never heard of any Orb of Neopia," he said, glowering at the mystical black stone he held.

But Rianne was one step ahead of him. "Desert!" she cried. "You're in a desert! In the heat of battle. There are two armies rushing at you! Swords are clashing, cannons are firing — you're caught in the middle. How are you going to get out of this?"

The Yurble frowned at her. "What are you--?"

But before he could finish his sentence, there was a loud pop, and the ghostly Chief disappeared into thin air. Rianne smiled triumphantly. By making him imagine an adventurous scenario, the Orb had whisked him away to who knew where.

Surprisingly, as soon as the chief disappeared, so did his adversaries. They dissolved slowly, one by one, with deafening shrieks of anguish. Once the last ghost had melted into the air, Rianne rushed over to the imprisoned Mynci.

"It... it's true!" he babbled. "You really are a sorceress! I thought you were bluffing!"

Rianne grinned at him. "I was," she said soothingly. "I'm not really a sorceress."

Regaldo stared at her, wide-eyed. She located a key on a peg a few yards away, and with it she unlocked the Mynci's cuffs. "But... they disappeared!" he gasped. "You made them all disappear!"

Rianne smiled. "No," she said. "You've been kept here too long. Your mind is tired."

Regaldo, his arms now free, hopped to his feet, still watching her. After a moment, he whispered, "Thank you." With that, he bounded out the open door. Rianne watched after him, but only for a second. The dungeon scene was fading into blackness; the dank, dark feeling was replaced with the sounds of a busy office building. Within moments, she was sitting back at her desk at the Neopian Times.

She didn't know where the Orb was now, but she was somewhat glad to be rid of it. I guess it will find me when I'm ready, she thought, pulling her typewriter close. Her new assignment lay ready on her desk. She read over it once, but she would have time to take care of that later.

For now, she had a novel to write....

The End