Welcome to the second chapter of The Tale of the Lost Heart. This story puts us into a world of covert operations, hidden allegiances, and high-stakes missions. Join us as we explore the complexities of duty, the weight of responsibility, and the thin line between order and chaos.

Designed by Edu14463

The Tale of the Lost Heart follows History, a second sergeant in the Special Forces of Club Penguin, who the legendary Counselor Scars unexpectedly summons to investigate the theft of a Red Stone, an artifact crucial to maintaining order in their society. As suspicion of a traitor within the ranks grows, History and Scars uncover a conspiracy that threatens to tip the balance of power in favor of the chaotic Blue Rebellion.

CHAPTER 2 – Rhetoric

We left the meeting room, descended the stairs, and entered a corridor that bordered the palace’s right garden, lined with fences, resembling a medieval monastery garden. At the center of the space stood a statue of Scars, pointing a finger like Julius Caesar.

— Beautiful, isn’t it? — asked the man depicted by the sculpture.
— Magnificent! — I replied, knowing it was carved by Master DS, the Michelangelo of the Special Forces.

The sun, which had already dispelled the night’s darkness, illuminated a myriad of illustrious flowers: daisies, lilies, poet’s jasmine, and others, painting the space with colors and breaking the gray uniformity of the artwork at the center. Almost all the flowers had bloomed, except for one: the rose.

At that moment, the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted from the cafeteria, and since I hadn’t had time for breakfast, the fragrance hit my nose and made my mouth water. Fortunately, Scars didn’t want to draw attention, and he suggested we head to the cafeteria to eat so his absence wouldn’t seem suspicious.

We entered the room. Only Mare, the army’s Lieutenant, was there near the coffee pot. She greeted the counselor with a bow and said:
— Your Excellency.
— Have you had your coffee, Lieutenant Mare? — he asked.
— Not yet, I just finished brewing it.
She turned to me and offered:
— Coffee?
— Yes, please — I said — Do we have any oranges here?
— We’re no longer in winter — she informed me.
— Ah… — I responded.
— Wait for summer, and we’ll have more fruits — the officer concluded.

Our meal was brief: Scars was in a hurry. Still, we noticed the soldiers who arrived: Aurora, Jojo Teri, Chicken, Krill, Coolguy, and many others. Nothing seemed unusual; everyone from the previous night was there, except for the leaders — occupied with more important matters, like Ugly, who was on a foreign excursion — and the soldiers guarding the red pieces.

Once we finished, we discreetly headed to the crime scene. To get there, we had to pass through the left garden, identical to the right one, except that the statue was of Joel Freak on his horse.

— Your Excellency, is it true that Joel was the political genius they say? — I asked.
I heard a faint, mocking laugh from the counselor before he said:
— Was he? Before he even became a general of the Special Forces, he was known as the ‘Napoleon of Klondike.’ Besides, not just any general is entrusted with a red piece. If he was given the most precious treasure on earth, he was certainly worthy of such a charge.

— Wow! — I exclaimed. — I didn’t know that. Tell me, how did he die?
— We don’t know if he died — Scars replied.
— What do you mean? — I asked.
— It’s a complex story. But let’s go! We mustn’t waste time! — he concluded, urging me to hurry.

This conversation left me full of curiosity about this mysterious figure from the army. Oh rhetoric of the literati, give me a precise definition of what I felt at that moment. Epic. That is the only word I think can express what I desired: to write a beautiful and captivating epic about Joel Freak’s deeds, like Homer did with Ulysses, or Camões with Vasco da Gama. I had never heard his story, and I had never heard the soldiers — even though they probably didn’t know it either — talking about him. But alas! A nation that doesn’t know the lives of its founders and heroes is a nation that doesn’t know where it came from or where it’s going. Worse yet, it’s a nation without life, without values, without a safe harbor to turn to during life’s storms because it has no mold, and without a mold, no work of art can be sculpted. Perhaps Master DS was filled with the same concern when she decided to make these works using molds of heroes like Caesar.

But regardless of which founder is represented in the icon of the garden, one and the other could enter the chambers of the pieces without the guards’ permission, and so it was with Scars.

Finally, we entered the chamber where the stolen piece was kept, the second to be recovered by our soldiers. It resembled a crypt, at the center of which was a cube similar to a sacrarium, topped with a bust of its legendary bearer. A legendary bearer, dear reader, is someone who created a piece and was its first user. The room was illuminated by numerous candles, with ventilation provided only by two small grated openings on either side.

There were no signs of tampering with the grates, which wouldn’t have allowed even a dwarf to pass through. There was no other entrance to the chamber besides the one we used. However, on the floor, I found a gold ring, and I showed it to Scars.

— This ring belongs to Aurora, and it shows she’s a counselor. It’s just like mine — he said, pointing to his own.
— What could it be doing here? — I asked.
— I don’t know. But it’s important we keep it — the counselor pointed out. — Let’s go out and question the guards.

We exited. The guards, then, performed the customary genuflection they do when an officer of the highest rank passes by. They were Dillon and Jojo, who had been on duty since the previous night.

— If I may, Your Excellency — said the latter —, what are you doing, sir?
— We received a certain report and thought it best to conduct a small inspection — Scars replied. — Please answer me, was there anything wrong last night?
— No, sir! — they both responded.
— Nothing at all?
— Nothing at all, sir! — they reaffirmed.
— Very well.
The soldiers saluted and returned to their post.

As soon as we distanced ourselves from them, I said:
— Your Excellency, don’t you find it strange?
— What?
— They said nothing unusual happened last night… but what about the sounds Diwix reported and Aurora’s ring?
— Well, perhaps they didn’t hear the sounds, and Aurora’s ring may have been there before the incident — he suggested, impassive. — Let’s not jump to conclusions. First, let’s question the ring’s owner, and regarding the sounds, someone who was awake during the night.
— You’re right… — I agreed, though still confused.

Would you like to be featured in the next chapters of this story? What character has been your favorite so far? What do you think will happen in the next chapter?

Edu14463
Editor-in-Chief

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Edu14463

Army Legend. Former Water Ninjas leader. Founder and Former Leader of the Elite Guardians of Club Penguin. Current Club Penguin Armies Editor-in-Chief.