Change Needs Growth:Part Six

     "My name is Leprechaun." Patrick repeated.

      "You are remembering the truth!" Nash was excited.

      "Why are you doing this to me?!" Patrick's pain flooded in. He remembered the agony of his upbringing and was not happy to be recalling the hardships.

      "You phrase that negatively," Nash was offended. "I am only trying to help you." Nash seemed to be patronizing Patrick.

      "Help? You made me doubtful of my friends. You destroyed the shamrock. You chased me from our home! We were friends, but you didn't like being kicked out, so instead of being appreciative of the only one you had left, you took out all your anger on me! How is that helping?!" Patrick was getting emotional.

      "You don't see how I am helping you. I think you have forgotten. If I didn't place that doubt in you about going the wrong way, you wouldn't have been able to stop the organization in time. If I hadn't destroyed the Shamrock, you would never have opened up to Gumdrop. If I never chased you away from our home, you would never have met Shane- the one who believed in you."

      "That's all coincidence!" Patrick yelled.

      "Even meeting Gumdrop, the only one who helped you become a better Petpet?"

      "Yeah- a good coincidence."

      "The fact that he was the only one who was able to stop Splyke?"

      "Even better coincidence."

      "The fact that he saw the possibilities and never gave up; never gave up on the mission and on you?"

      "That's who he is." Patrick shrugged.

      "Also a coincidence I guess." Nash was annoyed.

      "All you care about is messing up my life!" Patrick became more upset. "Stop trying to make it sound like I don't know what I am talking about!"

      "Take it easy." Nash tried to calm Patrick down. "I just want to talk through your past. That's something you don't want to do, but it will help."

      "You just keep making things worse." Patrick seemed unable to produce more rage, so he settled on a stern face. Flashing his hands, he produced a smoke mote.

      "Don't do this!" Nash warned through clenched teeth. "Let's just talk."

     "NO!!" Patrick flung the smoke mote at the red Psimouse as Patrick rolled away. He jumped to his feet and formed two Hail motes and hurled them into the red Psimouse. The opponent let out a cry of pain as the smoke mote hit him and he flew back into the produced smoke, disappearing. Patrick panted as forming motes drained him of energy, but he had to stay alert.

     "I am tired of this. We must discuss your past." From the smoke appeared an enraged Psimouse holding two electrical motes. Before Patrick could react, one electrical mote had already hit him as he stood there, stunned in pain. As soon as he regained feeling, he flashed an ice mote between his fingers and chucked it at the direction of the first attack. The red Psimouse shot the second electrical mote at Patrick and formed a metallic mote to block the ice mote with a smashing blow, starting his advance forward. Patrick was hit and stood stunned again, but quickly started forming a lava mote. Nash was getting closer and so Patrick let loose a powerful lava mote followed by a flow of them in a continuous stream. Nash rolled under it and stood up in the middle of the stream, a metallic mote splitting the force of the flow of lava motes. Patrick yelled as Nash slowly walked closer. Nash came down and knocked Patrick's hands with the metallic mote and Nash grabbed his hands.

     "Let go of me!" Patrick cried.

     "We are going to talk about your past!" the red Psimouse sternly commanded.

     "I don't want to! If I talk about my past, it will hurt too much!" The truth was out. Patrick wasn't ready to talk about his past. He felt pathetic as though he was about to sob, but nothing came out.

     "It's time you accepted the truth on what happened and moved on." The red Psimouse soothed.

     "NO!" Patrick formed an air mote and used the pressure of the mote to launch himself out of Nash's grasp.

     "That's it!" Nash yelled. Patrick was already tired, but he let loose a barrage of hail motes as they were easier to form than ice motes. Nash swiftly dodged them as he formed a lava mote and absorbed the ones he could not dodge. Patrick leaped into the air and formed a big ice mote as he flung that at Nash. The lava mote disintegrated in the extreme cold and fragments of ice sprayed all over Nash, sending him backwards. Patrick was ready to be done. Nash stood up and formed an ultra-nova mote. Patrick stood their baffled. Nash launched it into the air as it swirled around, its colors illuminating the dark scenery for the first time since it went dark from the absence of magic. The magic of the mote dispersed into the sky of the two opponents as they stood their ground. Patrick was impressed, but quickly regained his composure and tried hitting Nash with a rock mote as it flew through the air towards Nash. The red Psimouse side-stepped the attack and launched a smoke mote at Patrick's feet.

