A Cheater's Redemption

      "Hey!"

      A sharp clap and an even sharper exclamation sliced through the noise and startled everyone into silence. "None of that is helping," Bertio said. "Elther, you’re always getting your mother candles for her birthdays, do you know where she keeps them?"

      "I – well... I mean, those are more decorative and a, uh, a collection," Elther admitted. "They aren’t for burning and I wouldn’t want her getting angry. She might not allow me to have friends over if her stuff is messed with."

      "Surely she must have some that are for burning?" Bertio said. "Some that she likes the smell of? We need some source of light."

      "You should be the one to look, Elther," Tiva pointed out. "You know your house better than we do, so you should be better at walking around in the dark."

      "I guess I can look," Elther offered awkwardly. Truthfully, he didn’t know what to do in a situation like this. Normally if the power went out, his father was firing off high-priority Neomails to the people working at the power plants to have it restored immediately. But Elther didn’t know who any of those Neopians were, and he didn’t have his father’s device to send those Neomails.

      Elther got to his feet and carefully navigated around the shadowy dining room. He could see just a bit through some moonlight filtering through the windows. It must not be cloudy outside, and therefore it couldn’t be storming. Elther couldn’t think of any reason why the power would be out. But, as he’d already decided, he couldn’t do anything about it. He made his way upstairs, dodging a table that he knew was along the left wall on the uppermost floor. It had an expensive vase on it, and his parents would be very angry at him if it broke, even if he had the excuse of the power being out.

      As he walked by the table, Elther suddenly paused. He knew that his parents usually kept their bedroom locked when they weren’t home. Something about his father’s business secrets. But Elther knew that they kept a spare key inside that very vase. It was tall and heavy and very unwieldy to turn over, the perfect place to hide a tiny key. Carefully, Elther eased the vase onto the floor and tipped out the key.

      Key in flipper, Elther ducked into the master bedroom. He knew from his childhood years of crawling into his parents’ bed when he had a nightmare – something he definitely hadn’t done recently – that his mother’s closet and dresser were on the left side of the bedroom. Fortunately, the window in their room was letting in a lot of moonlight. He could see candles adorning the top of the dresser. He popped the lids off a few and examined them for signs of being burned.

      Elther found three likely suspects, their wax a little lower than the others. Hopefully his mother wouldn’t be too mad. She loved him, right? She’d be fine with him burning some of her candles for a few hours if it meant that he wasn’t trapped in the darkness, right? He had to believe that; he gathered the candles and carefully carried them downstairs, making sure to lock the door behind him.

      "These were all I could find," he admitted as he arranged them around the table. He tried to strike a match, but wound up snapping it against the box. Murmuring angrily, he grabbed another one, but it met the same fate.

      A paw rested on his. "Here," came Oruna’s voice. "Let me try."

      She took the box of matches from his flipper.

      "Yeah, before you snap them all and we’re sitting here in the dark, with unlit candles," Bertio said sarcastically.

      "Enough, Bertio," Oruna said firmly. The first match she struck flared with light. She dipped it into each candle in turn, and the dining room was soon alight with dancing firelight. "There. That’s much better already. Thanks for finding them, Elther."

      "Oh it’s nothing," Elther muttered awkwardly. Eager to change the subject, he turned to Bertio. "Say Bertio, was it raining out at all when you went for your walk?"

      "No," Bertio answered with a frown. "Why?"

      "I was just wondering. Normally, our power only goes out when we have bad storms, but it’s not even sprinkling right now," Elther explained. "That’s weird."

      "It could just be a problem with the power lines," Tiva put in. "Sometimes that happens."

      "Well, there doesn’t seem to be anything we can do other than wait for it to be fixed," Aryn said. In the light of the flickering candles, their eyes gleamed. "Since we have nothing else to do, we could keep playing. This darkness has given me an idea."

      Even Elther couldn’t resist the allure of Aryn’s idea, though he was frustrated knowing that his big spell was going to be walked back. By the light of the candle, he squinted at the battle map as Aryn dove back in:

      With the Dire Lupes closing in and all seeming lost, suddenly, the dark clouds that had been spitting rain down upon the combatants closed in over the moon. The darkness around them became whole and complete. The Dire Lupes all faltered. Where before they had been snarling and yipping with anticipation, their vocalisations instead became whines and whimpers. Before anyone could react, every last Dire Lupe scattered and disappeared in the darkness.

      Even Mara, the huntress with the best night vision, could not see the extent of their fleeing. She gestured to the others. "Stick together," she called. "We don’t want to get lost in the darkness."

      Wynn, Cyn’s twin, glanced around. Unlike Mara, she could see nothing at all besides her friends closing ranks around her. "Maybe we should go back in the tower," she said nervously. "That way, we don’t need to worry about getting lost."

