Chapter Text
Just when I thought things around Lynlora couldn’t get any weirder, my only guide through all this is gone. Right now it’s looking like early morning – bright and early.
In a panic, I pick myself up from the dirt – because yes, I was sleeping on the ground, apparently – and look around, grabbing my staff in front of me as I try to find where my gargoyle companion went off to. “Draak?” I shout. “Where are you?”
Of course, I don’t get a response, unless the echoing of my voice against the mountains counts as a response. With a groan, I move forward, trying to survey the area, but finding little more than a bunch of tall grass and no signs that the gargoyle was ever here.
What was it? Inebriation? Did someone hit me on the head really hard and leave me out here? Worst case scenario: one of Necroth’s minions is playing a trick on me right now and I’ve probably aged fifty or so years. I’d probably have to spend just as many years shepherding dwentils before I’d have enough to afford a de-aging potion!
As these thoughts play in the back of my mind, I scout through, using my staff as a walking stick of sorts to poke at the grass and dirt in front of me – knowing full-well that if it turns out Draak actually is out here and he’s just sleeping in the grass, I’m not going to be able to forgive myself when I inevitably step on him and snap his tiny little spine in two.
Whatever this place is, I’m out within about five minutes, standing at the mouth of a cave in the middle of a dirt patch at the edge of all this tall grass. Just nearby is a small pond – and it’s with a heavy sigh that I find I’ve barely aged a day; I guess that’s an ixnay on the whole potion dilemma. However, none of this resolves the current big problem at hand:
I have no idea where to go from here.
“Draak!” I shout again – and again it’s in vain. “If I find out this is some kind of prank, I swear—!”
Hold that thought… I think I’m gonna sneeze…
“hheh...hHIih-t’CHhzzu!”
Yeah – wow, that was random.
Wait…
“-snf- What the—?” Oranges? Why do I suddenly smell oranges? I take another look around; I certainly don’t see any oranges – and I definitely don’t remember shoving an entire orange up my nose, so what’s going on?
Oh, that does remind me, though! I know a spell that should help out here… Draak calls it the “cookie trail,” but it’s really a line of sparkles that leads me to where I probably should go. It only takes up one orange Skittles™ to cast.
Keeping that in mind, I look through my bag for the orange artifact and place it on my staff. With a little wave of the staff, the way is made clear to me as a bunch of sparkles show upon the ground in a single file line. I don’t know where it goes, but I’m not about to complain about a clear path to anywhere that isn’t here. For all I know, this line will probably lead right to Draak.
O ff I go, staff in hand, feeling a little starved, but otherwise ready to begin a voyage through Lynlora if it means finding out the key to all that’s been going on here lately. You see, Draak and I were meaning to meet up with an old witch who would tell us more about these Skittles™ I found, as well as why this Necroth person has such a bone to pick with me having them. By now I’m well aware that these little tastes of the Rainbow are sought after by Necroth’s minions, and I’ve been doing everything I can to avoid them while I collect the Skittles™ – but that’s no easy task, especially with Draak now gone.
S ure, Draak was a sarcastic little know-it-all, but he was useful and he had intel on what Necroth was up to. When we met, he told me that he and Necroth didn’t “see eye-to-eye,” which I took to mean he would be the perfect kind of person to follow along with as a guide of sorts. Over the past few days, he’s helped out as I’ve traversed around Lynlora, but you know the rest – or at least you know what I know.
A fter a few hours of travel, the trail comes to an end and I find myself in some tiny village I’ve never seen before. It doesn’t look like anyone’s willing to give me a warm welcome of any kind, though the trail did directly lead to a door.
I can only shrug my shoulders and assume this is the home of the witch I’m supposed to talk to. The home looks more like a treehouse than anything else, suspended by the tree’s strong branches and requiring me to traverse some steps to get to the door.
I’m about to knock when I feel a sharp tickle igniting in my nose.
My breath wavering, I bring my hand up to cover my mouth as I start to succumb to the tickle’s whims.
“hhi-hih...hITT-T’ZzCH’zu!”
I’m just about to attempt knocking again when I realize I can smell lemons – and before I can spend more than a second thinking about that, my nose tickles again.
“hhECHH-T’Zz’CHhhu!!!”
And now I can smell...limes? What in the Rainbow’s name?!
Feeling kind of like I might sneeze again, I wipe my nose and wait for a second, but nothing comes. With that, I knock on the door three times and wait for a response. And wait some more. And then I keep waiting.
Okay, maybe the hag didn’t hear?
I try knocking again, and still nothing.
“Oh come on,” I mumble. I’m about to turn back around when I take a look at the door and realize there’s no knob, no handle, not even a peephole. It must be a magical door of sorts. While musing over such details, I can still sense the aromatic mixture of lemon and lime.
