Memoirs of a RAFian

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER FOUR:
Buried Deep Within

Atreyu rented the group several camels, but Cloak refused to ride one, preferring to use his own two feet. And he wouldn't allow Atreyu to leave his sight. The shifty man realized this. Cloak also noticed how the camel merchants seemed to be suspicious and derides Atreyu, but for what the RAFians didn't know. From there, they moved to the desert proper, despite these merchants heavily advising against it, especially at this time of day, when the sun is at its highest.

They walked for a while, in what seemed to be in circles. There seemed to be a large bird overhead, circling them. It didn't look like a vulture of any kind, it looked rather aquiline. Cloak taking notice of this bird seemed to make Atreyu feel even more nervous. This caused Cloak to give him a ****-eyed look. Suspicious, but unsure of what.

Then Atreyu's camel tripped over something jutting up from the ground. Leatherhead immediately jumped off his camel (which he didn't really like riding) to investigate this. GH scolded, "LH! Stay where I can see you! It'll be too easy to get lost out here."

Leatherhead immediately came upon the thing the cantankerous camel tripped over, and said, "It looks like a pint-sized pyramid."

Then he dug a little, and said, "Wow! It's bigger than it looks!"

"It's buried, then," Cloak said, taking his eyes off Atreyu for the first time since meeting him. "Stand back everyone. Even you, Atreyu."

They did, though the other RAFians had to hasten Atreyu's retreat. They knew what Cloak was about to do. Cloak closed his eyes, and held out his arms. He took a deep breath, and then he aerokinetically and geokinetically manipulated the sand and the air around it to clear the area around this pyramid. It was considerably larger than it appeared. It was at least fifty or so stories tall. Cloak took the sand around the pyramid and clenched his fists. This compacted the sand until the point that it might as well have been sandstone.

"Come on down, now," Cloak said, tonelessly. "I've secured the place."

They slid down the compacted sand, the camels forgotten. The camels, when they had the inclination, returned home, when they wanted to be fed. Cloak slammed his hand into the rough-hewed stone. Atreyu flinched, thinking the cloaked man was angry. But Cloak had his eyes closed, and his hand remained on the stone for a few minutes.

"Entrance, there," Cloak said, pointing. The entire group shifted over to the point the Realm Walker indicated. Cloak stood before it, and his eyes glinted. Then the massive stone slab shuttered upwards. The group entered the pyramid with Atreyu who seemed to glance to the sky in a deliberately unobtrusive manner. Cloak glance back, and Atreyu hastened to follow the RAFians in. None of the RAFians, including Cloak, noticed that the giant eagle landing on the very point of the pyramid. The eagle appeared to have a graying handlebar mustache with a glistening medallion hanging from his neck. If eagles could look evil, this one did.

"The torches are gone," Atreyu pointed out. "How are we --"

Golden-scarlet light filled the dark space, illuminating things.

"What's that? What's making that light?'

"Me," Cloak said, his eyes now locked back on Atreyu. "You did your job, Atreyu. You 'lead' us to the pyramid. You have no further obligation to us. You may leave us and be on your merry way."

"No! Uh, no!" Atreyu said. "Uh, I know about every booby trap in the pyramid and the path to the treasure."

"You're lying," Cloak said, bluntly. They no longer stood on sand. It was easy to discern truth, though difficult in the fact that Atreyu was shaking like a leaf. Cloak was sure of his judgement though.

"No, no! I speak the truth!" Atreyu said, desperately. "I . . . uh . . . uh . . . can still be of use! Please, allow me to assist you!"

"Go home, Atreyu," Cloak said.

"Thanks for your services," Abby said. Cloak couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not. "We can take care of it from here."

"Wait! You still . . . still need me!" Atreyu said, sounding even more desperately.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER FIVE:
The Musical Wall

Cloak allowed the orb of golden scarlet light to float a little way in front of them. They had left Atreyu at the entrance, although Cloak could tell Atreyu had not gone home as Cloak recommended. He had evidently thought that he was sneaky, and was secretly following him. His footsteps were lighter, but still noticeable to Cloak's Earthsight.

"He's following us," Cloak said, at once, in a low voice.

"Let him," Saffa said. "We're here for the adventure, not the wealth."

"Aww," Leatherhead said.

"Wealth does not necessitate happiness, young one," Cloak said, rather roughly. "The aimless pursuit of mere monetary gains is hardly ever worth the endeavor, and eventually proves addictive, as seen with many governments through out countless civilizations from eons past."

"Huh?" Leatherhead said, utterly confused by Cloak's rhetoric.

"Money doesn't make you happy," Abby translated. "It may make you feel good for a little while, but that feeling eventually goes away, Leatherhead."

"Oh," Leatherhead said.

"We may never get what we want in life, LH," GH said, apparently feeling it was his turn to dispense some wisdom, as they watched a stone flail smack the opposite wall ahead of them. Cloak had deliberately triggered it when they were well out of its range. "But, LH, we have what we need. Love, acceptance. Friends, family. Food, water, shelter. Not everyone can claim to have that in this world."

Leatherhead said nothing as he appeared to be chewing on these words in his head.

"Although, a little adventure never hurt anyone," Underseen said, as they watched a booby trap being triggered in front of them that allowed a flurry of arrows be shot and riddling the side of the wall opposite it.

"Tell that to Odysseus," Cloak said, dryly.

"Who's Odysseus?" Leatherhead asked promptly.

"Long story," was Cloak's only answer. Then they came upon a wall full of hieroglyphs, and Cloak could tell what they wanted lay behind it. Yet he could not force the doorway (and it was a large doorway) open without risking a cave in. The pyramid's exterior would stand, but they had do this delicately. And he conveyed this to the other.

