Hovering closer over Nipal's little star-struck head, the monster drills its many glowing eyes to the pests on the ground. It moans and grumbles protests, wiggling Leonardo, its prize possession, in its scaly grip. Leonardo has provided enormous substance for the monster's appetite; Rooks taste better, for they possess glorious souls and willpower beyond Anavrin. If Nipal desires to save Leonardo, the monster will challenge and keep its delicious prisoner.
Sinai shrinks under the monster's looming power but pushes forward with its humming and buzzing at the equally frightened Nipal. "Your friend will perish! Fight, rabbit, fight back!" the weapon screams in Nipal's rattling noggin; his ears and shoulders flinch from the overwhelming stress, and nothing comes to his mind. Nothing! He can't swing Sinai and tear through the monster like the Rook did. Nipal stares at his suspended, comatose green body: the Rook is mighty and his hands are steel traps and whistle sharp. He glances at his own pinky furry paws, noticing the huge contrast and whimpers over how pathetic he is here. Never in a millennium can he become the hero Anavrin needs. Instead, the hero is a few steps away and deserves the brilliant rescue he would so openly give.
Irritated by Nipal's lack of responsibility, Sinai bolts a stream of power into Nipal's backside, bucking and skidding the rabbit below the Rook's body. He whimpers in his spot but swallows most of his tension and shows the first, rare, signs of anger. His whiskers and puffy, round tail quiver and stand on their ends, and he grumbles under his breath. "How dare that tool electrocute me! I'm doing the best I can!" He stands on his twittering feet, jarring under the monster's aggression for being too close to its prisoner.
The smooth waves of Dreamlight Vista's ocean return to Nipal's mind, brushing over his senses effortlessly. Tool, he repeats slowly, tool, tools. Tools! Yes! He glows with excitement and the anger rolls away with the tides. The Master Rook has powerful weapons in his possession, and if his memory is correct, when a Rook is incapacitated, his or her weapons moves down the chain. The Retainer and next in line, Zera, isn't here either so a jubilant Nipal twiddles his paws and holds them high above his head, reciting, "In fear we perish; in you, we live," as a gentle breeze strokes his long ears behind his back, "no Rook, no Retainer. Last eye, the Reformer," the Vista's coolness washes over his mind and he closes his eyes for the final phrase, "bares the sword and shield to protect us all."
Over this small hill, compared to the many other larger ones, six dots of pulsating light beacons through the dimming spotlight trapped under the monster's destructive, knotty umbrella. The spotlight fades, infuriating the monster and blaring its roars over the terrain, but the strong little lights remain. Sinai stands back and proudly watches Nipal stand on his tippy toes and pluck the first light he touches. Instantaneously, the flash evolves into an illuminating croquet mallet, and Nipal's eyes widen from the glimmering showcase. He reaches for another light, and it too pops into a stout iron fire-tool; both weapons are eager at their shot against the enemy, and instead of waiting for Nipal, pockets of light rocket behind them as the mallet and fire tool launch for the monster. Flabbergasted, Nipal dances in circles, clapping and cheering for the magical weapons; they hack and slash at the tentacle monster, ignoring the wails and sloppy attacks from its giant prongs. The fury and momentum of the battle detonates an earthquake across the land. The hopeful rabbit trips over his baggy red jump-suit, clutching the ground and hiding behind his ears. Sinai fries his fluffy tail and points at the remaining lights. "Oh, yes," Nipal mumbles and cautiously takes two more in his grasp. A few sparkles later, a silver satchel and a pink, diamond studded telephone box materialize and float above his head. "Will you fight, too?" he asks, eyes glowing. The monster's screams are deafening and many of its extensions are hacked off their hinges. The Rook's weapons blaze and swing through the enemy's fort, and their efforts sever the monster's hold on Leonardo. He falls to the ground with a light bump, bundles of dead tentacles falling around him.
Nipal rushes to his aid and taps him on the shoulder repeatedly. "Master Rook! Are you okay? Master Rook!" He flinches from the noise and fragmented pieces of magic bouncing off his head. A groggy Leonardo stirs, blinking and swiveling his head. Nipal stutters and pats his Rook's right shoulder. "Let-let me hel-help you, M-Master. Can you s-see?"
"Yes," comes the hoarse response from Leonardo's stiff lips, and he takes a moment to regain his senses again. Nipal misunderstands the silence and flails back and forth, whimpering and tripping over his feet. Another laser strike from Sinai raises Nipal's decibels, and the poor sizzling rabbit continues fretting over his Master. His worries are elevated when the phone box and the final light diffuse into microscopic dots and vanish. If his heart could break, it would litter the ground and sparkle bright!
