The Golden Guitar of Silver Strings - Part Two

      She yawned and said to herself, "What a weird dream last night! Magic guitars? Yeah right!" Tabatha looked up and screamed.

      There, high above her, sticking vaguely out of the tree's hollow, was the golden guitar. Tabatha grabbed it. The engravings of the Cybunnies were sleeping! A cute small one woke up, yawned then began jumping around as usual. Tabatha was still in shock that she hadn't been dreaming this whole time.

      Suddenly, Tabatha thought of something interesting. If the Cybunnies could hop, and if they could sleep, could they talk too? She thought it would be strange to be talking to a guitar, but she went ahead and said hello. To her surprise, the awake Cybunny stopped in its tracks and turned to Tabatha. It started right at her and began talking!

      "Hello there!" said the cute Cybunny.

      "Oh my gosh," Tabatha replied. "Are you talking to me?

      "Who else do you expect to talk to you? The tree?!" The engraving started laughing.

      Tabatha turned around to look at the tree, checking to make sure the tree really wasn't talking to her. She felt relieved that it was a normal blooming willow tree. She didn't want anything else in her world to be strange at the moment.

      "So… uh, what's your name?" Tabatha asked and stared without blinking at the guitar.

      "Well my name is Hopper! Glad you asked, Tabatha!"

      Tabatha did a double take. Now this was starting to freak her out. How could a guitar talk? How could a guitar know her name? She realized, then, that didn't know much about the golden guitar except that it was definitely magical.

      "So Tabatha," the Cybunny engraving continued, "what would you like to know?"

      Tabatha was confused. "What do you mean?"

      "What do you think a talking guitar is good for?" Hopper scratched his head and muttered, "Well, I guess there is always being able to play it…"

      Tabatha was curious about what a talking guitar could know, so she asked a question. "What are the names of the other Cybunnies in the meadow?"

      Hopper laughed. "That's an easy one! Let's see. There is Buttercup." He pointed to a beautiful Cybunny that was still asleep. "She is named that because we all think she is as pretty as a flower!"

      There was one thing that Tabatha liked about Hopper. He definitely told the truth! Buttercup had long, swift hair and when her eyes finally opened, she could see her amazingly green, glowing eyes.

      "And over there, that is Thumpy…"

      Tabatha saw a Cybunny that was just waking up. He stretched then began to thump his foot as hard as he could. Tabatha could feel the vibrations run along her hands as Thumpy went on thumping.

      "Last, that one over there, his name is Chip. We don't know why. He just liked that name and stuck with it. So are you going to keep asking dumb questions like that or get some real information out of me?"

      "Ok, well…" Tabatha thought for a moment before saying, "Are there other types of guitars like this? And why is my name on the strings? Do the other Cybunnies talk? Oh, and how is it even possible that you are here?"

      "Now we're talking!" grinned Hopper. "Nope, there is only one guitar as elaborate as this. Not to mention, there are no other guitars that have talking Cybunnies. Isn't it obvious? Onto the next question. Someone made this guitar for you before you were even born. This guitar is magical, and the Cybunny who made it for you has magical powers. And, yes, the other Cybunnies talk, but Thumper is always busy, Buttercup is too stuck up to talk to anyone, and Chip is shy."

      "Someone made it for me? Magical powers?! Who made it?" Tabatha gasped.

      "Now that," Hopper answered, "I cannot tell you. You have to find out on your own who made it."

      Tabatha was frustrated now. "But why can't you tell me?"

      "I can't tell you because you need to find out on your own. The Cybunny who made this is extremely important in your life, and you need to make your own important decisions and find the creator yourself."

      "FINE!" Tabatha was angry with Hopper now.

      She stopped talking to him and dragged the golden guitar on the road. Tabatha had a temper, and she knew the guitar was indestructible so she didn't mind dragging it across the stone and rock street. She finally stopped when she saw a small inn where she might be able to sleep. When Tabatha got inside, she found out that she would not be able to pay the rent, but she made an offer to the owner and was able to make a deal with him. The deal was that Tabatha was to play music for the guests. With the deal settled, she was allowed to stay at the inn as long as she wanted as long she played every night.