Wait a minute. I know a spell that maybe might work here? The thing is: I’ve never used it before, and it seems like a stupid idea. In a nutshell: it’s a spell to create an invisible key. Invisible key goes in the invisible door – that’s how it’s supposed to work. Look, I didn’t make the spell, but I’m at a bit of a loss, otherwise; either this hag finally croaked or the entrance to her house is supposed to be a riddle.
I have the two required Skittles™: one yellow, one green. I insert both of them in my staff, taking out the orange one, and initiate the spell – at which point I hold my hand out and feel an invisible metallic shape fall in my palm. Now let’s hope I don’t—
Aaaand I dropped it. Okay, it’s somewhere on the floor, I think. If I find out it fell off the porch, though, I’m going to scream.
Alright, it’s on the porch; no need for hollering.
With that, I feel around with the key for a lock, poking here and there with the key until the door opens. Funny thing is that I don’t think I even felt a lock, but I’m not about to question progress.
I take a few steps in and pause, feeling a shiver run down my spine. “Hello?” I say, my voice low, unable to make much out in this dark interior. “I’m looking for a witch. Is she in here?”
Just as I ask, I notice a shape moving in the dark; I immediately realize it’s the witch shifting in her bed, pulling herself out of sleep. “A visitor?” she grumbles. “Of course, dear; let me put some lights on.” With a clap of her two hands, the witch ignites several candle wicks at once, revealing to me who she is and where I’m intended to sit while I talk to her.
I make my way to a small wooden chair as the witch moves to a chair of her own, her tiny frame carrying on ahead one step at a time. And when I say tiny, I mean she’s smaller than a dwarf – maybe the size of a five year-old child. Her green skin and wide face give her a froggy-looking appearance that’s only broken up by a long, pointy nose and white hair that droops far below her chin.
“I can’t deny service to one who resolves my riddle,” the witch explains, revealing an incomplete set of crooked teeth as she grins. Yikes. “Now what can I do for you, young lady?” she asks after taking her seat.
I go on to explain my situation to the hag, asking if she has any idea where one might find a gargoyle like Draak and whether or not there is any way for me to achieve the Skittles™ I need to fight back against Necroth.
“One other weird thing has been happening since this morning,” I go on. “This sounds insane, but every time I sneeze, I can smell a fruity scent – and so far every time I’ve sneezed, the Skittles™ that I had to use for the given situation were, in fact, necessary for the situation I was in. Like just a few minutes ago, I sneezed twice, which told me that I needed one lemon and one lime Skittles™ pieces.”
Though as I explain myself to her, the witch almost seems absentminded about the whole thing – like it isn’t important. “ Let me see your palm, then, dear,” she demands, leaning over her desk as I begin to stretch out my hand to her. The hag takes my hand in hers, her delicate, skinny fingers tracing the edges of my palm and making me wish I were somewhere else right now. I’m once again feeling a little sneezy, like something is coming along to tickle the inside of my nose just enough for me to notice – before abruptly leaving me to sniffle and groan in discomfort.
“Ahh…” the witch muses, a smile on her face. “Yes, you have definitely caught yourself in a pickle, it seems. Not good at all…”
So why is she smiling, again?
“You are indeed aware of the power of the Skittles™, however,” she goes on. “It seems that this recent plight of yours is a side-effect of a spell cast upon you.”
“Spell?” I ask. “What spell was cast on me? And who did it?”
“Yes, this magical signature is most familiar to me,” the witch titters. I’m beginning to question how long it’s going to be before she annoys me to the point of hitting her. “It is the signature of Kaard.”
“Who is Kaard?”
“A servant of Necroth, you see,” the witch replies, letting my hand go as I take it back. “Known as the Barricader, Kaard places invisible borders for his victims, rendering them unable to leave a specified area without suffering damage. Though the areas he restricts people to are usually wide-reaching, the invisible barriers are undetectable and unmistakable when they are felt.”
“Wait a minute,” I interrupt, showing her my palm once again as I gesture her to stop. “This isn’t making sense. He restricts me – like he throws me in jail? But the barriers aren’t even solid? What kind of evil manipulator is Kaard, anyway?” As I say that, I can’t help noticing something peculiar about his name; I can’t help but snort when I realize what’s going on. “And are you sure you don’t mean Draak?”
“I am very sure.”
If there wasn’t a low ceiling above my head, I’d be throwing my hands up in the air right now.
So let’s see, then: not only is Necroth after me and not only is Draak missing, but now I have an enemy on my hands whose name is literally Draak, but backwards.
Noticing the witch still hasn’t answered my first question, I clear my throat.
“Oh, yes,” she goes on. “And it seems that the magic from this Barricader is not without its side effects. Tell me, young shepherd: do you know of any Gargoyles?”
I thought I made it clear already that I do know of gargoyles, since I’m looking for one. “Yes,” I reply, groaning. “But I haven’t seen him all day.”
