Wednesday, March 13, 2013

The Snake, The Fox, Miroza and the Mask


The Snake, The Fox, Miroza and the Mask

 It was a normal day for Miroza, dreaming of Jamaa and other things. She was watching Zios craft Ook out of pieces of Jamaa when suddenly, a strong gale whisked her spirit off to Mira's resort....Cloud Peak, a mountain overlooking the Lost Temple Of Mira, where the dream gate fed it's well-being. Miroza rarely bumped her dreams against her mother's, in pain and sorrow for her painful life.

 Amelia wasn't having a normal day, either.
She was watching the stars outside the Alpha Hut when suddenly, Greely pounced on her wearing a Gothic cloak. The black stunned her for a moment, but then Amelia pinned Greely to the ground. The cloak fell off.
 It seemed like Greely had hesitated to pin her and kiss her, because her lovely face seemed to not want wolf slobber all over. Amelia sought out the fault in his pathetic pin.
"Men,"she snarled,"always falling for a pretty face. You ought to go to Cloud Peak and see the true meaning of beauty!" Greely looked shocked, but Amelia gave him a lick anyway, and let him up.
"Greely,"she asked the grey wolf as they both collected themselves,"you don't usually do such things to your girlfriend. Not even Shade experienced this. What on Jamaa is wrong with you?" Amelia looked at Greely's aging face, seeking the smallest crack in his soul for her to see his heart.
"Well, Amelia,"he said after a short period of evaluating what he wanted to say,"I've sensed an abnormal change in Miroza's dreams. We must teleport to Cloud Peak, where all the old Alphas are waiting to be reborn. I hear that the raccoon alpha has been reborn a while ago, and Mira will get him/her to Jamaa...Oh, how Mira erased our memories of the alphas not yet reborn!"
Amelia took Greely with her to Cloud Peak at the word "reborn", but not before letting out a cry to let the other alphas know where she was.

 Miroza put her feet on the clouds, and looked up at Mira perched on a throne of dreams from a time long ago.
Mira smiled. Miroza struggled to smile back.
"Daughter, I wish that we saw each other awake...My, have you grown in your sleep! In my dreams, I have created a son from the souls of your guardian kestrels... So, take Zilch the snake to the Lost Temple Of Zios back in the Beta times, and fuse him to the door and his mask to the curtain. Travel back in time with my blessed powers." Mira said, planning out what she wanted Miroza to do.
"Mom, but why? And my own powers are sufficient  you know, or even this Zilch we know of." Miroza complained. Mira shook her head.
"No, I'll take the pain for you any day, Miroza. Parents do that, although Zios is a bad parent, not attempting to come back for Zilch, you, and to rid Jamaa of the phantoms." Mira looked hurt talking about Zios, so Miroza put the subject aside.
 Just then, Zilch appeared in Miroza's golden talons, wearing a white paper monkey mask. The snake was as wonderful brown, just like wood. Amelia and Greely also appeared, and seeing that Miroza had a job to do, they distracted Mira from the pain of her mana being depleted by chatting with her.
 Miroza used the dream gate to travel back in time, back to the Beta times.

 Nobody recognized her, as they were teaching the young Jammers about Jamaa. Snowyclaw was somewhere in the crowd, as Miroza could sense the little hero in there.
 Miroza crept to the door that would be Brady Barr's lab  years later, and fused Zilch there so that he could watch her sleep peacefully. The snake appeared to be a tribute to snakes, as Jamaasians valued all animal species, so the phantoms wouldn't suspect anything.
Next, Miroza fused the mask to the curtain. The mask was the eyes of Zilch, as the door was only an anchor for his spirit.
"Watch my dreams, O' brother."she whispered to Zilch, and the eyes sprang to life, at least deep in the Dreams.
But Miroza wanted a tribute on the marble to remind Zilch who he was to watch. Miroza scraped the etches of her image in the marble, and traveled back to the present to once again watch her dreams.

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