And so another Pokémon journey concludes... or does it?
(Of course, if you've played the Johto games you know that it doesn't.)
(Of course, if you've played the Johto games you know that it doesn't.)
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7
Chapter 8 - Chapter 9
The Catacombs were a sad husk of their former selves. Terra remembered that, in her adolescence, the main cavern was full of people perusing shops, submitting their art and writing to the galleries, and chatting about the latest issue of the Neopian Times. Now, only the Coin Shop remained open close to the entrance—the other establishments were boarded up and abandoned. A sole, small newsstand near the Coin Shop sold the Neopian Times and a few other periodicals, but the Chia proprietor was napping. And only a handful of people mulled about the cavern besides Terra, her family, and Zoltan. Past what had once been the main hub of activity, the cavern branched off into many tunnels, all shrouded in darkness.
“This is kinda depressing,” Blynn said. “It’s always sad when a place dies like this.”
“Right?” Terra said. “As much as I like Roo Island, the Catacombs were a special part of Neopia Central. I have a lot of great memories of this place.” She sighed. “It’s tough when you have a lot of nostalgia for something, and when you revisit it, too much has changed.”
“All part of growing up, I guess,” Hyren said. “At
least you’ll always have those great memories.”
Terra and her family ate breakfast in their suite the next morning. They’d stocked the kitchen with groceries, for days when they didn’t feel like mingling in the cafeteria, and today was one of those days. Terra liked the extra bit of downtime to lounge in her pajamas, and after the emotional whirlwind of yesterday, she wanted to give herself some extra TLC.
She’d just taken a bite of her rainbow toast when someone knocked softly at the door. “I’ll get it,” Isengrim said as he moved to the door and opened it. “Ah—good morning, Zoltan.” Terra tensed a bit and concentrated hard on her toast, hoping Zoltan would not notice her, or at least would not have anything critical to say about her.
“Good morning,” the Kyrii replied, clearly more
out of politeness than because he truly found anything good about the morning.
The harsh edge seemed to have gone out of his tone—Terra wondered if he’d
overheard her conversation with Isengrim in the hall last night. She couldn’t
decide whether that would be beneficial or embarrassing. Probably both, but if
it was beneficial she was okay with it.