Mistica Chronicles


Welcome to Issue 52
Created by The Mistic Pets Team

The Fox and the Fables Part 2
Written By TheBrokenFox

A young overgrown Zokuleon grew in a clearing of a lovely forest. His trunk-like tail was of the finest citrus wood and his branches, bearing beautiful and delicious oranges, were sweet and fragrant. He loved his spot in the clearing, as it gave him enough sunlight to stay warm and enough cover to be protected. Across the clearing grew an old wise overgrown Ahbruis, who had watched the forest grow and prosper around him. The Ahbruis had known the Zokuleon since he was just a sprout, and was humbled by the Zokuleon's cheerful demeanor.



A Vix, hungry and tired from being lost in the forest came to the clearing for rest. The Vix looked upon the Zokuleon's plump oranges and smiled.



“What beautiful oranges you have there! So big and plump, may I try one?” she asked sweetly.



“Of course you may. If I do say so myself, they are quite delicious. I cannot reach them now, however, as my branches are too heavy for me to lift them. Pick one, if you please,” the young Zokuleon replied.



The Vix indeed tried an orange, and when she was finished, picked clean his whole tree. The Zokuleon could only look dumbfounded as the Vix walked away with her bounty. The Zokuleon cried and cried, and the old wise Ahbruis could say only this:

“Never trust one who flatters you on first impression.”


An old Braenon sat in a rocking chair on a hot summer's day. Her neighbors were making a ruckus, stirring the air with complaints. It seemed that money was tight and their kitchen had flooded, and they had no insurance to boot. The elder listened to the couple bicker and worry over all the small details of their lives. The woman walked back and forth vigorously with her hands clasped together. The man walked with one hand on his forehead and one on his hip. They stayed like this for hours, talking and talking about what they were to do.



Eventually the old Braenon had enough of the bickering. She hollered for them to come over and soon they sat on the porch with the old woman. In a sturdy voice, she told them:

“Worry is like this old rocking chair; it gives you something to do but gets nothing done.”


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