      For about two months Tabatha played music at the inn. One day, a traveler came in and saw Tabatha's guitar. The traveler was an old Aisha with black fur. She had a satin bandana over her head that was blue; it covered blonde hair that was turning white. She also wore seven rings on one hand, and four on the other. The traveler staggered as she walked, and her colorful, baggy clothes sagged. As soon as she saw Tabatha and her guitar, she stopped in her tracks.

      "It's the… its t-the," the old lady couldn't even get a whole sentence out. "It's the Tabatha!"

      She fainted on the ground and a few people surrounded her while other stared at Tabatha like she was some kind of freak. Since when was Tabatha being called 'The Tabatha'? Or was it the guitar the lady was talking about? There was one thing that Tabatha needed more than anything. She had to talk with the old traveler and get some information. She might even, Tabatha realized as her mind bounced around the possibilities, know information about her mother! Or maybe she might even know where her mother was!

      Tabatha looked to the golden guitar for help.

      "Who is that lady? And am I 'The Tabatha' or you?" Tabatha asked the guitar nervously.

      "Ah," sighed Hopper, "I had a feeling this day was going to come soon. You are not 'The Tabatha'. You are just plain Tabatha. And that lady just so happens to be… well I cannot tell you now. You will have to find out for yourself."

      "You mean you can't tell me who she is?! What good are you anyway!? I thought you knew everything!" Tabatha was furious.

      "No, I do know everything; I am just not allowed to discuss people who have been part of 'The Tabatha'." Hopper winced and quickly added, "I have said too much."

      He stopped talking and began to jump through the meadow as usual. Tabatha yelled to him, but he ignored her and hopped around with long strides.

          * * * * *

      Two hours later, the old traveler was fully conscious. Tabatha had put the golden guitar away so that the lady would not faint once again.

      "I need your help. I think you might have information that I need to contact my mother." Tabatha looked straight into the traveler's eyes.

      The traveler looked frightened. As she stared upon Tabatha face, the Cybunny could see cold fear in her eyes.

      "The T-taba-ta-Tabatha is back!' The traveler's eyes filled with tears. "Please save us! You are our only hope. The Black Magic is destroying our land!"

      Tabatha was dumbfounded. What the traveler was saying to her made no sense, yet she felt pain in her heart as the words came out.

      "I don't understand." Tabatha was scared. "What is going on?"

      "You mean you don't know? Oh dear child, no! I must tell you, you have to save us!"

      The traveler grabbed Tabatha's hand and began pulling her out of the inn. Tabatha was sure to take the guitar and followed the old lady. The traveler brought her into a home a fair distance away. The house was small, but comfortable. There were sheets or colorful satin hanging on the walls of the one roomed space. In the middle of the room was a table with a crystal ball. There were no chairs.

      "Come sweet child," the old traveler began, "and I will show you the past."

      The traveler led Tabatha to the crystal ball. She placed her hand on the surface and the center turned black with smoke.

      "First I will show you your past"

      Tabatha was frightened and wanted to ask what was going on, but she was too scared and confused to speak. Inside the glass, the black smoke turned into clouds, and the ball showed the outside of the Cybunny Foster Care Center. It was unharmed! But how was this possible when there had been a fire at The Center only a few months ago? Tabatha was baffled, but then she saw a small blue Cybunny. It was her when she was four years old! Tears streaked Tabatha's face as she watched the small child run after an Eyrie cab, then give up and go inside The Center. This was her past.

      "Oh you poor child," the traveler began. "You had such a dark past."

      The setting changed in the crystal ball. Once again, it filled with black smoke, and then it turned into fire. It was from the years, months, weeks, days, and hours before The Center had burned down.

      "Ah, now that I have seen your past, I will show you the past of our nation."

To be continued...