      The rest of the group murmured assent and drew together back toward the crumbling tower in which they had previously sheltered. Howling wind warbled through the arrow slits, a chilling sound that made the hairs on the backs of everyone’s neck prickle. After a moment, Athas and Mara had a strange thought: the sound wasn’t just the wind. Something else was howling out there. And it wasn’t the Dire Lupes.

      Above their heads, Athas noticed an eerie mist pouring in through the arrow slits. Too frightened to speak up and warn his companions, he watched as the mist began to come together and form -

      "Athas is not frightened!" Elther said hotly.

      In the candlelight, he could just about make out Bertio rolling his eyes, but he didn’t care. It was totally unfair for Aryn to pin the title of coward onto him! All because he was waiting to see what happened. He guessed they were doing this to punish him for his cool spell that he didn’t share with them.

      "It’s just flavour text," Oruna said calmly. "I’m sure they didn’t mean anything by it."

      "I’m just tired of being picked on," Elther said. "First, I get yelled at for looking up the monsters so we don’t get caught off-guard by any special abilities they have, because that’s meta-gaming and it’s bad. But now, I, Elther, know that the mist is going to form Ghostly Meercas, but I decided Athas wouldn’t know that. How is he frightened of ghosts that he doesn’t even know exist yet? Whoever heard of being frightened of a little bit of fog? I just feel like you’re always changing the rules so that it’s always me getting picked on in particular."

      "I’m sorry, Elther," Aryn said. In spite of his anger, Elther grudgingly had to admit that they did sound genuine. "Like Oruna said, it was just flavour text. Athas is not mechanically frightened and the Ghostly Meercas were not going to get a surprise attack or anything. You’re right that I shouldn’t have forced an emotion onto him. Athas is your character and you do get to decide what he thinks and feels."

      "Well, that’s fine," Elther said uncomfortably. Even though Aryn had agreed with him and validated him, he felt strange. Should I have just not said anything? I kinda ruined the surprise of it being Ghostly Meercas in-character, he thought. Then he shook himself a bit. Of course I needed to speak up. If I don’t enforce my own boundaries, everyone will just trample them.

      The silence continued to stretch, so Elther continued, "Athas is.. uh, well, like I said – he’s just watching to see what happens. He’s aware that it could be something, but not scared."

      "Okay," Aryn agreed. "Okay, where were we? Above their heads, Athas notices an eerie mist pouring in through the arrow slits. He doesn’t choose to alarm the rest of the party – at least not yet – but he keeps a close eye on the mist. However, it soon becomes apparent that it is the worst-case scenario: the clouds of mist begin to coalesce into almost physical forms. The tight, cramped quarters within the old, broken tower become even more cramped as one, two, three Ghostly Meercas materialise before you. Now I’m going to ask everyone to roll to determine turn order."

      Everyone snatched for their dice. There was a great deal of cross-referencing and passing the dice around to make sure that the numbers were being read accurately. Elther wasn’t even upset; it hadn’t occurred to him to fudge. Besides, a turn order roll of sixteen was pretty decent all things considered. They all rattled off their scores, but one player was missing. In the chaos, no one had noticed that Oruna had started staring at the ceiling above them, frowning but not moving, not until the very end.

      "Mara, what’s your turn?" Aryn asked. When they got no response, they said, a little louder, "Mara?"

      Oruna held up a paw and nodded to the ceiling. "I thought I heard a voice. And I definitely heard pawsteps," she reported. "It sounds like someone is walking on the roof."

      Elther gave a nervous laugh. Oruna’s Aisha ears were particularly sensitive, but that would be ridiculous. "My house is three stories tall, Oruna," he said. "There’s no way you would hear someone on the roof from the ground floor. There’s just too much between there and here."

      "Maybe I was imagining it," Oruna said doubtfully, as though she didn’t believe it.

      "Let’s keep the ghosts in-game," Tiva said, echoing Elther’s nervous laugh. "It’s spooky enough in the dark."

      And then, from above their heads, all five of them heard the unmistakable sound of glass breaking. It was not a particularly large shatter, but even the light tinkling sound was loud enough to slice through the group’s conversation. Silence fell around them and gripped at their hearts. Elther couldn’t breathe.

      "Elther, you don’t have a Petpet, right?" Bertio asked.

      "No. My mom thinks they’re dirty," Elther said uneasily.

      "And the only other Neopians who live here are your parents, and they’re out of town for the weekend," Bertio continued to press.

      "Yes," Elther hissed. "We’re alone! It’s just the five of us!"

      Bertio glanced up at the ceiling. "Apparently not anymore."

To be continued…