     Patrick was suddenly unable to see as the smoke engulfed him. A shadow outlined the edge of the smoke and Patrick launched an array of motes, but none seemed to slow it down. A strange puff of wind caressed Patrick's shoulder and he spun around, but he was too late. Nash tossed an air mote at Patrick and his hat tumbled to the ground. The smoke cleared and Patrick was standing there powerless.

     "I can't believe you still rely on that hat for power." Patrick felt guilty. Gumdrop had also called him out on that. Patrick ducked to the ground and tried grasping for the hat, but another air mote sent it flying away. "A Petpet who does not learn from their past is like a tree without any roots." Patrick stood there unable to do anything. Nash was next to him and the red Psimouse pressed his fingers against Patrick's forehead. "So let's talk about your past." A blinding flash erupted from the two as they traveled into Patrick's memories.

     @@@

     Patrick was small for a Psimouse when he was born. Although for a Psimouse, Patrick wasn't small, he was average. The happy couple of the newborn looked at the new addition with a concentrated affection. The doctor looked at the baby and made an audible gasp. The parents quickly turned to confront a doctor who was also a Psimouse. Patrick looked onto the scene with concern. He and Nash were onlookers of the birth as they seemed to be unnoticed. The room was white and light blue to symbolize purity and cleanliness. The hospital room was in great condition as it was barely used. Patrick recognized it immediately. There was only one hospital in his old village and the interior was exactly as he remembered. The vase by the bedside full of flowers he had only seen in their village, their elegance molded the room into a scene from a painting more than an actual room for patients.

     "What is going on?" Patrick said as he turned to Nash. The Red Psimouse simply smiled.

     "You have the power to summon motes just as you have the power to revisit important memories. You choose not to because you do not want to remember the truth. The one you've been hiding from yourself for so long, that you have started believing these lies you put in its place. I want to help remind you of the truth. Only then will you be free and able to save Unishire."

     After a long pause, Patrick finally muttered, "I know." He didn't know though. He had forgotten. Yet it was coming back to him. Like a leaky faucet, his memories were slowly dripping into place. He turned away from Nash and looked at the commotion of his parents shouting at the doctor, obviously in a panic. "I meant why did you bring me here?"

     "This is where you lost your third eye." Nash said, haughtily. Patrick only gaped as he listened back into the chaos of the small hospital room. The doctors were running in and out of the room assuring the parents that everything was going well and that this was normal. The baby had been taken into another room and the parents had been asked to stay. Patrick looked to his mother. She was crying and couldn't control herself. Patrick's father paced the floor paying no head to her. The green Psimouse strode over and knelt beside his mom, wishing he could actually console her.

     "It's alright, mummy." Patrick sniffled as he pretended to be embracing her, but his arms vanished as they passed through her. "I turned out just fine." Patrick's mom looked up as if she heard his voice. She looked around as she stifled some tears. "Trust me mummy." The Psimouse smiled as his mother asked for a box of tissues. His father grabbed them and passed them to Patrick's mom in bed, the box passing through his invisible body as if he were a ghost. His mom continued crying, now using some tissues.

     "What happened?" Patrick said as he stood up.

     "There were complications."

     "What kind? I was never told of this." Patrick realized he had never really used his powers to revisit old memories and so he was new to the whole ordeal. He also had nearly forgotten everything about his past life, but Nash seemed to remember very clearly.

     "In the process, the doctors goofed and got a little careless. They tried figuring out what went wrong, but they were in a panic and didn't handle the situation well. As a result, you barely lived at the expense of your third eye." Nash said as he looked around the room. "I remember it differently."

