Thursday, May 21, 2026

Return to Lynwood, Chapter 14

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7
Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14

As Isengrim set Terra down, Pharazon spread out his arms to ward the others away, before stepping toward the staff. “Everybody stay back,” he said. “I don’t know what this thing’s capable of.”

Suhel’s ears were flat against her skull. “Pharazon, are you sure you know what you’re doing?” she asked. She hovered near the edge of the group, but a squeeze of her paw from Lexora seemed to keep the Werelupe from bolting.

“Either I take it,” Pharazon said, “or someone else does. I know what risk I like better.” He crouched down, stretched out a hand to the staff, took in a deep breath, and grabbed it.

 

A buzzing filled the air and Pharazon closed his eyes, deep concentration furrowing his brow. The mist seemed to suddenly grow thick and alive around everyone, setting the Werelupes’ fur on edge. This was magic, Isengrim knew, a magic so strong even he could feel it. Beside him, Connor looked amazed and terrified, while Terra held tight to Isengrim’s paw.

Pharazon pulled the staff from where it had lain for fifteen years and opened his eyes, which glowed cyan for a moment before the light faded. Within the crook, the mist congealed, turning an ethereal blue, and there it hung suspended, slowly swirling like little dancing phantoms. The Draik’s breathing was heavy and focussed as he stood up. As though it took the greatest effort, he made his way back to Terra, step by deliberate step. The mist within the staff continued to swirl, but the heavy magic in the air faded back to levels beneath Isengrim’s notice.

“Terra,” Pharazon said, looking up at her. “I think I’ve found my implement.”

The human’s eyes widened. Isengrim felt a jolt of shock pass through him. The others looked equally surprised. The Werelupes holding up the block nearly let go of it before they remembered what they were doing and lowered it down carefully.

“Are… are you sure?” Terra asked.

Pharazon looked down at the staff. It was longer than he was tall, made of some sort of twisted wood so old that it had turned blue-grey. “It called to me…” he said. “I’ve never felt anything else feel so… right. Like it was waiting here just for me…” He blinked and looked over to his Werelupe brother. “Isengrim, where did you get this?”

“That,” Isengrim said, mesmerised by the ghostly swirls, “is the Staff of the Deep Forest. It was once one of Hubrid Nox’s prized possessions, although it pre-dates even his rise to power, and may be one of the oldest things in the Haunted Woods.” He looked up at Suhel, who seemed like she was going to be sick. “Although we do not study the magickal arts, we believe it may have even formed spontaneously from the magicks of the Woods itself. It likes to do such things from time to time. The staff seems to be imbued with some of the Woods’ own power.”

Pharazon nodded, but followed Isengrim’s gaze to the second-in-command. The Draik’s ears fell. “What’s wrong, Suhel? It’s… it’s not a bad artefact, is it?”

Suhel gave Lexora’s paw a squeeze like the Kougra was her lifeline. “Well—you see—it’s the reason I’m afraid of magic,” Suhel said.

Pharazon studied the staff again, shaking his head slowly before looking back to his friend. “Why?” he asked. “What happened?”

She took a deep breath that nearly turned into a sob halfway through. “Me and a few other packmates—we found it years ago on a nightly hunt,” she explained. “We found a cache of magical artefacts, just the thing to add to Lord Isengrim’s hoard—but we didn’t realise we were on Hubrid Nox’s estate.” Her tail curled under. “He found us… and started slinging spells. I was hit with a hex something bad. They had to carry me back to the keep… nothing in my life had ever hurt as much as that evil magic.” Shuddering, she ducked her head. “I barely survived.”

“I’m so sorry,” Pharazon said.

“As am I,” Isengrim said. “This staff nearly cost me one of my best warriors. It was not worth it.” He looked aside. “I always felt guilty about keeping it… but after everything you had gone through to procure it for me, I could not bring myself to part with it.”

Pharazon drummed his fingers on the wood. “Maybe that’s why it didn’t let itself get scavenged when the keep fell. It sensed you didn’t want it.”

“Oh, bother your stupid sentimentality,” Suhel said to Isengrim. “We’ve found the cursed thing—let’s destroy it so it can never hurt anyone again.”

“But it’s Pharazon’s implement,” Isengrim said. “Who knows if he may find another one that fits him.” He reached down to pat the little Draik’s head. “And I think he is more than qualified to wield it responsibly.”

“Thanks,” Pharazon said, “but if it makes Suhel uncomfortable then I don’t want it.” Still, he stared at the staff longingly. Isengrim could tell it was not something Pharazon wished to part with, that he knew in his heart it wasn’t right, but he cared more about appeasing his friend.

Isengrim understood Suhel’s fear, but that did not mean that fear should limit another. “No,” he said. “You keep it. If you feel it is yours to wield, then it is yours. You are a thoughtful mage, Pharazon, and you have gained much wisdom from your experiences. You are the Neopet I trust the most with that staff.”

“I’m not sure if it’s wise to trust anything the Haunted Woods made, though,” Pharazon said, looking quite resigned. “It’s not exactly a nice place.”

“Some parts of it can be nice,” Lexora said, folding her arms. “I mean, I live here, after all.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Pharazon said.

