Mistic Pets

Welcome to Issue 11
Created by The Mistic Pets Team

See You on the Other Side
Written By Strange Traveler

Dear Journal:

As a world explorer, I like to think that I’ve seen it all. I’ve explored every single inch of Mistica’s surface, left no stone unturned and no forest unexplored; I’ve even sailed all over her sparkling blue oceans. I’ve met more people than you have Facebook friends, and seen more places than you’ve blown up in your video games. People call me “eccentric,” or even “strange,” but I’m no more than a humble traveler: a nomad journeying from land to land in search of knowledge, my only companions an odd-smelling sandwich and, of course, you, my faithful journal. Considering my (supposedly) complete knowledge of all things Mistican, I didn’t expect to be very surprised when I finally succeeded in convincing the Yehxil to allow me access to one of their cities.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Since the Yehxil are still very wary of outsiders, I have been sworn not to tell where the entrance to their grandest city, A’ipotu, is located. I can only say that my guide, a very humble-looking Riverside Yehxil, led me through a winding maze of tunnels carved from earth and stone for what seemed like hours. Finally, we stopped, and he put out the small lantern he had been carrying to light our passage. A darkness more complete than anything I had ever experienced enveloped us. This put me on edge, so I nearly shrieked when I felt something grab my paw; luckily for me, the soft chuckle I heard told me that it was merely my guide.

“Close your eyes,” he commanded.

I was confused as to what difference that would make considering that I could not see anything at the moment, but I decided to follow orders –- in my many travels, I discovered that it is most beneficial to listen to the locals, even if they don’t make much sense to you as an outsider.

The guide, seeming to notice my perplexity, explained: “Even in such complete blackness as this, we see. While our eyes struggle to see through the darkness, the darkness is still something. She is something living, something breathing, something that can take us in her arms and show us the way –- but she cannot lead us if we are trying to see past her. That is why we must take trust from our sight and give it to the darkness.”

While at first I didn’t understand his words, I soon felt their meaning; a creature, something alive yet unreal, took me and gently pulled my body forward. I felt my feet almost gliding above the rocky floor, the gentle clopping of my guide’s hooves beside me echoing off of the walls.

The darkness’s pull weakened as I began to feel a warm light splash across my fur, and soon we came to a stop.

“Open them,” the guide ordered.

And I did.

And my jaw hit the floor.

Before me lay the most amazing sight that I had ever seen, and there is absolutely no single word in the English language that can fully capture its grandeur. Before me towered great stone buildings, stretching from the bottom of the cavern to the ceiling a good three-hundred feet above. Yehxil bustled along suspended walkways that ran along the walls, some heading for their burrows and others for the ramps that lead to the main streets below. For an underground city it was surprisingly well-lit, and, craning my neck upwards, I soon saw why; thousands upon thousands of glowworms lined the ceiling, and FyreFlis flitted about in glass lanterns mounted all over.

“It’s wonderful city,” the guide smiled, “but this is only a small taste. Would you like me to show you more?”

I could only nod, as my mouth was too busy gaping in awe to allow me to speak.

“Come with me, then.” He led me by my paw as we gently hopped down onto the walkway, but instead of following the stream of Yehxil trotting along it, we stepped to the very edge and paused for a moment. “I am going to need your absolute trust, Mr. Traveler. Okay?” the guide asked.

“Um, yes? Yes, of course,” I replied, nervously peering over the two-hundred-foot drop that we were mere inches away from. “But why are you a-“ My ear-shattering (and embarrassingly high-pitched) scream interrupted my sentence as the Yehxil fearlessly leaped over the edge, dragging me down with him. I closed my eyes and prepared for impact.

“Oompf!”

It was a lot softer and came a lot more quickly than I had predicted.

The wind that ran its fingers through my fur and the badly repressed laughter of my guide coaxed me into opening my eyes. I couldn’t help but let out a whoop of excitement; we were flying! I have no idea how an air current was formed this deeply underground, but by Pandoria the buildings were whizzing past and I could almost touch the glowworms on the ceiling with my outstretched fingers! Then suddenly, we began to dive down, and I didn’t even notice where we were headed – I simply threw my arms up in the air and shouted as I had never shouted before, savoring the adrenaline rush.

And as soon as my fantastic ride had begun, my Yehxil guide was standing on the ground beside me, holding out his hand. It was only as I stepped down that I realized what had even allowed us to fly – a manta ray, as big as a bus, somehow swimming through the sky instead of the Mistican seas. Briefly looking to the underground “sky,” I saw many more of its kind gliding effortlessly through the air, as well as many other creatures that I didn’t even have names for. I honestly was more kinds of awed and bewildered and amazed than I had felt in my entire life, but A’ipotu had still more secrets to reveal to me.