"Then how do we open it?" Saffa said, practically.

"We find the way that they intended to open it, otherwise our little adventure ends here," Cloak said, in his usual blunt manner. GH looked and examined the hieroglyphics, and, while not being versed in reading such things, he recognized something that the others did not.

GH grinned a broad, impish grin. "Guys. Isn't it obvious?"

He deftly pointed to several pictograms, and said, "That's obviously music!"

"GH, you can't be sure about that," Abby reasoned. "It could possibly mean anything."

"Trust me!" GH said, unshouldering his guitar (he never left it behind on any sort of mission, as it was the basic medium for his powers). "It's music. Lemme give something a try!"

He strummed a bit before, playing an old-timey melody, like a minstrel, before singing -- using the hieroglyphs as something to go off of.

"Who is the maid with the buttercup hair?
Who sleeps on moonbeams and dances on air,
With tears made of honey and a heart full of bunnies?
Whose unshakable virtues are known near and far?
It's the kingdom's own sweetheart, their dear princess star!
And under the shimmer and rubies and pearls
Lies hidden a fierce and adventurous girl.
The forces of evil that lurk in the night
Will cower in fear when this shooting star . . .
. . . ignites!"

This door did seem to respond to the music, glowing a pleasant yellowish color. Almost the color of honey, as GH changed to a propulsive rock beat.

"Wielding magic like a born spell-caster.
And wreaking havoc like a natural disaster.
She rocks her magical blasts and a dragon stampede!
She's gonna earn her crown, so hail to the quee-e-e-een!
'Cause she's a rebel princess, she's the best.
She's a ball of lightning in a hot pink dress.
She's a thunderstorm roaring through the night,
She's their shooting star, and she's lighting up their sky!
Oooh-oooh!
Oooh-oooh-oooh!"

The door was eking open slowly as GH switched to a slow, heavy beat.

"Shooting star shining in the night so bright,
She started to attract a pair of avaricious eyes.
The villain rose up from behind the jester's cross.
She drove him away but didn't know what she had lost.
The genes and her storage place of spells.
How could she know the vizier would take 'em for himself?
She confessed to her parents, all full of dread.
The King and Queen exchanged a look, and this is what they said.
This is what they said, this is what they said:
'We will keep your silence for you
From the citizens of the kingdom and the High Commission, too.
To keep the peace, we will play the game.
Royal secret from royal shame.
Royal secret from royal shame'."

GH was really starting to get into it, shifting into an upbeat rock beat, but Underseen said, "GH, you can stop now. The door's open."

Far from being happy about it, GH was slightly miffed. He was just starting to get into it. He just followed with a disappointed, "Aw. . . ."


SOURCE SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ts5y7bJFPkY

[Cloak]

Posting tomorrow's chapter a little early.

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER SIX:
This Hardly Seems Safe

Under the rather bombastic song that GH had played for them, Atreyu had not only caught up with them and entered the room beyond, but he had already traversed the rope bridge (a rope bridge with no ropes for you to put your hands onto, to balance yourself. It was just a straight rope bridge from the edge of the precipice to the round pedestal in the middle of the room. The floor upon which it stands was steeped in shadow, but still visible. Cloak wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing, as there was probably a reason why this floor wasn't deeper.

Cloak looked over to the pedestal where there seemed to be an upended turtle shell full of gold and treasure. Atreyu was scrambling into the turtle shell, almost desperately to get into the shell, presumably to get to the treasure in a plutomanic spritz to get to and claim the treasure for himself. Cloak didn't care. Let him have it, Cloak felt. He had no use for the sparkly stones and shiny metals that humans consider precious. Because, after all, this wasn't for the treasure, but the adventure. Cloak would have thought that they got enough adventure from their missions as RAFians, making this whole treasure hunt trip worthless, but apparently some of his fellow RAFians did not feel the same.

"How cute," Cloak said, rather abrasively, "he thinks that he's being sneaky."

"He's rocking that shell a little too much," Abby said.

"Yeah, if he's not careful he could tip over," Saffa concurred.

"And fall onto . . . that ground doesn't look soft at all," Underseen said.

"Major owie," Leatherhead agreed.

Cloak said nothing, seeing quite easily where this was going.

GH sighed, "We have to save him from his own greed. I'd like to say that that was new -- but, at this point, its not. It's not new at all. Let's go, then."

And so they did. They quickly crossed the rope bridge, which Leatherhead did not like at all. GH had to assure him that Mr. Cloak wouldn't allow him to fall. And, had Cloak been in a more mischievous mood, he would cast doubt on that assertion, but the Realm Walker was too moody to do that. It wasn't long before they all reached the pedestal, and Atreyu seemed to have located what he wanted -- a ring of some sort with a scarlet ruby inset in it. He palmed it, and jumped when he saw the RAFians.

Then you could say that he kind of overreacted. He leaped out of the turtle shell and sprinted over the robe bridge. Then he burned the rope bridge behind him.

"Well," Cloak said, as if this wasn't a problem at all, "that was a bit excessive."

"Um," Underseen interjected. "I think the pedestal is sinking."

"Yeah, there's a good reason for that," Saffa said, "because it is."

"That slimy . . . we were coming here to save his sorry --!"

"We have bigger concerns," Cloak said, noticing that caged animals of some sort were being unleashed. When Cloak saw them, he rolled his eyes. "Of course. Gate BURST it."

The creatures were gigantic, and their arachnid exoskeletons were the color of lobsters. Their pincers were serrated and hollow, their eight legs were like segmented spears. There tails were arched over their heads and were swollen red with a lustrous black stinger. Its head was the most radically changed -- it had a horizontal mouth full of jagged teeth like broken chitin with stalk eyes not unlike those of an Andalite with cartoony, human-like eyes. They were mutated scorpions, and Cloak was less than thrilled.

