Burning Luster

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“Evil!” That’s what my mother said, not that I remember her much, not her eyes, her face, her smell, just her voice, conjuring those words, conjuring them to me. They said she went mad soon after my birth, if you could call it that. I was told that my name was Bassler Baby, I don’t know who said it, I just remember that name.
The meadow had grass and
shrubs so tall that even my malformed figure could be hidden, could be
safe. I feel like I spent a whole lifetime there, teaching myself how to
live, how to survive, until a rift in space had been opened beneath me,
and I fell. The one who I
met was called InfernoChaos, and the talent of his Spell Crafters had
been such to open a place where both he and I could exist, so that we
could occupy the same space, and I can find out my Birthright, my reason
for existing. I was to be their saviour, the
DaemonAngel’s, a spell was cast to bring me forth, but what the
casters of the spell did not know, couldn’t have known, was the other
world to which they were tapping into. For
a creature that is the Light version of themselves exists in this world,
a creature called the Ixi, in a world called Neopia.
By brining me forth, they, the Spell Casters, were tapping into
the innocent nature of the then young Ixi. So I was born to an Ixi, and
an Ixi was born to a DaemonAngel, well I say born. For one cycle of the
DaemonAngels time, 50 in the Ixi’s time hade passed.
And now they were part of Neopia, coming from Meridell, to laugh
and play and sing, until I came in screaming. DaemonAngels aren’t born like the Ixi is, we are birthed from the ground, left there to gestate, there in the grey mud flaps, with the black hills of Rangor in the distance, where only grey light seems daring enough to venture, and no one will go. For all DeamonAngels are born emmiting a high pitched wail, a scream so terrible that it is said to drive all those who hear it mad, this is why young DeamonAngels are forced to birth on the Kieratu Wastelands, and then, it is hoped, none will stray past there Birthing Boaerd.
Young Daemon’s know instinctively which way to go, where they must walk to find their kin, it must have been awful for the young Doe, falling out of the Wastelands, without the Scream, without a soul to guide her, and without the instincts that drive a Daemon. They said they found her days after the date for the Birthing, for Daemon’s know it to an art, they saw her lying on the ground, wasting, dying, this was when they knew that something had gone terrible wrong. I pity her, for coming into a world in which she does not belong, for being forbidden to return. It was told to me that none may cross the worlds, the two aren’t even supposed to know about each other, so she cannot take my place here, and I cannot go home, for if we did, it would undo both worlds.
After coming out of the rift,
I was captured by the Pound. They
found me grotesque, hideous, so they put me in a curtained cage where
none would have to look upon me, and none did.
I cannot begin to fathom how long I was in that cage, with only
the occasional hoof or paw reaching through the curtain to feed me, and
I had come to call it home, but this was to change. That day taught me that you will find compassion and comfort in the place you least expected, that place, for me, was in a creature who entered the Pound that day, a creature who’s type I had smelt and known before, but this one had been the first, this one had been the only one to draw back the curtain. She had gasped, perhaps by my appearance, perhaps by the cruelty with which I was treated, but, even so, and to the protest of the staff at the pound, she adopted me, she took me to her home, where the others were afraid of me, they even had meetings about me, bar one. For she saw in me something of herself, I was to find her to be stronger than I had given her credit, something, which I now realize, she gets from her father. And thanks to them, I know things about myself that I did not before.
And so we lived, for a time, for the shortest time, in a peace which I had never known, but, like I said, it was only for a time.
For the most part, the world
didn’t tend to notice me, nor anything to do with me, but now, as the
Fire burns up the sky over Terror Mountain, and the Kieratu Wastelands
appear in the Lost Dessert, the world notices, now Neopia pays attention
as the sky starts to fall in. |
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So gather now, the sources of Power
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Gather now the shinning ones
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Join me now, those who make the difference
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Join me now, and Save the World! |
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