“It started one snowy day on Terror Mountain…”
“Isn’t it always snowy?”
“Hush, I’m telling this story. Anyway the current Snow Faerie was busy studying
a list of ingredients for her potions…”
“Was it great-grandma or great-great grandma or great-great-great-grandma??”
“Listen frost bite, who’s telling this story?” The old wizened women leaned
forward in her rocker and tapped the small girl on the nose.
“You are.” The child crossed her arms and frowned, her pale blue eyes narrowed.
“Then listen.” The old woman settled back. “As I said she was busy making her
lists, when the door of her cottage burst open. A flurry of snow, wind and ice
swept in around the intruder. When the door was closed, the wind and snow abated.
There before her very eyes…” The old woman paused. “There stood…” She frowned,
her smile turned upside down.
The little girl turned her head. “Mum! Gram forgotted again!” Her voice startled
the Snowy creatures dozing before the fire. In a bundle of fur and fangs the
creatures woke, untangling themselves in frenzied motion.
A tall slender young woman appeared in the doorway, draped with a blue snowflake
patterned apron. She was drying her hands on a towel. She looked at the chaos
and sighed.
“Elsa how many times have I asked you to speak softly inside?” she spoke as
she separated the tangle of white fur.
“Only a million,” the child Elsa said. “To speak as softly as the snowflakes
fall on a midnight sky under a gentle wind,” she quoted dutifully.
“Very well, now what seems to be the matter?” She sat on a velvet covered window
seat, the wintry night clear and the stars bright behind her.
“Move you oaf!” One of the white furry creatures pushed at the others. “She’s
going to tell a story.
“Mira. Name calling?”
The white Kougress frowned. “He stepped on my tail.” She pointed to the white
Lupe.
“Did not,” the Lupe in question, one Ice by name, growled.
“Can we get on with it all ready?” The old woman snapped, having lost her
audience.
“With what?” A yawning Wocky appeared in the doorway. Her midnight blue coat
was striped with white.
“Mum is going to tell a story Kess!” Elsa proclaimed as she climbed into her
mother lap.
“Oh lovely!” Kess the Wocky was suddenly awake. “I’ll get the others!” The
sound of her pattering feet could be heard along with the slamming of a door.
“No one ever gets excited over my stories,” the old woman grumbled.
“Perhaps it is because you forget them…” Ice said. “Ouch… Hey! Tara stepped
on my tail.” The white Kougress looked the other way.
“You go girl.”
“Now Gram…” The mother protested.
“Oh hush Faerelle.” Gram snorted. “We old folks have to get even some how.”
“Perhaps…” Faerelle pulled Elsa closer as she leaned against the window frame.
The sound of scurrying and hurrying feet ended the cozy scene, as two boys
along with several animals stumbled into the room. Kess and another Wocky of
the same hue crowded into a chair while three white Aisha’s piled around them.
The silver Kougra and another white Lupe entered at a slower speed, as did the
electric Eyrie. The two boys were twins, noted by the identical ice coloured
eyes and ebony hair. They threw themselves upon the rug in front of the fire.
“Well.” Faerelle looked about her. “Are we missing anyone?”
“Fa is tending to the equines.” One boy spoke…
“He’ll be in shortly.” … And the other finished.
“Hmpfh.” Gram crossed her arms. “Just like his father.”
“Mum, the story please?” Elsa looked up at her mother.
“Well I suppose Drake? Talon?” She looked at the twins. “Any requests?”
They shook their heads. As the menagerie settled themselves, Faerelle began
the story. She leaned back and folded her hands her eyes bright.
“Listen children to this story of days gone by….”
***
It was a snowy windy day. Most every one had stayed indoors, for storms on
Terror mountain could be frightfully dangerous. More then one Neopian had lost
their lives trying to battle the elements.
In a small cottage at the very top of the mountain far before the Ski Lodge
was actually built lived a young woman, now she had been orphaned at a young
age and had grown up mostly by herself. Soon though it became apparent she had
unusual gifts of healing and intelligence, so much so that others who lived
on the summit began thinking of her as Fae. Which she was of course. But it
was on this night of snowy tempests that she found herself pouring over ancient
manuscripts of potions and such.
“Tigersquash?” she asked herself. “What in the Snow is that?” She continued
reading. “Frozen lemon juice? Pumpkin cookies? With frogs!” She sat back astonished.
“Whatever could that be?”
For you see she had lived all her life upon the mountain and had no idea about
the world below her. With the few Chias’ and Poogle's that lived around her
she knew no one else. These things she read about were strange and unheard of.
But her quest for knowledge was a powerful thing. She just had to know what
these things were.
To be continued... | 