"Monsters!" Leatherhead shrieked. He was six, after all. This might be too much for him, even after what happened with that ferryman werecat.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER SEVEN:
New Concerns

"Yep," was Cloak's sole reply. He prepared himself for the battle. He never did like scorpions -- despite all Scorpio did for Master Avatar, his ancestor. He never could pinpoint why. Maybe it was something about the pincers, the segmented, venomous tail, or maybe it was the fact that there was nor real discernible head, that it's eyes basically just sat atop its body with its mouth where a neck would be? Eh.

What was worse was that these creatures were clearly abandoned down here and may have bred these new numbers, despite the obvious lack of food coming in. They were as starved as they were mutated. Some had clearly resorted to cannibalism between the rest. Which would explain why the majority of them gave the largest one a noticeable and considerable berth.

"Okay, when I said 'adventure' --" Saffa began.

"You didn't have this in mind?" Cloak asked, rather unnecessarily caustic.

"How was I supposed to know that there'd be mutated scorpions waiting to rip us limb from limb?" Saffa shot back.

"What?" Leatherhead said, tearfully. He was petrified, and very clearly didn't want to be here anymore. Yet, he was the one who insisted on coming. Dino was more than willing to babysit, but Leatherhead demanded to come with. GH wondered idly as he tried to comfort his adopted son that if DSS ever found out that he took Leatherhead on these little endeavors that he'd probably have LH taken away from him for child endangerment. GH pushed those thoughts away -- it will never come to that. The government had no grounds to separate them. Leatherhead asked with a quavering voice,  "Are we going to die?"

"It won't come to that," Cloak said, with absolute finality, "we have faced worse, Leatherhead. This is only a minor inconvenience. There are only ten, twelve of them."

It was then that the scorpions noticed that there was new meat within reach. Meat that they didn't need to crunch through a hard shell to get to the succulent flesh within. They could eat the flesh while it was still warm . . . they could fill their desperately eternally empty stomachs with substantive food . . . there had been so precious little over these centuries. Somehow, in the intervening millennia, their muscles and strength had not atrophied. It had only sharpened their pincers, sharpened their teeth.

"They noticed us," Underseen observed.

"But they haven't attacked yet," Cloak said, narrowing his eyes at them. Almost daring them to challenge him. It was perfectly true that they have faced worse. These things were fearsome, yes, but they were no Garrotik. They were no Soul Drinker. They were no world-eater. They were no Mongul. They were nothing.

"Yes, it seems that they are fighting each other over who gets to eat us," Saffa said, dryly. And so they were. Hollow, serrated pincers flashed, teeth (which was just jagged chiton that may have only formed due to battles over time) bit, and tails stung. What was ten before quickly dwindled down to five.

"One has to wonder how they managed to survive down here this long," Underseen said. "This pyramid had to have been sealed for thousands of years. And biological creatures just don't spontaneously manifest at this size."

"Not to mention that they have to have lungs, or an active respiratory system," Cloak said, as the platform pedestal that they were on began to shutter with age. "Otherwise they wouldn't be able to attain such mammoth sizes. The passive system most arthropods require a lot of oxygen, far more than you currently have in your atmosphere."

"How do you know this?" GH wondered, idly.

"It's Cloak," Underseen's answer was matter-of-fact. "He knows everything."

"That's not true, and you know it." Cloak responded.

What was five scorpions dwindled down to three. Now, instead of fighting each other, they decided to eat the remains of their fellows, seemingly forgetting about the RAFians. Their response was rather Taxxon-like, which probably made sense as they looked rather superficially similar. But their fellows wouldn't satiate them for very long. It was a wonder how they managed to populate this place, and perhaps repopulate it. Beneath there feet, Cloak could Earthsight a hollow tube, a tunnel of sort.

Of course, the irrigation systems were still in place. An impressive piece of human architectural ingenuity, considering they didn't have the sort of resources that his kind did at that age of the development of their civilization.

Meanwhile, the scorpions seemed to finish feasting on the flesh of their brothers and sisters, discarding the empty chitin shells (which looked as if it could make fine armor plating for a tank). But it seemed that they were still feeling a little peckish. Instead of turning on one another, they made a beeline for the RAFians as Leatherhead wailed in fear and misery.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER EIGHT:
Drowning It

"Cloak, care to lift us out of here?" GH asked. He knew that Underseen, Abby, and Saffa could just shapeshift (well, morph in the case of the latter two) into something flying and get out of here.

"I don't that's advisable," Cloak said. "We don't need to run into Atreyu again and complicate matters again when he inevitably overreacts again."

"Then how do we get out of here without becoming scorpion snacks?" Underseen asked.

GH was about to make a joke to compare "scorpion snacks" to "Scooby Snax", but he couldn't think of a way to word it in a way he thought would be sufficiently funny without being too wordy or falling flat. So, he said nothing, instead.

"There's a tunnel beneath where we stand," Cloak said. "Presumably for irrigation purposes."

"Why would there be an irrigation tunnel beneath a pyramid? What use could a dead person have for irrigation?" Saffa asked, pragmatically.

"I do not know," Cloak said, "but speculation as to why are moot. It's a way out."

"This seems unnecessary," Abby said. It wasn't necessarily an objection, more of an observation.

"Perhaps," Cloak admitted, "but you guys said you wanted adventure. Remember?"

"Should have seen that coming back to bite me in the butt," Saffa said. She sighed. "Okay, then, let's get this over with."

"Are we sure that the monsters can't swim?" Leatherhead asked.