     "Remember what differently?" Patrick faced his enemy.

     "The room." Nash said casually.

     "You weren't here, yet." Patrick argued. Nash merely grinned.

     "You ready to go to the next memory?"

     "No… this is too much."

     "You are barely starting to remember." Nash held out his hand menacingly. Patrick had no choice, but to follow Nash's lead. He took his hand and with a flash of light, Nash and Patrick were whisked away.

     @@@

      Patrick and Nash warped into light and objects melted together. Time seemed to stand still and then rush past them as they had a falling sensation, but they were falling into the center of themselves. Suddenly, they stood inside Patrick's home. The small cottage was crammed full of furniture and paintings, but it was a cozy type of crammed. Patrick looked up to see his dad sitting at a bench, hunched over his next project: a pair of shoes. His dad was a cobbler and one of the finest in the small little village of Psimouse. A small version of Patrick came bounding down the stairs.

      "I waited five minutes, dad! Can I see them now?" Little Patrick's voice was pitched higher than a soprano flute, but the innocence was overflowing. Clearly exasperated, Patrick's dad let out a sigh before replying.

      "Of course! Come on down, son!" Patrick let out a victorious "hooray" before he hobbled over and sat up on a tall stool watching his dad work. Eagerly staring, Patrick's dad continued carefully carving his creation.

      "Can I help?" Patrick blurted. Slightly jumping, Patrick's dad stopped carving.

      "Tell you what. Let me finish making these for Mr. Jones down the street and then we can start making your very first pair." Patrick's eyes widened as he realized the big opportunity lying before him.

      "Thanks dad so much! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm going to go tell mom! You're the best dad ever!" Little Patrick ran out of the room calling for mommy, excited. Patrick's dad smiled as he finished the shoes. By the time little Patrick had returned with his own tools, Patrick's dad was finished making the shoes. He was clearly exhausted and needed sleep, but he placed a block of wood on the table and picked up little Patrick, placing the small Psimouse on his lap.

      "Now imagine this block on your feet. Doesn't look too comfortable, right?"

      "Of course not, daddy!" Little Patrick giggled. "That's silly!" The dad laughed a little himself.

      "So our job is to make it the most comfortable possible. So let's start with this tool. Imagine how you want the shoes to look and feel and let that guide you." Patrick's dad continued for a long time until it was past little Patrick's bed time. Patrick's mom came in.

      "Honey, what are you doing?" The dad got distracted and forgot to make sure that their son got to bed at a descent time.

      "Sorry, I was just helping-"

      "Stop fiddling with that shoe!" She raised her tone. Little Patrick was still putting the finishing details on his shoes. The dad eyed her and motioned for her to calm down.

      "Here." He put the shoes on his son. "Now go up to bed, we'll finish them tomorrow." Patrick walked in a daze as he tiredly climbed the stairs. As soon as the door shut, Patrick's mom started yelling. Patrick's parents fought a lot. She didn't want her son to become a cobbler like her father because "look where it got us." She also felt like a failure for raising a freak Psimouse with only two eyes. He was upset that she wasn't able to keep calm in front of their son and that she was putting down his line of work and their son's dreams.

      Patrick turned to Nash. This was the best and worst day of my childhood. I remember this. I never made shoes before and my dad made them for me. I think they are still at my house in Unishire. Yet this was the worst day. I never had heard my parents fight before." Patrick walked up the steps to his old bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, revealing a small little Patrick, peaking out, listening, and crying silently to himself. Mom had just called him a freak. "It's going to be ok. You hear me?" No response. Patrick tried giving himself a hug, but his arms phased right through his younger self. Patrick came back down to Nash.

      "This was rough, but it got better soon."

      "First I would endure this night for a month. Then my dad would quit being a cobbler to satisfy my mom. My mom would get into a rage and take me and run to the other side of the village and stay with my aunt. My mom then went to work all the time and so my aunt raised me. I don't remember seeing my mom after that first day she left for work. Apparently when she wasn't working all day, she was sleeping all night. My dad never came looking for us. I don't know why. My aunt wasn't very kind to me either." Patrick sulked in his memories.

