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"Ghostly Dreams" by jrayeb3
Identity.
That was something Sylva didn't have the time or courage to keep anymore.
Sylva had been a dashing young Lupe, adventurous, newly wed, setting out to sail every other weekend.
What ever he was now wasn't that. Quite the opposite, if anything.
He hid in the bushes, his steps couldn't make a sound had he wanted them to. He slid between walls and just a shimmer of his now pale-blue fur could make a baby Gelert scream for their mother.
In his mind, he would always be Sylva. But in every place other than that, he'd just be The Ghost Lupe.
Ryan was bored.
That sort of thing happened a lot these days. Nothing to do, but he enjoyed every second of it. He soaked in the sun, the sense of relaxation, the fresh island breeze.
He was home.
Home was a strange word for Ryan. He'd had many. Home could be the base where he stayed when he was on duty as a knight. Home could be where he spent his free time with his pals in The Lost Desert. Home could be the places he explored with his brothers.
But if home is where the heart is, home was right here on the beach, his brothers, sisters, friends and family inside the house, baking a feast.
The family had grown an awful lot recently. Two acaras had joined the bunch, and weren't quite adjusted yet. The wocky, clad with an oversized hoodie, took a liking to Ryan instantly. Then there was the bori, the lutari, the gelert...
It was a beautiful, massive, mess.
RJ needed an escape from it.
Other Stories
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Fyora, in the head seat at the long table, sat back against the chair. Light from the outside poured in through the atrium windows of the chamber, bathing her council in a warm yellow glow. Twelve faeries—two of each kind—were in attendance. It seemed every few years this topic arose. Every time new council members were brought in, new arguments for and against Illusen came up. As usual, Fyora remained silent and listened to her trusted advisors give their opinions—valid they all were.
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"Rare treasures on sale! Get them now! We brought these back all the way in the Lost Desert, 'ey're so rare," a typical Pirate merchant shouted to everyone in hearing distance on the Warf Wharf. That meant everyone. The guy was loud. Lillian rolled her eyes. All of these pirates were scammers and frauds.
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 Seven Designer Scrolls
The scrolls in Neopia are almost all good for reading, but there are quite of other things that scrolls can be done with that are surprising! In the last edition of Seven Scrolls, I talked about seven of the dastardliest scrolls throughout Neopia. This time, I decided to focus on another aspect of scrolls, how they look!
by xiaolin10413 |
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 Chronicles of a Caped Crusader: Days Yet to Pass: Part Six
Chloe inadvertently flinched at Inna's declaration that Veronica wanted to speak to her. The idea of talking to Veronica had never crossed her mind. She was her mortal enemy, and partially responsible for her eventual death. “Why would Veronica want to speak to me?” Chloe demanded.
by kristykimmy |
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 The Adventures of Trina: The Glass Key: Part Four
Over coughing up sobs, I heard the metal door squeak, and something slipped behind me. I could see it from a shadow on the wall, standing there like stone, its shape overlapping with my quivering silhouette. Even covered in darkness I dared to not let it find my face, soaked and shaken, pressed against the cold surface of the table.
by ummagine3284 |
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