"There holding areas are dry -- well, there's no water in there to speak of anyway," Cloak said, glossing over the mutated scorpion viscera that was in there. He didn't think that Leatherhead needed to know those kinds of specifics. "And they're more reminiscent of land scorpions, which need to breathe (albeit passively) air, not water."

The three, who had turned on one another, had apparently decided a victor. The only one who survived. The big one. The one that was about two, three times Cloak's height. And Cloak happened to be the tallest one there, barring Saffa, Abby, or Underseen shape-changing into something larger. And, apparently, its hunger hadn't been sated yet. It never would be sated, it would seem, as they . ..  it was ravenous.

It loomed over them. Cloak wasn't intimidated. Neither was Underseen, Saffa, or Abby. GH was more concerned with putting himself between the scorpion and Leatherhead. He wasn't about to allow the scorpion to harm his adoptive son.

"Get into the tortoise shell," Cloak said, referencing the upended turtle shell full of gold and whatnot.

Then Cloak punched the ground as if he was executing the "Rekkoha" technique. This splintered the ground with a large fissure, which seemed to stun the behemoth scorpion and perplex it. It wasn't very smart of course, being little more than a monstrous, nonsentient creature with only instinct and hunger to guide its actions.

Then Cloak punched the ground again, in this "Rekkoha"-like technique. Another fissure appeared, perpendicular to the first one. Yet the flooring still held. Cloak was obviously pulling his punches -- after all, this was the person that kept the earth spinning after that alien cat thing tried to steal the rotational energy of it. But Cloak was in his Apex Tier of power then and he was forced to exert that amount of power. Cloak never really liked using more force than was necessary. Perhaps he misjudged what had to be done with the siren way back when, but he held to that belief of not using excessive force.

"Get ready," came his only warning.

"What's going to --" Leatherhead began to ask.

Cloak, with a loud roar, executed this "Rekkoha"-like technique, which his eyes glowed like golden-scarlet suns. Then he shattered the thick flooring into the wide irrigation tunnel. The mutated scorpion proved just what a crappy swimmer it was, and quickly drowned as the RAFians rode the upended turtle shell as if it was a raft upon rapids. The adventure was working to its natural conclusion.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER NINE:
An Adventure Ends, Another Begins

As the adventure ended, and they wound up in an oasis of some sort. They would give the treasure to the people of this country (not necessarily the government, because they were pretty sure that they would keep the wealth to themselves), although Leatherhead wanted to keep the thing that looked like some sort of bronze or gold gravy boat.

"Why?" GH asked. The thing looked rather worthless.

"I like it," Leatherhead said, honestly and earnestly. He was holding it rather delicately. "It's like a cool teapot or something."

Six-year-old logic, GH thought as he shrugged. He would allowed it, with the permission of everyone else, and they gave it. Cloak couldn't care less, if he was frankly honest. He had no interest in the shiny baubles that humans seem to value so highly, and he couldn't understand why it gave them such prestige to have such things in their possession. Then again, the Nexus was, by default, shiny everywhere. And anywhere that it wasn't, it was dark. The Realm Walker's own coronas were bright and colorful, so, such things didn't hold much economic value, he supposed.

"We done here?" Cloak said, sounding rather apathetic. "Had enough 'adventure'?"

"No need to be a wet blanket, Cloaky," Abby said.

***

Atreyu had hurried to present the ring to his boss, Marco Locke, who was waiting for him on the other side of the musical wall. Marco wore a dark yellow wizard's robe with a dark yellow sash, pale orange and blood red designs on the robe front, in a vertical stripe, and it had a medieval design to it. He also wore a dark yellow cape, with a high collar, and with a hood. He had the medallion danging to his chest that the massive eagle overhead had. The guy was massive and had a face like a bulldog with a thick, black mustache, graying beard that bunched into two separate bunches, and bushy, gray eyebrows. His teeth seemed to be pointed, almost animistic and bestial, and his eyes were small and sunken into his face.

"M-Master," Atreyu said, with a quavery voice. Then he raised the ring up on both of his hands, making it look horribly minuscule. Seeing this, Marco angrily slapped the useless trinket away.

"THAT is not the LAMP," Locke said, angrily, "that I sent you to get. How did you mistake 'lamp' for 'ring'?"

Atreyu started blubbering and stammering a protest or an apology -- it was hard to tell which.

Locke roared, "Silence!"

Then music started up, as Locke began to sing to Atreyu:

"Now I know you can be malicious,
Spiteful, and a trifle vicious.
It's not a secret
That you cheated
And lied.
And you've done some double-dealing
Scheming, swindling and stealing.
You're an amateur, but heaven knows you tried."

"I assure y-you, M-Master," Atreyu said, nearly sobbing with fear, "I d-did. I t-tried my h-hardest. . . ."

Locke patted him on the head, as if he was a puppy that had been naughty, "Good boy. Very soon your efforts will be . . . rewarded"

Then he launched back into the song, which was actually opening up the door behind them.

"Oh, you'll develop so much faster,
Now you're working for a master!
Who will help you cultivate your darker side!
You'll discover wicked ways that you've never known before!
And you'll find, when you're really rotten to the core . . .
It feels so good to be bad.
So delicious to be a despicable cad.
It's just so thrilling and so fulfilling
To give someone the worse time they've ever had!
It feels so good to be bad.
Let's leave this pyramid, it's damp.
And I promise you, by sunset, I'll --
I'll have the lamp!"

"Why can't I get them for you?" he asked, his voice losing a bit of its quaver.

"'Coz you two had your chance and blew it.
I entrusted you to do it
But you BUNGLED it,
And threw your chance away!
It's a problem you created,
If the lamp can't be located,
I'm not naming names,
BUT SOMEONE HAS TO PAY!"