She starts rubbing her hands together. “As I expected!” she says. “So your Gargoyle must be named Draak. He is the reverse image of Kaard.”
“What are you—?”
“Draak is the reverse of Kaard in that Kaard is evil and Draak is not; whatever good existed in Kaard had to go somewhere, and so Draak was created at the same time as him. As a result, the negative magic cast by Kaard has a positive equivalent being cast on you at the very same time.”
This woman has a strange definition of the word positive, but I don’t feel like arguing. If what she says is the case, then that means Draak is the reason why I start to sneeze whenever I need to use a particular taste of the Rainbow for a spell.
That should be all I need to know, then – that there’s someone named Kaard who’s playing with me, but Draak will be able to help lead the way, even if he’s not physically here with me. The trail was all I needed, so surely another trail will come along when I need it – so long as I have my orange Skittles™ with me.
That in mind, I start to get up from the seat. “Thank you very much,” I tell the witch. “I don’t have any money, but I can give you some trinkets if—”
“Pish posh!” the witch said, waving her hand. “You figured out the secret to my door; think of the knowledge I have provided you with today as your reward.”
That’s a pleasant surprise . I thank her one more time before leaving, almost tripping on the way out. With that, I’m back outside , the wind blowing my hair in my face as I step onto the ground and try to figure out where to go next. And, right on cue, I start to feel a tickle in my nose.
Yeah, here we go. It’s just a little niggling right now, but it’s building...at an annoyingly slow pace. I heard that there’s some people out there who sneeze when they look up at the sun, but that has never happened to me. Usually the only thing that makes me sneeze is like…really strong potion smells? I don’t know how else to describe it, but...oh...h-hol—
“hIIT’Z-Zz’tChu!! -snf- hh-hhEESHH-sh’Zzhu! -snf-”
One cherry, one orange. I wonder what that means.
Just as I go to place the Skittles™ in my staff, I see what the warning was about. Two short, goblin-looking things are making a ruckus nearby, charging into this barren neighborhood with maces and warhammers in their hands. Just as they look like they’re about to wreck up the place, I whistle for their attention.
“Hey, losers!” I taunt, reaching into my bag of Skittles™ to show the multiple pieces of forbidden magic I’ve already collected. “Were you looking for these?!”
Of course they were, as they make clear when they start to charge toward me, ready to swing. But I’m ready before they are, launching a fire blast that mows right through them like butter. They fall over like rocks. Game over for them.
Except now something else is starting to build.
“Hheh!...Oh, come on…” I look cross-eyed at my nose, almost like giving it that kind of attention will make the sneeze go away. I can literally see my nostrils flaring as I try to fight it back, but…
“IIhT-Z’SHhew!!!”
Still rubbing my nose, I sniffle and can smell lemons. It’s actually a very strong scent – like multiple lemons shoved in my face all at once.
Just as I’m trying to figure out what I’m supposed to do, I hear more voices out in the distance – like dozens of goblins trying to scurry in here. There’s no way I’m going to be able to take on that many at once.
That’s when I realize: “Invisibility!” Scrambling, I put multiple yellow Skittles™ in my staff and begin to cast a spell that will make me vanish before the goblins’ eyes. I cast the spell before they’ve even entered the fray or realized that I’ve burned two of their own to a crisp.
All of them charge in, looking just as confused as I felt they would be. I can’t help smirking at the way they turn this way and that for me, probably thinking things like “ Who killed Bandy and Bundy? ” or “ Where did that sneeze come from? ” or “ Me hate magic cause me stupid. ” Hey, it’s not a stereotype if it’s true.
N ow as I begin to make my way out, I start to remember one of the things about this spell I hate: it doesn’t last very long. Worse than that, I think I can feel it fading away already. And even worse than both of those things: I have to sneeze again.
Okay, no – I get the message. I just need to cast the spell again and I’ll be fine. No, seriously; go away! I’m rubbing my nose, but it still tickles; I’m doing that thing where you shove a finger under your nose to hold a sneeze back, but it’s still building. I’m in that “ ah...ah… ” part before the “ achoo! ” and I hate it.
“IIIK’Shh’ZZhu! Hh-hiiEEEK-T’zZZshhu!! Hh-hehh..hiiihh...IKSSHh-T’ZZXShEEWw!”
I hate to have to share this, and I’m only guessing because I’m invisible and can’t exactly see myself, but I’m pretty sure I just snotted. I’m cringing so hard!
But that problem is secondary; the goblins are all moving to the source of that noise and my visibility is waning. I’m guessing those three sneezes count for three casts of the same spell, so thank you very much, Draak! I am so tearing those wings off his body when I see him in person again.
With one spell cast, I go on my way, continuing to run from the goblins as they blindly search for me – and every time I feel my spell is about to wear off, I cast it again, and then one last time a few minutes later. By then those monsters are gone
and I’m left wishing I had some tissues.