      "And then?" Nash asked hoping, but he already seemed to know the answer.

      "Things got better. It was hard for me in my home, so I met a friend and we played together often. We were best of friends."

      "I'm glad you remember our friendship as fondly as I do." Nash smirked. "Let's go to that memory." Patrick went to Nash and grabbed his hand. With another flash, the scene changed before them.

     @@@

     The sensation did not become any more bearable as they traveled to a new memory. It seemed as though it might be getting worse as Patrick felt a little ill. Patrick and Nash arrived and were out in a grassy field not far from the village. Rocks were in the distance that eased into a rock wall that surrounded the village. The rock wall climbed up to form a dome with a few cracks to allow light through. As far as little Patrick knew, the village was inside a mountain, whatever that was. As the scene unfolded, a small Psimouse ran around the field, chasing a small red Psimouse. The two laughed as they ran around.

     "Want to explore Mystery Island today, Nash?" Little Patrick called. The red Psimouse slowed to a stop and turned around.

     "That's a great idea!" The two seemed to put on invisible hats and they both started crawling through the tall grass. "Cranky! There's a krawk here!"

     "Don't poke it with a stick!" Little Patrick warned. "It might get angry!" The two giggled as they seemed to venture all over the imaginary Mystery Island finding treasure, discovering secret caves, and fighting off an evil wizard protecting the prized jewel that has magical powers that they debated on what it should have before defeating the wizard and who should get it.

     Patrick couldn't help but laugh at the two as they ran around having fun. Patrick had teared up seeing his dad at work, hearing his mom yell, and now seeing his younger self having fun, salty tears surfaced. Patrick liked the good ol' days when him and Nash were friends. He wanted to tell Nash this, but restrained. Nash seemed to know exactly what Patrick was thinking. He looked to him and said "you will never be happy unless you are thankful for what you already have. It's easy to want to go back to the 'good old days,' but let me tell you something. You're living in the good young days right now. You just have to make the most of your circumstances and be thankful for what you do have, not what you want." Patrick smiled and nodded in agreement. The two aged Psimouse watched their younger selves play and they both enjoyed it.

     Soon the time for fun was over. The two walked to a giant tree that they had called the Tree of Friendship because it represented how their friendship had grown. This was the tree that they met and said good-bye to each other every day. It was Little Patrick's happy and sad spot. When he escaped to play with Nash, he was happy, but at the end of their time together, it was a reminder that he had to go back to his imprisonment.

     "I remember." Patrick nodded. "This was our last time playing together." The two onlookers followed young Patrick to his home. As soon as he entered, there was his aunt.

     "What were you doing?!" She yelled impatiently. "I have been looking for you everywhere!"

     "I was just playing with my friend…" young Patrick mumbled, obviously scared.

     Patrick turned to Nash. "I would sneak out to play with you." Patrick explained. "She never cared nor did she notice, but I got careless and stayed out too long. She only notices when I forget to do the dishes." They listened into the memory again.

     "Where does this Nash live? I am going to go tell him that he is no longer welcome to hang out with my nephew!" His aunt was furious.

     "I don't know where he lives…" Patrick said quietly.

     "Of course you don't! What does he look like?" His aunt demanded. Patrick described him and his aunt gasped, slamming the door. The two onlookers walked up to the door and phased through it. Young Patrick was now sitting in a corner as the aunt was in a panic.

     "That was my time-out corner. My aunt went to the elders and the elders of the village asked me questions about you, Nash.

     "Let's go visit that memory." Nash said as they were taken away and found themselves back in the same house. This house was less cluttered than Patrick's first house, but it was far from cozy. Everything was clean to the point where it felt that you did not belong in such a clean home. In the new memory, young Patrick was seated on the coach, and three elderly Psimouse were watching as a forth was kneeling down in front of Patrick.

