| Still thwarting Sloth's mind control... |
Circulation: 195,283,450 |
Issue: 837 | 17th day of Hiding, Y20 |
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"Regar and the Potion
" by butterflybandage
The light from the fire was just bright enough to illuminate Regar’s desk. The parchments were rolled up onto each other, the wet ink smearing at the corners. The fire also shone an orange light onto the other fixtures of Regar’s home: the tall bookshelf filled with every magic book under the sun, potions that had been passed down from masters to apprentices for thousands of years, specimens that seemed to move when just out of eyeshot, a rusty kettle atop an old wooden end table, a thick shaggy coat that hung on the wall beside an intricate walking stick, and, finally, a musty cot, taken from an abandoned cabin and covered with moss to add comfort. This little cot was where Regar rested, the uncomfortable bed the place he laid his head to collect his thoughts.
Regar was old. He had taught many wizards and wizardesses over the years, and his antiquated teaching methods were becoming less and less sought after. These days, everyone wanted to be a ninja or a pirate or—Fyora forbid—a beauty contestant. Regar didn’t quite understand when the world had changed, but it did—and it was sudden, inexplicable, unforgiving. Time used to morph and bend at Regar’s will, but now it couldn’t quite seem to give him a chance to catch up.
Other Stories
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 Regar and the Potion
The light from the fire was just bright enough to illuminate Regar’s desk. The parchments were rolled up onto each other, the wet ink smearing at the corners. The fire also shone an orange light onto the other fixtures of Regar’s home: the tall bookshelf filled with every magic book under the sun, potions that had been passed down from masters to apprentices for thousands of years, specimens that seemed to move when just out of eyeshot, a rusty kettle atop an old wooden end table, a thick shaggy coat that hung on the wall beside an intricate walking stick, and, finally, a musty cot, taken from an abandoned cabin and covered with moss to add comfort.
by butterflybandage |
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 ~The Den of Malediction~
Tivlia the Maraquan Blumaroo had always been a tenacious treasure hunter. While growing up in Maraqua, she quickly learned to search for valuable commodities. Many times, she had made astounding sums of Neopoints from the prizes she had found. She hoped that her upcoming hunt would be no exception.
by _brainchild_ |
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 The Magic of Meridell: A Sit Down with Kayla
Though Kauvara might be the most famous magic potion master in all of Neopia, tucked away in Meridell Castle resides a vibrant red Zafara known as Kayla. The young Zafara does not hail from Meridell, she has called it her home since traveling through a time portal with her friends. Kayla was born in Neopia Central, where she would spend her days hanging around Kauvara’s potion shop. She has always been fascinated by magic and potion making. When she wasn’t browsing the shelves of Kauvara’s Magic Shop, she was reading books on how to brew potions.
by hectic_haley |
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 The Crimson Curse
It had an intricate design, nothing like any other of its kind he had seen before; its base was carved into what looked like tendrils wrapping themselves around the jewel, like a squid ensnaring its prey. He flipped the talisman over, on the back was a carving of a strange winged creature that he could not recognize; its body covered in scales and it had wings comparable in appearance to that of a Shoryu or a Draik.
by shadowknight_72 |
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 The Big Move:Part Five
After sending everyone off, I knew I had only a limited amount of time before they all came back to the house. Actually, the more I thought of it, the more I realized that there was probably going to be a lot of distractions with everyone interacting with each other for a long period of time so I had a bit of time on my hands.
by hannahcreep |
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