"I c-can t-try again!" he pleaded.

"You'll never find it." Locke snorted derisively, before going back to his song:

"Though you gave me cause to doubt you,
There's a loathsomeness about you,
That attracts me to you
As a protege!
And when you've learned every creepy, crummy thing I know --
You'll taste the joy that comes when you're the lowest of the low!
It feels so good to be bad!
So delightful to be a deplorable cad!
It's so unfeeling to have the feeling
That what you're doing
Gets trouble brewing
And drives everybody mad!
You've got my guarantee
It feels so good . . . to be . . . bad!"

Then he let out a good, long belly laugh.

"So exciting!
Ole!
So inviting!
So good to be bad!
Ha ha!"

With that, the two left, for parts unknown.


SOURCE SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PJwd86x81SI

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER TEN:
Leatherhead's Lamp

It was perhaps a day or two later, and Leatherhead, who wasn't wearing his humansuit as they were safely within the forum, was looking at his new trinket in the company of Cloak, GH, Abby, and Saffa. He was holding it up to his eye, and he thought that it was a bit dustier than he liked. So, he rubbed the dust off . . . which caused the lamp to shake violating as a voice began to roar out of it, almost like ticklish laughter. The lamp itself began to glow.

Cloak's eyes widened with instant recognition what this meant. He wasn't too pleased about it -- not for the reasons that one may expect. So, it was abated dread that Cloak watched as a bunch of blue sparkles and smoke shot from the opening of the oil lamp. Cloak knew full well that it would be a genie, but the genie took on an appearance that Cloak had not anticipated. He looked like a humanization of a Jirachi with cobalt blue skin with golden clothing and pointed shoes. He wore golden manacles around his wrists, and he . . . looked as if he was a child between the age of ten and twelve.

"Whoaaaaaaa-ooooooh! Oi! Does it feel great to be outta of there!" he exclaimed. "I've had a cramp in my arm for nearly thirteen hundred years!"

With the exception of Cloak, the rest of the RAFians were gobsmacked. They hadn't expected this. Cloak frowned at this. He knew what would come of this. He didn't hate genies as a race, he just despised what they stood for. Making wishes to make your dreams come true? That's far too easy. No effort went into achieving that. Thereby, it won't mean nearly as much. You're suppose to go through an experience to shape yourself and your destiny. Just having a magical genie grant you that wish? It makes it meaningless. Effortless. It took nothing to get to that point.

Cloak had to work to master each of the six elements of Earth, Metal, Fire, Air, Water, and Wood. It wasn't easy, but through his tutelage with his grandfather, Sage, he managed. He grew in raw power (although he didn't really like that part). He worked to get over his emotional abuses of his childhood. He learned how to control and manage his emotions. None of that was just handed to him, none of that was just granted by a wish. He worked on all that. He put in the necessary effort. And he came out better for it, more or less.

"Oh, how great does it feel to be out of there!" the genie exalted. Then he noticed Leatherhead and the RAFians. Particularly Leatherhead, who still held the lamp, "Oh, what, pray tell, is the name of my new master?"

"L-Leatherhead," was his hesitant response. Then he replied after a few seconds hesitation, "I'm your master?"

"That's right!" Leatherhead's eye widened suddenly as a graduation cap and diploma magically appeared on his head and in his outstretched hand with a poof, then collapsing into smoke afterward. "He can be taught!"

GH, Saffa, and Abby stifled laughter, as Cloak looked on at the proceedings from the shadows of the nearby wall, his expression sour.

"What do you wish of me?" the genie said, going into a variety of impressions that Robin Williams himself would have been proud of. "The ever-impressive, long-contained, often-imitated, but never duplicated-duplicated-duplicated-duplicated . . . Genie of the Lamp! Right here, direct from the lamp. Right here for your very much wish fulfillment."

Cloak's expression soured further.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Leatherhead said, his eyes sparkling. "Wish fulfillment?"

"Three wishes," the Genie said, "no more, no less. That's it. Three. Uno, dos, tres. No substitutions, exchanges, or refunds."

"Am I dreaming, Daddy?" Leatherhead addressed GH.

"Master!" the Genie said, with rather more liveliness than Cloak really cared for, "I don't think you understand what you got here. So, why don't you ruminate, whilst I illuminate the plausibilities?"

Then he snapped his fingers and lively music played. Leatherhead was eager for this song, while Cloak considered leaving.

"Well, Larry Dunn had them forty thieves,
A talking seal had a thousand tales
But, master, you in luck, 'coz up your sleeves
You got a brand of magic never fails!
You got some power in your corner now.
Some heavy ammunition in your camp.
You got some punch, pizzazz, yahoo and how!
See all you gotta do is rub that lamp.
And I'll say --
'Mister Leatherhead, sir
What will your pleasure be?
Let me take your order.
Jot it down.'
You ain't never had a friend like me.
Life is your restaurant
And I'm your maître d’!
C'mon whisper what it is you want.
You ain't never had a friend like me.
Yes sir, we pride ourselves on service.
You're the boss!
The king! The shah!
Say what you wish
It's yours! True dish!
How about a little more baklava?
Have some of column 'A'.
Try ALL of column 'B'!
I'm in the mood to help you, dude!
You ain't never had a friend like me!"

Then he did an impressive amount of scatting, before continuing the song. At this point, Cloak did indeed leave.