Unaware, Sinai taps Nipal on the shoulder and prompts him to look at the sky. The silver satchel opens wide and diligently vacuums the space around it, including the monster. It yells for mercy and flaps its stumps wildly, but it is soon melted into a thin flow of air and deposited in the satchel. The world around Nipal, Sinai, and Leonardo is quiet and slow.
Leonardo enlivens once more, opening his eyes fully and staring into the gray sky. A set of bulgy black eyes return his glance. He whispers, "Nipal. Your glasses," and the rabbit cries from joy, blubbering nonsense, scratching his ears, and blissfully unaware of Leonardo's fall back into silence. Nipal hops around Sinai's levitating form and blows kisses through the air. How silly it is an enchanted tool notices something wrong before its magician. Alas, the rabbit prematurely celebrates.
Leonardo barely recalls the actual fight with the sand demons; instead, the endless sand diamonds weigh him down and disconnect him from his own body. Even with his eyes open wide and facing a pretty sky, sitting up, moving his legs and arms, and turning his head aren't easy tasks anymore. The limbs we take for granted, he reflects, blinking more each time and hoping his senses return. Nipal bounces in and out of his view: one ear here, a hand there. Is he under attack? What's wrong with him? The turtle warrior forces more will power into his limbs, wiggling a finger and toe. Noise feels distant, a mile away and dipped in cotton. Surely Nipal is making noise with his running about and fidgeting. Leonardo quickly remembers how the demons won through his negligence, his impatience.
Breathe, breathe... Focus. Move your limbs. Move the last toe; the last finger. Yes. Focus more, and move your wrists and ankles. It's all a wave, a pattern, an almost beautiful diagram in this obstructed illusion.
His body slowly obeys the commands. The neck is the last soldier in line, and he winces from the spiky ache, turning right to face the excited rabbit.
"Nipal?" The name rumbles from his throat and he assumes it flows through the mouth. Nipal stops in his pow-wow and stares dumbfounded at his master.
"Master Rook!" Nipal's bottom lip quivers, and he shrinks. "You don't look so well."
Leonardo sees Nipal's mouth moving but the words collapse. He tries his tongue once more. "Nipal. Zera."
Overcome with sniffles, Nipal meekly glances up at Sinai and back to Leonardo. "I'm, I'm sorry. She's- she's not here. I-I was hoping she w-was with," he swallows, rubbing the tip of his ear, "with you."
Again, the words are lost to Leonardo. "Zera." He flaps his tongue and pushes open his jaw, exclaiming, "Zera!" He can hear more of his own words now. Concrete focus. He struggles saying her name over and over, and tiny Nipal watches him pitifully. The intensity and force dries his throat raw, nerve edges stinging. His next two syllables, "Water", hisses from his nostrils, and his body gives way. Back to a coma, the Rook goes, with his rabbit pal whimpering and pining for him to return.
Once he opens his eyes again, Leonardo faces a narrow alleyway lined with red, yellow, and white buildings on both sides. He extends his arms and touches rough, cracked siding through his fingers; his feet brush over temperate, cobbled street. Something feels uneasy, disconnected about his whole body; his back seems lighter, without the bulk of his shell that he normally expects. Arms and legs lift quicker. The issue needs more investigating, but a simple look down at himself is a chore. His head arches forward quickly, shaking his balance, and he uses the buildings to anchor.
What is the matter with my body? Get a handle on yourself, a sharp voice lances in his head, but even the thoughts sound foreign to him. Everything feels so alien, and a tinge of irritation bites him over the matter. He slowly pushes a shaky foot forward, still holding tight on the buildings and yearning to see his feet. A puff of air dangles around the ankles, and a grainy cloth sweeps across them. Is he wearing a trenchcoat? A cloak? He's dressed in some kind of long fabric: one mystery solved. One more solid step. Yes! Two more. And three. Balance seems restored around his feet, and his irritation subsides momentarily. Patience, patience, but I need to get moving. So, move, Self. Move! Again, he doesn't like the tone of voice rattling in his brain. While he gets moody occasionally, small things never frustrate him, except when one of his brothers forgets to do a chore after he's reminded them all week then half the day.
Stop wasting time. I need to find him...
Find who? Him? Nipal? One of his brothers?
He's somewhere in this country.
Okay, Leonardo consciously regresses a step, who am I looking for, and furthermore, where am I?
No response after a few moments of waiting. His vision ripples, but he braces and holds steady. Noise has been non-existent since awakening, but a small amount filters through his ears. Naturally, he can't make sense of it, and now his own frustration wrinkles through his veins. It's difficult getting familiar with this disjointed sensation, but he tries relentlessly by shuffling his feet and nodding his head until seeing lined colors works again. Leonardo sighs with relief and gradually peers over his clothing: a large deep blue top with long sleeves over his wrists and hanging over his hips; a heavy black scarf hides most of his face and a lighter blue shaw drapes over the shoulders; and the bottom garment is really a gray skirt stopping at his ankles, and thin black shoes cover his white feet.