Wordlessly my guide led me along a cobbled stone path, winding through a strange, otherworldly garden. Plants, all of them translucent and most of them producing a faint glow, grew all around us, and I couldn’t help but stare. A small stream babbled lazily beside us, and looking up I could see aqueducts branching out from a large stone cylinder that dropped from the top of the cavern to the very center of the garden. Many carved archways were carved into it, and I could tell that whatever lay within was where we were headed.

My guide lifted the large leaf that covered the doorway we entered through and motioned for me to go inside. And what my eyes beheld is the single most beautiful thing that I have ever seen.

It was a small, dark room, with glowworms dotting the ceiling like stars and a good-sized colony of bioluminescent bacteria forming a sort of living moon. I could feel the soft grass beneath my paws, and hear smell the cool scent of the pond located in the center. The water was surrounded by tall grass that mixed with the purple of the grass to bathe the cave in a soft indigo. On the right side towered a great luminescent willow tree, her leaves replaced by small orbs that glowed a bright turquoise. A large rock hung over the edge of the pond, and, upon glancing over it, I saw curious eyeless carp swimming about beneath the surface of the water.

“This, my friend,” the Yehxil explained as he followed me in, “is called the Inner Sanctum. It is a place of meditation and reflection.” He sat next to me upon the rock and closed his eyes, sighing as he placed his hooves in the water. Without a word I too closed my eyes and let the peace of the Inner Sanctum wash over me. And as I meditated my mind revealed to me the truths of the Universe; truths that I cannot tell you, dear Journal, because they are something that you must learn on your own.

And after our meditation within the Inner Sanctum my guide showed me the stores and the houses and the people of the city, but those events have since faded in my memory. The garden and the small room in the center, however, have remained as beautiful and vibrant as when I first saw it; and, though I have returned many times to the great city of A’ipotu, I have yet to discover the words to properly describe it to you. I am sorry, Journal, that my description is horribly lacking, but I am but a crazy old traveler, not a dictionary.

I have yet to see anything like the Yehxil cities on the surface world. I have yet to see flying rays and glowing plants and towering stone buildings and a level of architectural mastery that even begins to compare to the great wonders carved by Yehxil claws. I don’t think we ever will, either, because there is a certain sense of magic and wonder in those underground caverns that simply does not exist in our fast-paced society. The Yehxil have managed to capture a different time, a different world, that those of us who refuse to let go of our fears and preconceived notions and allow the darkness to guide us.I’ve met more people than you have Facebook friends, and seen more places than you’ve blown up in your video games. People call me “eccentric,” or even “strange,” but I’m no more than a humble traveler: a nomad journeying from land to land in search of knowledge, my only companions an odd-smelling sandwich and, of course, you, my faithful journal. Considering my (supposedly) complete knowledge of all things Mistican, I didn’t expect to be very surprised when I finally succeeded in convincing the Yehxil to allow me access to one of their cities.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Since the Yehxil are still very wary of outsiders, I have been sworn not to tell where the entrance to their grandest city, A’ipotu, is located. I can only say that my guide, a very humble-looking Riverside Yehxil, led me through a winding maze of tunnels carved from earth and stone for what seemed like hours. Finally, we stopped, and he put out the small lantern he had been carrying to light our passage. A darkness more complete than anything I had ever experienced enveloped us. This put me on edge, so I nearly shrieked when I felt something grab my paw; luckily for me, the soft chuckle I heard told me that it was merely my guide.

“Close your eyes,” he commanded.

I was confused as to what difference that would make considering that I could not see anything at the moment, but I decided to follow orders –- in my many travels, I discovered that it is most beneficial to listen to the locals, even if they don’t make much sense to you as an outsider.

The guide, seeming to notice my perplexity, explained: “Even in such complete blackness as this, we see. While our eyes struggle to see through the darkness, the darkness is still something. She is something living, something breathing, something that can take us in her arms and show us the way –- but she cannot lead us if we are trying to see past her. That is why we must take trust from our sight and give it to the darkness.”

While at first I didn’t understand his words, I soon felt their meaning; a creature, something alive yet unreal, took me and gently pulled my body forward. I felt my feet almost gliding above the rocky floor, the gentle clopping of my guide’s hooves beside me echoing off of the walls.

The darkness’s pull weakened as I began to feel a warm light splash across my fur, and soon we came to a stop.

“Open them,” the guide ordered.

And I did.

And my jaw hit the floor.

