Mistica Chronicles


Welcome to Issue 9

Lugia Winning Entry

Impeccable, Lance thought as he ruffled the collar of the season's last gown. Such fine workmanship, yes, what else would one expect from Mistica's finest stylist? He glanced out his shop's window, the large glass pane gazing upon the street outside with distaste. I never did like Inferno Terrain. Nobody knows the first thing about being fashionable. Lance paused as an ungainly Haruba sauntered by, wearing the most gaudy-looking attire he'd ever seen. Save for me, that is.
The Cheran pushed a fell of hair from his eyes and turned his attention back to the gown. It was ivory in color, cut just above the knee and sewn of the finest fabrics. Woven into it's bodice were rubies polished by the master jewelsmith Soraya. The gems glimmered like stars on a clear night when they caught the light. It's a shame someone must buy it, really.
He never saw the burger coming.
It crashed through the window with such speed that the flames dancing atop its bun seemed a tail. Glass and barbecue sauce alike sailed about the room in an explosion of sound. All Lance could do was duck and pray to Pandoria none of the projectiles soiled his blazer.

His mind was racing as he dared peek at the scene. Mannequins lay toppled on the floor, whatever they'd been showcasing flung in their fall. Glass and bits of debris were scattered about, and amidst it all was the culprit -- a Flaming Burger, for the most part looking unscathed. A few sesame seeds had been knocked loose from the top bun, but aside from that, no damage had been done.

The same could not be said for the gown Lance had been admiring moments before. "No!" the Cheran gasped, reaching towards the fabric but pulling away at the last moment. His paw closed around air. It's ruined.

When at last he drew the strength to handle the dress, Lance was overcome with sorrow. The rubies that had once ornamented the bodice so prettily lay scattered about the gown, the tiny stones jarred from their places by the missile. Snaking across sleeve to sleeve was a rip in the fabric, but it was dwarfed by a great splotch of grease just below the neckline.

Suddenly angry, Lance tossed the ragged dress to the floor and pounced on the burger, snatching it up in a trembling paw. "You monster!" he screamed at it. "Look what carnage you've brought upon my shop!" The burger made no reply, and just as the Cheran was beginning to feel stupid for shouting at an inanimate object, he noticed a thin rivulet of ketchup running down his wrist.

With a mighty effort (and a scream that woke Pandoria from her midmorning slumber in Darkwood Hollow), he heaved the burger back in the direction it had come from. "Don't ever come back!" Anger subsided, Lance fell to his knees. I'm the ruined one.

He would've stayed upset for the rest of the day had it not been for the splat he heard a moment after launching the burger. Looking up with eyes heavy from exhaustion he hadn't known was in him, the Cheran spotted a familiar Gourix. His white eyes were wide as plates as he stared cross-eyed at the burger splattered on his nostrils.

"Kyro!" Lance cried, his voice breaking off into a laugh at the spectacle. The Gourix's mouth opened, then closed. It was him, the Cheran realized. That makes this situation all the more funny. But still he found himself walking over to Kyro, extending a hand and offering him a handkerchief from his vest pocket. And he wasn't surprised when the Gourix shook a few bits of bun onto his fur as a final hurrah.

The dress may be beyond my repair... but I'll just have to get Kyro back for that. Another day.