"Can your friends do this?
Can your friends do that?
Can your friends pull this out their little hat?
Can your friends go -- poof?
Well, looky here!
Can your friends go, 'abracadabra', and let 'er rip!
And then make the sucker disappear?
So, dontcha sit there slack jawed, buggy-eyed,
I'm here to answer all your prayers!
You got me bona fide, certified.
You got a genie for your chargé d'affaires.
I got a powerful urge to help you out!
So whatcha wish? I really wanna know!
You got a list that's three miles long, no doubt.
Well, all you gotta do is rub like so -- and oh!
Mister Leatherhead, sir, have a wish or two or three!
I'm on the job, you big nabob!
You ain't never had a friend, never had a friend,
You ain't never had a friend, never had a friend,
You ain't never . . . had a friend . . . like me!
You ain't never had a friend like me, hah!"

Of course, now the whole of RAF knew that Leatherhead had a genie. Soon the greed -- the materialistic greed -- and the laziness will come. . . .


SOURCE SONG: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=99Op1TaXmCw

[guitarhero01234]

Aw, why couldn’t I have found the lamp? I’d have wished for an entire swimming pool of coffee

[Gaz]

I'm still quietly following this.

[Cloak]

Aw, why couldn’t I have found the lamp? I’d have wished for an entire swimming pool of coffee

Whoever holds the lamp gets the wishes, GH. I thought this was common knowledge -- the Genie was addressing the song to Leatherhead because Leatherhead was currently holding the lamp.

I'm still quietly following this.

Good. And I mean that sincerely, Gazzy. It was starting to feel like no one was.

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER ELEVEN:
Rampant Wishing

What came next was hardly surprising, much to the ire of the Realm Walker. The arrival of a wish-granter such as a genie always seemed to cause the orange light of avarice to glow brighter and brighter. This was like the wishing star all over again, only this time legitimate instead of a childish game by a childish blue dwarf star. Cloak himself seemed to be the only one not making wishes (well, Richard and Estelore as well, but they were away from the forum at the time, and Falc0 was too busy off hunting).

GH had wished himself up an Olympic swimming pool of coffee, for some reason, and presumably made two other wishes that Cloak never heard about.

Parker had wished for a "copy chip" sort of update to his armor, which gave him a mimetic ability to copy certain capabilities of his enemies into his armor. Essentially making him into the SPARTAN equivalent of Mega Man or Mega Man X. Whether he had made his other two wishes Cloak did not know.

Some wishes were rather benign, like Phoenix just wishing to pass his next exam, and some were petty, which Cloak didn't even bother finding out.

All this free-wheeling magic, and all of it, seemingly, turning out just as the wisher wanted. But a lot of the wishes made were of the sort that would, inevitably, come back and bite them in the butt. But so blinded with avarice, they failed to see this, just as they did when they rushed to get to that Veiled wishing star. None question the permanence of these wishes either, just as they never question the unforeseen consequences, the ramifications, the logistics of them. No one seemed to realized that, after the novelty of the wish wore off, that the wish would feel hollow. They had reach their ultimate destination, but had gone on no journey, experienced nothing on the way, to get there. Yet, they were being granted left, right, and center. They seemed blissfully unaware of these things, only Cloak seemed to ponder such concepts, away from the hubbub and clamor for the lamp.

And, as it would seem, the only other person who hadn't made a wish was Leatherhead, outside his first one for a simple sandwich. He didn't understand the magnitude of the wishes, and he was always a simple, happy-go-lucky kid. He didn't even wish to be braver, which is something that he really did want, because didn't think of it. After he made that wish, the lamp had somehow gotten away from him. The other RAFians becoming a bit greedy to get their three wishes. All blissfully unaware that one of them would have sacrifice their wish to undo all the chaos that had stemmed from this.

And the genie? He wasn't overwhelmed at all, it seemed. He seemed to be ecstatic to have an audience to play for again. Even he was lost in the chaos, seemingly oblivious to the crowd eagerly waiting to get their three wishes. Cloak couldn't help but think that this was unbecoming for a RAFian. The others were making wishes based in wrath, materialistic greed, lust, pride, sloth, jealously, gluttony, and other rather hedonistic things.

Things like this never end well, not with a total reversal to restore the status quo . . .

***

"Stay here," Locke ordered Atreyu. "I will go and retrieved the lamp myself."

"B-but, M-master," Ima Atreyu began.

"SILENCE," Locke said in ringing tones. "I already gave you plenty of opportunity to get it. And what do you get me instead? A ring. I told you to get me the lamp. And you present me with a ring. How on earth could you make such a mistake, if not for sheer incompetence? No, Atreyu. I go myself. You've already fouled up too much."

Atreyu wanted to protest, but found that his voice and nerve had decided to cruelly abandon him at this moment. So, he said nothing and bowed his head in compliance.

"Stay loyal to me, Atreyu," Locke warned as he turned to leave. "You do not want to know what happens to those who are disloyal to me."

Atreyu shuttered and shivered at the thought. He had a notion of what happened, and he assumed it to be a lethal one. Whether painful or not, he did not want to know.

"Stay here," Locke repeated, before using his amulet -- the medallion hanging from his neck -- to shapeshift into a large eagle. Then, with a throaty squawk, he flew away. . . .

[guitarhero01234]

Awwwwww yeah, my dreams are finally coming true. Coffee swimming pool, bright green eyes . . .

Oh, my third wish? Well, isn’t that obvious? I WANT TOOL TO ACTUALLY MAKE A NEW GODDAMN ALBUM, THAT’S WHAT I WANT! IT’S BEEN TWELVE YEARS, WHAT THE HELL HAVE THEY BEEN DOING ALL THIS TIME!?

[Cloak]

. . . 

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER TWELVE:
Marco Locke's Journey

It wasn't very hard for Locke to find out where the lamp went. The forum was full of outlandish things that one could not normally or naturally achieve. But Locke couldn't just force his way in. This forum was an unknown location to him, so when he was just out of view of the forum, he transformed from his eagle state into that of a large, ugly, gray rat . . . which carried aspects of his human face even in this form, allowing him to continue to be expressive and emote, although it could just be a limitation of the talisman.

