Mistica Chronicles


Welcome to Issue 47

Lugia Winning Entry

The day had been wonderful; presents, holiday cheer, and bonding time amongst families. But now dusk was falling upon Mistica. And all the living creatures, whether they be young or old; Tarinooki or Kirui, knew of the Boreal Hour.

The Boreal Hour itself was a miniscule slice of Mistmas, a mere hour in the day of festivities. But it was a dangerous one. For you see, on the eve of each Mistmas, Queen Boreal plotted. She paced the floors of her iced palace, putting all the little touches on her spell, all the little details that would change the end result dramatically. And each Mistmas thus far, her plans had failed miserably. Where was Pandoria during this plotting, you might ask?

See, Pandoria could only do so much on the front of keeping Boreal at bay each Mistmas, and during the hour she had to recover and rest, the Queen would be able to do virtually whatever she pleased. And this Mistmas, she knew her plan was foolproof. A year of planning, choosing, and watching her victim would be worth it. What was her plan, exactly?

She was going to steal another's body for the hour.

Her specimen was so perfect. A simple schoolgirl, the Gourix she chose was the definition of undetectable. And on that very Boreal Hour, the Queen put her plan to action. A drop of Cheran sweat, the feather of a Phelocan, and the tooth of a Kratork all thrown into a pot made of ice proved to form a potent potion. Cackling at her successful brew, Queen Boreal drank the swirling potion in one swig.

“I'm here. Finally, her body's all mine!" The Queen whispered excitedly.

“What was that, Ali?" A Skillow to her right questioned. Turning to her comrade nervously, she thought to herself.

“I was expecting the little brat to be alone when I would switch with her! Now I've got to deal with her friend!" Clearing her throat, Boreal (disguised as Ali) smiled.

“I... was just wondering what we're doing out... you know it's the Boreal Hour, right? I heard some kid got abducted by Queen Boreal last year." The Skillow laughed.

“As if! Boreal Hour means nothing to anyone anymore. Are you sure you're feeling alright? You sound a little stuffed up," She paused and looked at a watched wrapped loosely around her wing as a worried expression crossed her face.“Anyways, we've got to get to the celebration hall!" Grabbing her friend by the arm, the Skillow half-literally dragged the Gourix along. When the two finally reached the town hall -- a large, joyously decorated building in the middle of the town -- the Skillow finally slowed down.

Ali had to stop herself from using a spell on the annoyingly cheerful Skillow. She herself hated Mistmas: all of the cheer and good will sickened her. And her hatred grew as the Skillow dragged her closer to the entrance. What would happen when they finally reached the doors? Would there be a feast laid out on a richly adorned table? Or would there be more of these Skillows inside?

Finally, the pair reached the doors, which were open, and light but cheery music floated out to the streets from within. As if she had a choice, the Gourix walked into the hall and was immediately awestruck by the bright and shiny decorations. At that moment, a spark, a tiny, tiny spark ignited somewhere in her. A wide, jolly smile spread across her face as she seperated from her friend to go greet the other guests.

And all the guests that Mistmas night could've sworn they heard the cries of Boreal herself, her very essence returning to the bitter, cursed palace she called her home. But Ali had returned, and Boreal had been thwarted once more, all thanks to the pure power of Mistmas spirit. But don't assume she's left for good -- for on the hour Pandoria rests, the Boreal Hour begins...