White feet? Someone's furry white feet.
Its hands are white and dark brown paws with fine claws, not a speck of green or reptilian features anywhere. Before he can formalize the next thought, the white hands and feet are moving down a crowded street of vendors, small vehicles, and people on bicycles. Nothing about the place is familiar. Tanned-skin, dark eyed people glance at whoever he is, some stare, and wide-eyed, bubbly children in dirty t-shirts and knee-length shorts stampede by him, all throwing sideway peeks and tugging on its skirt.
In the next jump of weirdness, a damp object smacks him in the face, and his legs and heart on fire from a marathon. Colors and objects are puddles in his vision again, flashing by in seconds and blending together. More wet objects gash and burn his cheeks, body is ready to fall over from exhaustion, and particles of his clothes are ripped to shreds, exposing skin and fur. The person's haggard breaths pound in his head, clouding his hearing. His feet trip from something on the ground, and he lands painfully on his side, catching his breath. The world around him swirls into view; he looks into the face of a wild, vivid jungle: a normal one from his land, not the eclectic Blue Sung Thicket.
Staying on the ground, the tiny voice returns in a slow embrace. I'll never see you again if I can't control my emotions and keep my head straight.
He knows then who it is, who he's been sharing the same mind and body, but they're unaware of the other. Zera, I'll find you. Stay where you are.
Zera's body lifts off the soggy ground and drags next to a tree. From his view, the jungle is a beautiful, animated place. Sunbeams pour through cracks between the trees and swaying limbs. He's heartbroken she is alone and doesn't know he's there. Her hands grab a ball of jungle soil, and she's emotionally shaken. How hopeless he feels over how helpless she is.
No matter how much he says or how loud he tries to be, she can't hear him. She can't feel him. She sits alone in the jungle, bleeding and broken, and he floats further and further away until the jungle goes black, and his eyes stare into a gray sky with winged animals circling over him.
"Master Rook! Please wake up!" comes Nipal's terrified squeals and timid shakes on Leonardo's shoulder. "The Lucaracs are here!"
The natural feeling of his old self returns, limbs and all, and Leonardo bolts upright at Nipal's persistence. He doesn't waste a moment and urges towards Nipal, "Can you transform? It's the only way out of here."
Nipal fiddles his hands and waddles from foot to foot until he remembers how to transform into the giant purple walrus, his watery eyes darting around the place. Leonardo's feet tremor under the rush, but he sweeps up Sinai and breaks for the air-lifting Nipal. A blue stream cruises from the Lucaracs in Leonardo's direction, and he dodges it, almost tripping on his feet. More streams, faster this time, rain from the sky and thrash around his body, coiling and steaming as they smash in the ground. Leonardo leaps a great distance from the last stream onto Nipal, weighing down the poor walrus-rabbit who doesn't expect such a load on him at once. The Lucaracs' screeching cries in the air give Nipal the fuel he needs to blast from the demon mountain. Raising Sinai in the air, Leonardo aims for the closest enemy and releases as much silver power from the weapon as possible. Drapes of sparkles collide into a diving Lucarac, stunning it and dropping it out of the sky.
Nipal's flight zig-zags the determined Lucaracs and their spouts of power cascading from their contorted beaks. Menacing creatures with bald yellow heads and soul-less emerald eyes, the Lucaracs' scattered feathers whip in uneven unison on their scrawny bodies, rising and falling during the onslaught. A pair of Lucaracs bursts from the line and surround Nipal and Leonardo on both sides.
"Faster, Nipal; you have to go faster!" Leonardo screams over the wind and bedlam. Sinai glows intensely in his grip, and before he can lift the weapon for another attack, one of the two Lucaracs collides into the turtle, shaking Nipal's balance and Sinai almost out of his grip. The second Lucarac squawks and headbutts Leonardo, forcing him between the two birds as they flap violently and obscure his vision. He grabs Sinai tight in his grip again and uses both hands to summon power, but the right side Lucarac snatches it with its beak and dashes away. Flabbergasted, Leonardo reaches for the bird without thinking, and the left side Lucarac uses the opportunity and shoves Leonardo right off Nipal and helpless into the sky.
Noticing the weight difference, Nipal puts on the brakes and slams the remaining Lucarac into his hefty backside. "Master Rook!" Nipal ignores the throbbing pain in his rear and dives after Leonardo. His heroics are cut short; the winged troublemakers gang on him and attack with their blue fires and barbed talons and beaks.
The last thing he witnesses is the Rook's body getting smaller over the ocean, and a sparkling object falling fast with him.
Next chapter: Leo and Zera reunite, and Leo returns home, but the adventure is far from over.