He quickly ran over to the walls of the forum. He attempted to sneak in through the gaps in the wrought iron gate. Only he didn't account for Code Avalon, though on its lowest setting. The force field would not allow him in, and he didn't anticipate this. And how could he? He didn't know about Code Avalon. It wasn't something that RAFians go on "news" shows and explain it in excruciating detail. As such, it wasn't exactly widely known unless you carried a Mark.

Now Code Avalon wasn't perfect, of course. It had it's flaws, just like the Mark itself. It has been down more times than any RAFian would care to admit, and it had a tendency to fail at the worse possible times. But, of course, Locke didn't know this. He hadn't done any research on these RAFians, thinking them inconsequential and bumbling buffoons.

He transformed into a ****roach (which still had his human face, in chitin) and flew up to the apex of Code Avalon. He heard a carrying voice, and the conversation that followed.

"For my final wish," GH said, raising his right index finger in the air, "I WISH TOOL TO ACTUALLY MAKE A NEW ALBUM!"

"Done," the Genie said, with a snap of his fingers and clash of thunder.

GH waited a minute, and looked around. He hesitated a minute, before demanding. "Where is it?"

"It'll come out July Thirteenth," the Genie said.

"But it's September!" GH protested, as one of the former wishes of an undisclosed RAFian -- a small purple man with an elongated head with an inset gem, who just said "Globgor" -- ran around, repeating that singular word..

"You didn't say 'now'," the Genie said, simply.

"I wish for it n--" GH said, still holding the lamp, before the Genie interrupted him.

"Your wish quota has been reached, former Master," the Genie said. "Sorry, but I don't make the rules. I'm bound by the rule of three."

GH wasn't to happy about this, and was about to childishly throw the lamp at the genie, before he thought better of it. Leatherhead was watching, and GH decided that it was probably not in his best interest to antagonize a being with phenomenal, cosmic power. GH withdrew to stand behind Leatherhead, and tried hard not to sulk.

Meanwhile, Locke witnessed all of this, and he looked at the RAFians with absolute scorn and derision. Such power were wasted on these children. They had no vision. He had used the genie of the lamp to wish for immortality, to enable him to obtain this talisman, to sink Atlantis (that would teach them for refusing him a reservation!) -- these RAFians were wasting this power for petty wishes. Wishing for stupid, worthless, materialistic things. The Genie wasted its considerable talents by catering to these plebeians, by indulging this licentious crowd of vulgar creatures.

He would take his lamp back, and he would not allow it be stolen from him again. He would be able to have his former power back again. True, he did already have a corporate empire, but that was lacking compared to the sheer power of a genie at his command, having infinite wishes again. But first he must reclaim that which was his.

He didn't know how he would get through this force field and maintain the element of surprise. Without the powers of the genie, he doubt that he could take on these peasants all by himself. Then he would never reclaim what was his by right! He . . .

WHAT WAS THAT FOOL DOING HERE?! AND HOW'D HE GET INSIDE THIS BUBBLE?!

[guitarhero01234]

Well, to be fair, I’d be fine waiting a few months if it was confirmed

[Cloak]

Not the reaction I was anticipating.

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN:
Ima Atreyu Gonna Betray You!

Atreyu may have feared Locke greatly, but, as expected, with that fear came resentment. Forced loyalty always results in eventual disloyalty, unless the person in question had been thoroughly brainwashed into fanatical devotion. Atreyu was not brainwashed, but just cowed into compliance, and, as such, held no true loyalty to the man. So confident and complacent Locke was in Ima Atreyu's servitude, he never thought that he would be disloyal to him. He never entertained the notion that Atreyu would dare to disobey his wishes.

Atreyu wouldn't have, but he had achieved a brief spritz of reckless daring, and he traveled to the forum. Atreyu was attracted to the same spectacle that Locke was attracted to. It rather ruined RAF's mystique to have all this magical chaos in the forum. The Genie was tirelessly granting wishes left, right, and center. Atreyu realized this, and, rather than being motivated by servitude to his proclaimed master, he was now motivated entirely by avarice. He wanted his three wishes. He wanted to finally get what he wanted.

He rushed to the gates of the forum, and, due to a glitch in Code Avalon, managed to penetrate it when Locke himself couldn't. Normally, Yarin, Xeno, Aquilai, Goom, or another RAFian would have been able to catch such a glitch of this massive proportions, but they were too busy with the Genie. They were unable to resist the allure of the prospects of three wishes without provisos or limitations. Atreyu quickly stole into the forum, and waited. His time would come. He would finally get what he wanted. He would be the one on the top. He would be giving the orders. Yes, that would be what he would wish for. He would become a "somebody", finally.

He had no parents, no brothers, no sisters. All he remembered were the streets. The streets and being hungry. Being turned away from other families. Unwanted and penniless. When he managed to procure the first bit of currency he had, he knew only one thing. He had to have more. He had to have more until he had more than anyone else. Until he had all the money for himself.

Unfortunately, he didn't have sufficient ruthlessness for such endeavor, and he was encumbered by his innate fear and cowardice. Though most of his boot-licking tended to be an act to ingratiate himself with those in power. But he held no loyalty to such people. He may have feared them, may have allowed them to cow him into submission, but force doesn't inspire loyalty, and brutes, like Marco Locke, never understand such things. Locke wasn't much into the middling things like compassion and generosity, being more inclined to cruelty and contempt.