     "Let me get this straight. You have been playing with a red Psimouse for the past year?" The elderly Psimouse croaked. Young Patrick nodded. The elderly Psimouse looked at the others with concern. "I am dearly sorry, Leprechaun, but this means that Nash is going to have to leave the village." Young Patrick, young Leprechaun, looked up at the Psimouse elder and started crying. "Don't worry. You'll be safe. The ceremony will be tomorrow. We will help you get ready for it.

     The two followed Patrick to that night. Young Patrick climbed out of his window and crept along the edge of the path away from his home. He made his way past the stores and past the town hall. Patrick and Nash watched as the little Psimouse made his way to the only spot in the entire stone wall that had a whole in its surface. The small Psimouse looked back one last time and then ran out of the exit.

     "I didn't want to leave without you." Patrick said to Nash. "You were my only friend and they were kicking you out. I decided that I would rather be out in the world with you instead of in there with my aunt. You know already, but it was hard for me to realize this until I was outside, but once you leave, you can never go back. I tried. I realized the mistake I had made." Nash just silently listened as the two followed young Patrick outside. Once outside, Patrick nodded grimly as he recalled his surroundings. A small tunnel that led up to a giant tree similar to the one that he and Nash had met at inside their village. They had to crawl until they reached the tree to see young Patrick and young Nash together talking.

     "You were waiting for me?" young Patrick asked, enthused.

     Young Nash stood there, staring at the starry sky. "It's your fault you know." Both Patricks were taken by surprise. Young Nash turned. "We would still be in the village if you hadn't been so clueless!"

     "Nash? Are you alright?" Young Patrick was tearing up.

     "NO!" Nash screamed. "Your mom was right- you are a failure! You are worthless! You are crazy and you are always going to be alone!"

     Patrick, young and old, were both crying.

     "No you're not!" Patrick called to his younger self. "Gumdrop said so! We are worth more than we could ever know!" Patrick felt hot tears streak down his cheeks. He spun around to meet Nash. "Why did you say all those nasty things to me?! Do you know how long I struggled with them?" Nash didn't say a word as he watched his younger self fire a mote at his former friend. Patrick ran away, but Nash followed throwing a few more motes. "I ran all around Neopia, hiding from you! I changed my name so people wouldn't question my strange name that was common for our village. I had to change it to Patrick because he was the only person who seemed to actually care for me: my dad. If I hadn't found Shane, everything would be over for me! Why were you so cruel in coming after me?"

     Nash simply shook his head. "You think I am the cruel one?" Patrick was dumbfounded.

     "What do you mean?"

     "What do I mean?" Nash glanced over at Patrick. "The reason I got kicked out was your fault. They said a red Psimouse was a bad sign and so they wanted to send me away. You remember that don't you?" Nash shook his head. "I don't think you do. I think you are still fooling yourself into believing a lie. I wasn't the one who chased you around the world. I wasn't the one who forced you outside the village. I wasn't the one who placed doubts in your head. I wasn't the one who accidentally dropped the shamrock. I wasn't the one who played with you. That was you, Patrick. It always was just you."

     Patrick's memories flashed before him yet again. He was by the tree talking to Nash, but Nash wasn't there. He was out in the fields playing with Nash, but Nash wasn't there. He was running from Nash outside the village, but Nash wasn't there. Every memory he had of Nash vanished as he realized, Nash was never there.

     "What is your full name, Patrick?" Nash asked.

     Patrick blinked twice. "My name is Leprechaun Nash Hinckley." Patrick turned to Nash. "And you're not Nash, you are me."

     Nash smiled. "Those complications during birth, those hard times during your childhood, you being cast out from friend groups all played a part into you developing an imaginary friend, but you believed I was real because you needed someone. They weren't going to kick me out of the village, they were going to kick you out because of the bad sign of the red Psimouse. Instead of being kicked out, you decided to run away to keep some of your pride, fooling yourself to believe that they were only kicking me out of the village. It wasn't me who was mad at you, it was you who was mad at yourself. It was you who doubted. It was you who dropped the shamrock and blamed it on me. I am not your greatest foe. I am your thoughts. All this time you thought of me as your greatest enemy, when time and time again, those around you pointed out that you are your own greatest enemy." One last blast of light encompassed the Psimouse as they were transported back near the end of the rainbow, the Psimouse never having moved.