Before me lay the most amazing sight that I had ever seen, and there is absolutely no single word in the English language that can fully capture its grandeur. Before me towered great stone buildings, stretching from the bottom of the cavern to the ceiling a good three-hundred feet above. Yehxil bustled along suspended walkways that ran along the walls, some heading for their burrows and others for the ramps that lead to the main streets below. For an underground city it was surprisingly well-lit, and, craning my neck upwards, I soon saw why; thousands upon thousands of glowworms lined the ceiling, and FyreFlis flitted about in glass lanterns mounted all over.

“It’s wonderful city,” the guide smiled, “but this is only a small taste. Would you like me to show you more?”

I could only nod, as my mouth was too busy gaping in awe to allow me to speak.

“Come with me, then.” He led me by my paw as we gently hopped down onto the walkway, but instead of following the stream of Yehxil trotting along it, we stepped to the very edge and paused for a moment. “I am going to need your absolute trust, Mr. Traveler. Okay?” the guide asked.

“Um, yes? Yes, of course,” I replied, nervously peering over the two-hundred-foot drop that we were mere inches away from. “But why are you a-“ My ear-shattering (and embarrassingly high-pitched) scream interrupted my sentence as the Yehxil fearlessly leaped over the edge, dragging me down with him. I closed my eyes and prepared for impact.

“Oompf!”

It was a lot softer and came a lot more quickly than I had predicted.

The wind that ran its fingers through my fur and the badly repressed laughter of my guide coaxed me into opening my eyes. I couldn’t help but let out a whoop of excitement; we were flying! I have no idea how an air current was formed this deeply underground, but by Pandoria the buildings were whizzing past and I could almost touch the glowworms on the ceiling with my outstretched fingers! Then suddenly, we began to dive down, and I didn’t even notice where we were headed – I simply threw my arms up in the air and shouted as I had never shouted before, savoring the adrenaline rush.

And as soon as my fantastic ride had begun, my Yehxil guide was standing on the ground beside me, holding out his hand. It was only as I stepped down that I realized what had even allowed us to fly – a manta ray, as big as a bus, somehow swimming through the sky instead of the Mistican seas. Briefly looking to the underground “sky,” I saw many more of its kind gliding effortlessly through the air, as well as many other creatures that I didn’t even have names for. I honestly was more kinds of awed and bewildered and amazed than I had felt in my entire life, but A’ipotu had still more secrets to reveal to me.

Wordlessly my guide led me along a cobbled stone path, winding through a strange, otherworldly garden. Plants, all of them translucent and most of them producing a faint glow, grew all around us, and I couldn’t help but stare. A small stream babbled lazily beside us, and looking up I could see aqueducts branching out from a large stone cylinder that dropped from the top of the cavern to the very center of the garden. Many carved archways were carved into it, and I could tell that whatever lay within was where we were headed.

My guide lifted the large leaf that covered the doorway we entered through and motioned for me to go inside. And what my eyes beheld is the single most beautiful thing that I have ever seen.

It was a small, dark room, with glowworms dotting the ceiling like stars and a good-sized colony of bioluminescent bacteria forming a sort of living moon. I could feel the soft grass beneath my paws, and hear smell the cool scent of the pond located in the center. The water was surrounded by tall grass that mixed with the purple of the grass to bathe the cave in a soft indigo. On the right side towered a great luminescent willow tree, her leaves replaced by small orbs that glowed a bright turquoise. A large rock hung over the edge of the pond, and, upon glancing over it, I saw curious eyeless carp swimming about beneath the surface of the water.

“This, my friend,” the Yehxil explained as he followed me in, “is called the Inner Sanctum. It is a place of meditation and reflection.” He sat next to me upon the rock and closed his eyes, sighing as he placed his hooves in the water. Without a word I too closed my eyes and let the peace of the Inner Sanctum wash over me. And as I meditated my mind revealed to me the truths of the Universe; truths that I cannot tell you, dear Journal, because they are something that you must learn on your own.

And after our meditation within the Inner Sanctum my guide showed me the stores and the houses and the people of the city, but those events have since faded in my memory. The garden and the small room in the center, however, have remained as beautiful and vibrant as when I first saw it; and, though I have returned many times to the great city of A’ipotu, I have yet to discover the words to properly describe it to you. I am sorry, Journal, that my description is horribly lacking, but I am but a crazy old traveler, not a dictionary.

I have yet to see anything like the Yehxil cities on the surface world. I have yet to see flying rays and glowing plants and towering stone buildings and a level of architectural mastery that even begins to compare to the great wonders carved by Yehxil claws. I don’t think we ever will, either, because there is a certain sense of magic and wonder in those underground caverns that simply does not exist in our fast-paced society. The Yehxil have managed to capture a different time, a different world, that those of us who refuse to let go of our fears and preconceived notions and allow the darkness to guide us.

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