Mistica Chronicles

Welcome to Issue 6

puredream Winning Entry

This couldn’t be happening again.
Zamuel was lost.
Just like last year.
And he had no idea where to go.

“Uh, Zamuel… I think we are losssst.”

“Yeah, Zal. I ssssseee that.” Zamuel watched his shest znake friend slither over rather impatient.

Zal had a habit of pausing every centimeter to scent the air for danger before continued on, never truly sure that he had done it properly. And when he slide over the slightest of unexpected terrain, he would like back - if there ever was a znake who could do such thing - into a defensive coil until he found the coil.

“Well you sssstop that!” Zamuel found himself hissing out, “We haven’t got all day!”

This happened every year.
Every freaking year.

“But Zamuel! We are lossst! I’m sssscared! ”

“I see that, Zal.” Zamuel rolled his eyes, turning away to slither on down the sandy beach they had found themselves acquainted with rather then the nice lush grass of Rordon Village. Their friends and family where most likely there, passing through on their way to their summer home. Zamuel would have to find a way there by nightfall.

“But we are by the ssssea! I hate the ssssea!” Zal continued to whine.

“Do you want to get home or not?” Zamuel answered the scared znake. He was returned with a whimper. “Then thissss way.”



“Alrightsss. You don’t hasss to be ssssoo mean.”

“Then sssstop being ssssoo ssssensssitive.” Zamuel shot back as they continued down the coastline. As a sand znake Zamuel did not mind so much the moving of the rubble on the beach and as long as he stayed out of the water he was content to wander it - unlike Zal who was afraid of everything.

The breeze was cool and sweet against the znakes’ hot skin. It was so unusually pleasant that they even took a moment to stretch out in the sand. It felt wonderful to bask there in the sun that soon they found themselves dozing off.

“Hey, Zamuel,” Zal yawned.

“What issss it?” Zamuel could hardly reply as his eyelids drooped closed.

“There’ssss a lighthousssse up ahead. With sssssome anya coming thissss way.”


“He’sss coming thisss way! Hey, Zamuel? Zamuel?”

Zamuel was lost to Zal’s frantic pleas, despite the pitch growing far more alarmed then usual. He was asleep. He was asleep on the warm, prefect sand. And he refused to listen.

The anya, in question, was none other then Makoto looking for some sort of beach rubbish to sell to his high-class clientele. A pretty shell or two would do the trick, he thought to himself as he reached down to collect them. To his astonishment a small shest znake slithered away from him.

“Darn things!” Makoto recoiled. “Pests are what they are! First I have to deal with cooties! Now this!” The feline spat out his protests in disgust. Whacking Day was a day he could never win. Who wanted to buy merchandise when they could those znakes for free! They were always wandering haphazardly around anyway.

Just then something caught Makoto’s eye making it gleam. Well, maybe there was away to market this znake frenzy after all… He rubbed his paws together as he picked up a stray sand znake sleeping near his paw. He was bound to loot someone’s pocket book.


When Zamuel woke up, he felt sticky.
Like he had been covered in jam.
In fact, he tasted like it.

“Come one! Come all! Come and see the very rare and very elusive Jelly Znake!” A voice boomed into a loud speaker, “Only twenty-five thousand to see! Get your looks in, because he will be sold very soon! Only one in the world! That’s right, folks! Only one Jelly Znake in existence in all of Mistica!”
“What’sss going on?” Zamuel wondered rubbing his eyes with his tail. They were suddenly filled with grape jelly causing them to sting. “Oussssch!”

“Ah! Look mama! He got jam in his eyes!” A little creature squealed.

“Hey, kid!” The voice on the microphone boomed up, “Don’t touch the merchandise.”

“Huh? Merchandissse? Whossse that?” Zameul questioned.

“I think they mean you.” Zal’s meek hiss informed him.

“Zal? Where are you?” Zamuel tried to scent his friend, sensing his way down the table.

“Oh no you don’t!” The voice stopped Zamuel with its paws, “You are going to sit quietly until you are sold.”

“MAKOTO! This creature must be studied and learned from. Not sold as an exotic pet.” A more feminine voice spoke up. Zamuel could just make out the rosy red cheeses and fiery hair of the woman who it belonged too.

“Yeah, yeah, lady. If you want to do that, then you have to pay just like everyone else.” The Makoto in question set Zameul back on the shelf being careful to slather another layer of jam on the znake when he was certain no one was looking. “The auction is at three if you want to bid in the ‘name of science.’”

“Why you!” The lady began before launching into a tirade. This Makoto fellow seemed pretty intent to arguing with her likewise as customers backed up to give the pair room.

“Zameul,” Zal’s voice hissed out again, “Down here, quickly!”

This time Zameul wasted no time slithering down the table he was on to his companion. “What happened to me?” He asked Zal.

“I don’t know! But let’sssss get out of here.”


The two znakes slithered out of Makoto’s shop and back onto the beach.

“Hey, Zamuel?”

“What issss it, Zal?”

“Where are we going?”

This couldn’t be happening again.
Zamuel was lost.
Just like last year.
And he had no idea where to go.