The Power of Twelve

     Even the graffiti itself eluded her. Some of Torakor’s soldiers had already cleaned the writing off the walls by the time she got there. Though it would seem their mystery artist was far from done, she soon got a report of another incident in the Park District. Against one of the aqueduct walls, someone had scrawled ‘Jerdana: A Manipulator Like Mastermind’.

     This time, Sasha got there in time. It was a quickly drawn thing, with thick red brushstrokes that barely had time to dry, and had run down the wall in the process. It gave the writing a chilling, threatening air. Again, the locals hadn’t seen anything, the graffiti appearing mysteriously overnight while the area was quiet.

     Mastermind, as much as Sasha could remember from history, had been another member of the Circle of Twelve that had ruled the Great Empire. He had been another of the three that King Altador had felled in his adventure in Two Rings Valley. But beyond that, Sasha knew nothing of him. And she could certainly see no link to their own Jerdana.

     Whoever this artist was, they clearly had some sort of axe to grind about the Great Empire. Sasha would need to learn more to have any hope of catching them and reasoning with them.

     She made her way across the city to the Archives, Altador’s vast repository of knowledge rivalled only by the libraries of King Hagan in Brightvale. A kindly old Lenny named Finneus was the head archivist. He was a little scatterbrained but knew the archives inside out.

     “Sasha!” he greeted her in a way that made it clear he had certainly not been having a nap at his desk before she entered the foyer. “A pleasure to see you. What are you seeking today?”

     “I was hoping you might be able to find me some resources on the Great Empire, Finneus,” she replied.

     “As in, the Circle of Twelve’s Empire?” Finneus asked.

     “The very same.”

     “We have some accounts, I believe,” Finneus said, scratching his head. “Though very little from the Great Empire survived past its end. We know much more about the decline that followed its fall and the eventual end at the hands of King Altador. The Empire itself… much of it was destroyed along with records during the fall, and in the years immediately following there was so much chaos that record keeping was sadly the last thing on their minds.”

     “I will take anything you can give me,” Sasha said.

     “Very well, I think we have some more esoteric accounts somewhere in the deeper archives,” Finneus said. “If you give me a few hours, that should be enough time to compile what we have available.”

     Sasha thanked the old Lenny, and said she would return at the end of the day. To clear her head and allow her a chance to think, she decided to take a walk in the fields beyond the city walls. She always found that walking through the wheat and feeling it brush against her paws relaxed her.

     She joined the steady throng of people passing through the city gates and passed through the threshold. It was still early morning, so the crowds were not all that large, and she was able to pick out faces that she knew. They shared friendly greetings and jokes. Sasha always found that spreading a little joy that way had a ripple effect that spread wider throughout the city.

     She paused as she noticed a pair of figures struggling up the path towards the city. One was a Faerie, small in stature with pink, petal-like wings. She was supporting the other figure who was struggling to walk, a Lupe with oddly coloured purple fur.

     “Do you need help?” Sasha asked as she rushed over to take the Lupe’s other arm and help him stay upright.

     “Yes!” the Faerie gasped with relief. “We need to see the council!”

     “Then you are in luck, young Faerie,” Sasha said, recognising the green behind the ears attitude of a Faerie still attending the Academy. “I am a member of the council. Sasha, at your service.”

     The Faerie looked momentarily embarrassed.

     “What do you need to see us about?” Sasha asked.

     “My name is Kaia,” the Faerie replied. “And this is my friend Reizo. We are victims of the Darkest Faerie.”

     ***

     The outskirts of the town of Neovia were dotted with a number of graveyards that were the primary reason the wider Haunted Woods were home to so many ghosts and assorted undead creatures. Some were small, while others were vast enough to hold thousands of graves.

     The Forgotten Graveyard, as Fyora had called it, was well hidden in the heart of the woods near the town, and even if it did not have the magical curse Fyora claimed it did, it would rarely see visitors. The oppressive nature of the trees in the woods meant that it was heavily overgrown, and Kelland found he had to cut his path forward in places.