“The Haunted Woods is a dangerous land, this is true,” Isengrim said, “that attracts all manner of evil, but I do not think it would be right to call the Woods itself evil. Rather it is ancient, and powerful, and certainly not to be trifled with. Like much else in Neopia, it simply is, and how we use it is up to us.”

Terra ruffled the wavy spines on her Draik’s head. “This is just a hunch,” she said, “but maybe it chose you because it trusted you wouldn’t be corrupted by its power.” She smiled. “Think positive.”

Pharazon smiled weakly. “Thanks. I sure hope you’re right.” He sighed and turned away. “Don’t worry, Suhel. I wouldn’t dream of doing any spellcasting with this thing yet, not until Celice and I get a good long look at it. I’ve got to make sure it’s stable and I know what I’m doing with it, so my magic doesn’t come out more powerfully than I mean it to. And you can be far away when that happens.”

“Thanks—runt,” Suhel choked, feeling a familiar hitch in her throat. She clenched her eyes shut and began to cough. This time it was so bad that it drove her to her knees, and Lexora held her friend’s shoulders while the Werelupe fought to breathe.

“I suppose that means you can’t heal my leg,” Isengrim said. “Or teleport us all to Lynwood.”

Pharazon tore his eyes away from Suhel to look up at the king. “I’m sorry, but I can’t take that risk. I might do more harm than good.” His grip on the staff twisted. “And the last thing I want to do is accidentally hurt someone with my magic. Those sorts of spells are way out of my league, anyway.”

“I doubt you’ll have cause to use it on this journey,” Isengrim said. “We’re going to Lynwood next, and there’s naught there but cobwebs and curses. Although I will have to take us on a bit of a longer route to circumvent Vakhtang’s territory.”

“Fine by me,” Connor said. “I never want to see him again.”

“Ugh… sorry about that, milord,” Suhel said, pounding her chest as she stood up again. “Aye, let’s get to Lynwood and get this nasty curse taken care of. Then Lexora and I can have our lives back.”

As they returned to Gwyneth, Suhel walked on the other side of the group from Pharazon. His ears drooped and he shook his head.

“She’ll come around,” Isengrim said. “That staff was meant for you, I am sure of it.”

“Thanks,” Pharazon said, not looking up from the ground. “I guess I should find some way to carry this thing. I think I can construct a shoulder sling out of some twine.”

“My thanes and I can help you craft something,” Isengrim said.

The Draik nodded. “Okay.” Breaking away from the rest of the party, he moved toward Gwyneth to rub the Ganuthor’s head and receive several sloppy licks from her big pink tongue.

Out of the corner of his vision, Isengrim noticed the absence of a familiar figure. He turned to see that Terra had halted and was staring back at the rock pile. He turned and surveyed it as well. He didn’t know when he would be back here again. The memories still ran strong—good and bad.

He knelt down next to her and put his paws on her shoulders. “Terra,” he said, “I am so sorry for all that you experienced here. My selfishness was responsible for your fear here, and it brings me deep sorrow.”

Terra looked at him for a moment, then leaned in to hug him. “I forgive you,” she said. “I understand why you did it, and I’m not mad at you.” Looking up at him, she smiled. “You know… even though a lot of scary things happened here… I’m grateful that it brought us together. So much good came out of that in the end. Look at all that’s happened since then.” Her smile widened. “And one of my favourite parts of it all is that we got to be friends.”

“Thank you,” Isengrim said, bumping his nose to her head. “I am so glad we are friends. I am so grateful you are my owner.”

“What just happened?” Pharazon suddenly asked.

Isengrim looked over to see the Draik perched atop Gwyneth, scanning the mist around him, still holding the staff tightly. “What do you mean?” the Werelupe King asked.

“Well,” Terra said, “we just had a really nice heart-to-heart and got some good closure.”

“No, not that,” Pharazon said. “The negative energy is gone.” He looked down at his staff. “Was it something I did…” he muttered. “No, I’m just trying to contain its magic…”

Terra looked around. “Oh, you’re right. It… it doesn’t feel sad here anymore.” She clapped her hands. “I’m so glad! This place is okay now, Isengrim!”

“That is good,” Isengrim said. “Are you sure it was not something you did, Master Magus?” he asked Pharazon as the Werelupe King and his owner joined the group.

 “I don’t think so…” Pharazon said. As Terra clambered onto Gwyneth, Pharazon looked over his shoulder at her and his eyes narrowed. “I don’t think it was something I did,” he said under his breath as he commanded Gwyneth to move.

Isengrim caught the words and looked over at Terra, who hadn’t seemed to have heard. He did not really understand what was going on, but he was glad that things here were better for them both. Not just that, but things between them were better. As the company pushed back into the depths of the forest, leaving the old ruins to slumber once more, Isengrim had a bit of a spring in his march in spite of his injury.

While it was true that he and Terra had gotten along ever since he’d opened up to her, now he felt as though everything between them had truly been set right. The bond they had was stronger than ever. He felt as though with her by his side, he could do anything, even break a noxious curse. And that was just what he aimed to do now.

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