      Patrick fell to the ground. "I can't believe it. You aren't real. I am messed up in the head… I am crazy. I…" Patrick spoke between sobs. "I am a mistake."

      Nash knelt beside him. "I know you think of me as your biggest adversary, but I can assure you that you are far from a mistake. Everything happens for a reason. You were the only one able to save Unishire. That's why you are here."

      "I am here by accident." Patrick complained.

      "No." Nash smiled. "How can you call every coincidence an accident? There is something beyond us that guided you here. Every pain, every hurt led you here, in this moment right now. That means that if none of those things you perceive as mistakes happened, you wouldn't be here to save Unishire. Mordecai would have tried, but you saw how he was weak compared to Splyke. He would have failed. Gumdrop was right. You have changed for the better. And here is the chance you have sought ever since you were thrown out: redemption. And something greater than us has given it to you."

      Patrick sniffled as he wiped away the tears. Patrick smiled. You're right. Sometimes, it's hard to see through the pain of the moment, but I am here because of what I have endured. If I had to go through it all again, I would so that I could end up here, in the place I need to be. Now I see that through those trials, I am exactly who I need to be." Patrick turned to Nash. "Like a clay pot in the fire, I am being refined for bigger and better things." Nash nodded in agreement.

     Patrick stood up, his hat still resting on the floor.

      "Do you want your hat?" Nash inquired.

      "Nah. It isn't magical and it doesn't make me who I am today. All my difficulties and desires; my struggles and aspirations, they are what have made me who I am today. Thanks Nash. You and Gumdrop were right- are right."

      "That's great that you realize that." Nash stepped over the hat as he followed Patrick to the pond. The black color of the pond seemed to be leaking into the air. Patrick paused and took a deep breath. He produced the gumdrop button that the Jinjah friend had given to him. Side by side, the two watched as Patrick flung the gumdrop into the water. The candy broke the stillness of the water with an unsettling splash as it dove underneath the surface. A flicker of light and the black colors that caused the bleak surroundings dimmed a little. Patrick paled. The magic from the gumdrop coursed into the rainbow. There was a flash of color, but it quickly faded. The Psimouse along with his imaginary friend looked onto the pool in dismal belief.

      "Did it not work?" Patrick became nervous. "Maybe I can't save Unishire after all…" Nash glared at the green Psimouse.

      "No more downer thoughts. You have enough doubt already. Don't make this harder on yourself. Be positive and your perspective will be positive as well. If you think you can or you can't, you are right."

      Patrick nodded. "I'm just scared." He admitted.

      "Why?"

      "Well I know what I have to do. I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but I always knew it would. I am about to give back all my magic in order to save the magic of Neopia and Unishire. I remember Gumdrop telling me that someone would have to give up their magical powers in order for the magic to be restored. Magic was taken away from here, so I have to give it back. By giving back, it sounds like I would be giving up all my magic. Gumdrop was willing to do that, but since he was made of magic, he knew that he would be sacrificing himself. Since the gumdrop button didn't work… I am going to have to sacrifice myself instead." Patrick looked grim, but Nash nodded along.

      "You gotta do what you gotta do." Nash assured him. They walked closer to the pond and stopped. Patrick waited. He had something on his mind.

      "Nash?"

      "Still here." Nash rolled his eyes.

      "This might be silly…"

      "What?"

      "I don't want to sound conceited…" Patrick grew a little red in the face.

      "Just tell me!" Nash half laughed.

      "Do you think…?" Patrick looked Nash in the eyes. "Do you think that people will hear about what I am about to do for them?"

      "What do you mean?"

      "I just want to know… will people know that it was me? Will they write stories of me? I thought about it on my adventure. I don't know if it would be a good one."