     Fyora had claimed the curse that made people unable to find this place unless they knew what they were looking for had been cast by the dark wizard who had founded Neovia and constructed, among other things, the vast catacombs below the town. The citizens had eventually turned on him, and burnt his mansion to the ground. But the effects of his evil magic still lingered in the surrounding area.

     It was not difficult for Kelland to find the site of the Darkest Faerie’s plan. A natural clearing in the overgrown graveyard was still home to the ruined remains. It was a giant hourglass, at least twice his height. The glass had fractured now with wear, but the noxious gasses inside had been dispelled by Fyora before she left. If the Darkest Faerie had succeeded, she would have flooded all of Neovia and much of the surrounding Endless Plains with the poison. It might even have reached as far as Faerieland.

     In front of the hourglass was a stone dais. The source of the hourglass’s power. Kaia had fractured it in her attempts to escape.

     Kelland studied it with care. He knew little of the deeper magical processes at work, but he understood motives. This plan, it was not how the Darkest Faerie normally operated. Her plan to seize Altador had involved turning the citizens against the council by cursing them. In her efforts to destroy Meridell and Faerieland, she had gone to great lengths to exploit the fears of locals and resurrected long dead beasts.

     They were both complex, intricate plans. Elegant and manipulative. But this, a cloud of poison? It was simple and brutal. Effective, too, had it succeeded. But it was a blunt instrument. Not her usual style at all. This was an act of desperation from the Darkest Faerie, Kelland was sure. At this point, she knew she no longer had the power to summon nightmares and best Fyora directly. She knew the ring could not be removed. And, logically, this also meant that at this point she knew she would die.

     And yet, upon discovering this, her first thought clearly had not been to return to Altador and seek redemption. No, instead she had planned to snuff out the lives of thousands of Neopets. She had planned to continue exactly as before.

     Kelland deflated. He had so hoped that he might find she had a real change of heart. But King Altador and Jerdana had the right of it. She had returned to Altador because she had no other options left.

     Still, he would be thorough in his duties. The Darkest Faerie left this graveyard months ago, but only now appeared in Altador. He would need to discover what she had been doing since.

     Kelland made his way back out of the Forgotten Graveyard, and headed out towards the more inhabited areas of the Woods. There was a Wanderer Camp not far from Neovia, on the well-trodden path between the town and the Deserted Fairground. It was a lively camp, with singing and music around the campfires at all hours of the day and night.

     That, Kelland knew, meant a lot of eyes. Watching and remembering. If anyone had seen the Darkest Faerie after her escape from the graveyard, it would have been them.

     The Wanderers were welcoming people, and there was always space around the fire for another traveller. Kelland set himself down next to one of the older folk and began plying them for information.

     “Aye, I remember her,” the old Jetsam said with a dark tone. “You’ll struggle to find a soul around this place who doesn’t. She set her lapdog on us, the poor cursed creature we took to calling Malum, towards the end of it all.”

     “And when it all ended?” Kelland asked.

     “Oh, we saw Fyora come through here mighty fast, like all the winds of Faerieland were at her back,” the Jetsam said. “Only later we heard what had happened near Neovia. The fate she helped avoid for us. Wasn’t that long after I saw that Dark Faerie slinking back this way.”

     “The Darkest Faerie?” Kelland asked.

     “Can’t say as I know her by name,” the Jetsam said. “But I never forget a face. Black hair, streaked with lavender? Red wings?”

     “That’s the one,” Kelland said with a sad nod. “Did you see which way she went?”

     “Towards the Deep Woods,” the Wanderer said. “There's caves back there where the mountains rise up. Plenty of people who want to disappear use them to hide out, wouldn’t be surprised if she ended up there. Never seen her come back this way though, if she left the Deep Woods, she didn’t use the paths.”

      The ominous way he said that was not lost on Kelland. The Haunted Woods was not a place to stray from the established paths. Things worse than the darkness itself lurked off the beaten trails, and only more evil creatures still deliberately leave the paths to walk their own way.

     Kelland thanked the Wanderers, tossing them a few Neopoints as was custom. He had a new destination. The Darkest Faerie had fled to the Deep Woods, and he had to discover what she found there that sent her to Altador.

     To be continued…