518 days after a wizard cursed the REALM…
Current Version:
Val the Simian is exhausted, but the tiny horse spurs him on with a pater of hooves against the top of his head. “There are more glyphs in the water, and more and more. We must be close to the source.”
“Mister Pooka, I can’t go on, sir.” Val drops to his knees beside the stream of glowing letters. “I need a rest. But don’t let me slow you down. Go on the rest of the way without me.”
“You’ve been a valiant and loyal steed, Val of the Simians,” says the Pooka. “It’ll be a shame to shoot you dead and toss your carcass into a ravine.”
Val blinks. “What?”
“Not really,” the tiny horse admits. “I just wanted to say that out loud to complete the experience of being a consumer of ride-share services in the Elven culture, rather than just a provider. I’ve gotta say, I felt a rush of power there for a few seconds.”
“Sir, these Elves sound like truly horrible people,” says Val.
The Pooka tosses its mane in a shrug. “They’re like any people born into a privileged position. They need their minds opened, or else they avert their eyes and don’t even realize the harm they are causing. They don’t even realize that ‘the way things are’ and ‘the way things have always been’ don’t have to be perpetuated.”
“And this is why you’ve sought out the magical spring?”
“Yes.”
“To be free of your oppressors?”
“Yes! The headwaters of the Logorrhean River are said to have great magic. They will restore my true form. They will bring me back to my full power. And also, they apparently come in refreshing grape, strawberry, or kiwi-lime flavors, depending on the season.”
“Good luck, Mister Pooka.”
“Thanks. I’m hoping for kiwi-lime.”
The tiny horse continues upstream, weaving through brush and boulders. The glowing stream branches two more times. Each time, the concentration of letters becomes brighter while the water slows to a trickle.
At last, the Pooka reaches a spot where a glowing orange geyser bubbles out of the ground. “This is it. It’s so beautiful!” he exclaims.
He takes a long draught.
Then he shudders.
Then he shakes.
Then he drops to the ground and screams.
“It’s tangerine-flavored? Uck, uck, uck!”
Web3 Draft:
- Listed on OpenSea
- Listed on Rarible
Revision Notes:
To be added.