Anyway, Atreyu had managed to sneak into the forum. He managed to steal into the crowd of RAFians that had gathered around the lamp. Leatherhead still hadn't made a wish, having wanted to please everyone around him. He wasn't a real selfish six-year-old, and just wanted to make people happy. Granted, he didn't think it was fair, especially because he was the one who wanted to keep the lamp in the first place, but he didn't say anything. He was afraid of being rebuked for protesting.

It was easy to essentially pickpocket the lamp in the confusion of the crowd. The only RAFians who left were those that have had all three wishes granted, some happy with their wishes, others disappointed because of some technicality. Atreyu easily took the lamp from the throng, and there was a brief bit of confusion as to where the lamp went, and even more so when the Genie vanished in a puff of smoke. Atreyu quickly streaked out of the crowd, unnoticed. He quickly made his way to the gate, using the confusion as cover.

He didn't realize that he had come under the scrutiny of two individuals. The watchful, hateful eyes of his master, Marco Locke, and the Earthsight of Cloak. Cloak did not know the identity of the man whose footsteps he "saw" but he knew from the body language with each footstep that he was shifty and trying to be inconspicuous, which was suspicious in its own right. Meanwhile, Marco Locke just assumed that Atreyu was just securing the lamp for him, and didn't conceive the possibility of Atreyu betraying him or even being disloyal. But also thought cowing people into submission was a way of generating true loyalty, which was a foolish philosophy.

Atreyu made it outside of the forum, taking the advantage of the same glitch that allowed him entry in the first place. Marco Locke prepared to move to reclaim the lamp, when Atreyu summoned the Genie and made his first wish. He wished to get out of there to a safe place, and this was before Marco Locke could find him. Marco was livid with this, as he was sure that he knew that he was coming for it. Marco saw the lamp as truly his property that was stolen from him and hidden in that pyramid by its thief. The Genie was his slave and no one else's.

But Atreyu was taken to an abandoned warehouse, one of which that used to be one of Malice's little dens before she moved house from it. It was safe for the moment, it's true. Atreyu failed to take into account that Marco would be out for him, and that he would be out for his blood. Marco demanded absolute, unfaltering loyalty -- and that never works -- and would punish severely anyone who did not show him such loyalty, that would dare to disrespect him in such a manner.

Of course, the next wish that Atreyu made would just make matters even worse.

[Cloak]

New chapter.
 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN:
This Is A VERY BAD MOVE

He wanted wealth. He wanted riches. He wanted to be on top. He wanted to be in the oligarch's club, the club of plutocrats. He wanted to be able to have a bin of money that he could dive into and swim through like Scrooge McDuck (except that this is physically impossible, unless you have a superpower that allows you to do so). He wanted never to have a fiscal worry from this point on.

"Don't give me to that warlock," Genie had begged Atreyu. "You hold the lamp now. You're my master now."

The Genie was appealing to Atreyu's greed, appealing to his selfishness. The Genie was desperate not to go back to Marco Locke, who was once known as Mercolock. "Marco Locke" was just a modernization of his former name. He was immortal, after all, and he needed to change certain things to the time. He couldn't force things to change with him, as he lost the lame for millennia.

"Anything you want, Master," Genie had intoned. "Money. Riches. They can all be yours. You just have to wish for them."

Now Genie was appealing to Atreyu's plutomania. He was clearly making headway. He was turning Atreyu's head.

"No limitations, no provisos," Genie had insisted. "Anything you want . . . it can be yours!"

Atreyu was starting to really like this idea. He wouldn't need to be subservient to Marco Locke. He would be free from any and all subservience. He would be his own master . . . he would make his own rules . . . he would be able to do anything he wants . . . he would be free . . . free . . .

"All you have to do is make a wish," Genie had intoned again.

And he was sure that he could use his final wish to wish for more wishes as well . . . he could have whatever he wanted . . . he could have whoever he wanted . . . he could be anyone that he wanted to be . . .

"Just don't give me over to Mercolock," the Genie said, being candid for the first time.

"I shall," Atreyu said. "I shall make my second wish."

Genie said nothing, unsure where Atreyu was going to go with this. Anxious as to what Atreyu would wish for.

"I wish to have all of Marco Locke's wealth, fortune, assets, and businesses," Atreyu said. He had allowed his greed, his plutomania, his desire to poetically topple Marco Locke. To take all he had.

"Marco Locke? That sounds a lot like --" the Genie said, but his curse forced him to grant the wish. Even he realized that the company was probably Mercolock's, built up after the lamp was absconded with. Even the Genie, which looked like a child despite being older than even Cloak, realized that this was no a good idea. That this was not a wise decision at all.

Everything that Marco Locke had accumulated in the millennia he was alive now belonged to Atreyu. Somehow, Atreyu didn't think that he would realize what happened or where he was. This wish was made, in part, to humiliate Locke, to punish him for Atreyu's mistreatment. But this was incredibly shortsighted. Atreyu never considered that Locke might know precisely how deactivate all the security measures, not to mention that he can turn into any animal with that talisman. A talisman that cannot be touched negatively in anyway by Genie's magicks. He never considered any of this, and Genie saw this straight away when he realized Marco Locke was Mercolock.

"This is bad," he said, nervously. He looked absolutely terrified. This was like basically a billboard to Mercolock. He wasn't going to ignore this.

Atreyu wasn't paying attention to him, as his attire had changed to one of excess opulence and was extremely baggy on him. It consisted of a large, white turban (with what appears to resemble a white neck shade coming down on opposite sides) complete with a sapphire gem and orangish, pale yellow feather, cream undergarments, and a matching top, with a white cape with a yellow interior flowing down, just below his calves. The outfit is finished with golden brown shoes, with swirled tips. He was giddy about this and his newfound wealth . . . that he didn't earn.