      Nash laughed hard. "I'm sure that whoever 'they' are, will write something about a brave Psimouse named Leprechaun who was a trickster, who loved loved his green hat, and found his treasure at the end of the rainbow: redemption." Nash mocked.

      "You're right… that's ridiculous." Patrick confessed. He looked up at the pond devoid of color. "Here goes." Patrick ran. As he got closer to the pond, the blackness started fading. Nash watched from a distance. Patrick disappeared into the faded rainbow, footsteps echoing into nothingness. The green Psimouse smiled to himself. He had finally accepted the pains of the past and was able to move on. He was now at peace. One last splash rang out as color returned.

      Nash vanished in the wind, smiling. All that remained of Patrick was a tiny green hat, sitting on the grass, beaten, torn, dirty, but whole and in the right place. The color of the grass returned to its bright vivid color. By comparison, the hat paled, but by experience, nothing stood prouder.

     @@@

      Mordecai walked into the magical area of the end of the rainbow, carrying Gumdrop in his arms. He peered around the empty lush greenery to see the Candychan sitting near an empty crevice. Mordecai waddled over to the Candychan just as water sprung into the sky, its crystal blue waters flowed in the wind like ribbons fluttering in the sunlight. The geyser of water ceased once the waters filled the top of the lake and the water rained down giving Mordecai refreshing hope and strengthening him beyond what he thought was possible. The faded rainbow surged with color as light shimmered and the rainbow swelled with new-found life. The magic of Neopia had been restored, thanks to Patrick! He had done it! Mordecai raced over to the Candychan with Gumdrop still in his arms.

      "Hello there!" Mordecai called. The Candychan turned to reveal a grave face. Mordecai was caught off guard. "Where is Patrick, the green Psimouse that was here just moments before me?"

      "Time works differently her than out there. He was here almost an hour by my perception. He just restored the magic. He actually did it."

      "Well where is he?" Mordecai was beginning to understand what had happened.

      "The gumdrop was not enough. That's why Patrick had to do it. The rainbow is full of powerful magic, even in its corrupted state. It made Patrick prove himself and prove that he was worthy of giving his magic to the rainbow."

      "So where is Patrick?" Mordecai retained a little hope, but not as much as when the waters of the rainbow pool rained down on him.

      "Patrick gave the rainbow everything he had, not just his magic to ensure that magic would be returned to Neopia. He was a hero after all.

      "He's gone?" The Candychan nodded.

      "He had a shouting match with someone down there, but I didn't see anything. I was scared because we had Petpets approach the pool before, but no one could stand before the pool without failing. He was the first to pass, but it did not sound easy." Mordecai looked to the Candychan.

      "He had mentioned a red Psimouse at one point. I don't think he actually existed though. I think it might have been part of his imagination."

      "Or it was the rainbow testing him." The Candychan said.

      "Patrick was dealing with Nash since his youth. You think the rainbow was testing him for that long, even before it was in trouble?"

      "The rainbow is a confusing source of magic. One that we cannot comprehend. It's better to appreciate the mysteries than to understand the logic. This Nash character that Patrick dealt with could have been the rainbow, or it could have been himself. We may never know. One thing is certain. Both him and Gumdrop were heroes." The Candychan gestured towards the Jinjah. "Now he may finally be at rest. Place him in the waters and he will be consumed by the rainbow to spread his joy throughout Neopia." Mordecai followed his instructions. He let the Jinjah slip into the water as he sank below, his body dissolving into the pool. Mordecai looked out into the waters.

      "Thank you Patrick. I will remember you." A tear trailed down his cheek. The Dragoyle did nothing to stop it. "I will remember you… friend." He got up and was about to leave when he noticed a green hat. That was Patrick's pride and joy. He never went anywhere without it. Yet he was able to part with it in the end. Patrick had changed. He didn't need his hat to prove himself. He wasn't motivated by proving others wrong to make himself feel better. He was motivated by integrity- he wanted to do the right thing, even when nobody would know.

     The End.