The Vault of the Forsaken by too_kule |  |
The moon hung in the deep, velvety blue sky, casting an
eerie glow upon the various buildings that scattered the bulk of Neopia Central.
The dusty roads, while teeming with herds of Neopets on their daily errands during
the day, were totally barren under the star-strewn sky. Absolute silence engulfed
the city, excepting the occasion hum of a Cooty or chirp of a Vernax.
It would seem as if not a soul inhabited the city that
night, but that impression would be tossed aside by the sudden movement in the
shadows. A tiny Neopet peeked but one eye out from behind the oversized ceramic
Buzzer that sat in front of the Petpet Shop. The pet walked -- or better yet,
bounced -- across the emerald lawn of the Neolodge, where it hopped inside the
still water of the Neolodge fountain for refuge. It peeked from the sanctity
of the fountain to be sure no prying eyes gazed from the hotel’s windows before
leaping out of and gambolling toward the shabby Post Office where she stopped
to catch her breath.
The figure produced a brown paper bag; from it she
pulled out her most valued possession, something she had come to use so many
times before, and would come to use so many times again -- a poet's hat. She
pulled the hat snug around her wide head, and pulled out a compact mirror with
a dim light issuing from a small bulb on the side. She peered into the mirror,
and from its glass an island Kiko peered back. The poet’’s hat atop her head
clashing formidably with the poinsettia adjacent to it and the island motif
painted on her skin
The Kiko inhaled deeply, and leapt from behind the
Post Office, springing across the dew-drenched grass. The blue feather atop
her hat swayed in the wind as she swiftly approached the looming statue of a
Chia adorning poet garbs while clutching a tattered scroll. The island-painted
Kiko rapped nine times in succession on the base of the statue, and let her
knocks echo off into the distance. Suddenly, a hoarse whisper issued from somewhere
inside the statue. "Password?" the voice inquired.
The Kiko inhaled deeply, before saying quite clearly,
"Dewdrops of the Heavens." It seemed like every week the password changed to
another one of Alstaf the Poogle's prestigious works.
A faint grinding sound suffused the air as the statue's
base began to open just wide enough for her to wiggle through. She came into
a dimly lit room with a curving set of stairs going beneath the ground. The
Kiko turned to see a smiling Nimmo standing there in the shadows, also donning
a poet's hat. "Good to see you again, Camille," the Nimmo greeted in an oddly
raspy voice. "I hope you'll be stopping by the Poetry Gallery around eleven.
Rumour has it B.K. McQuiggle will be stopping by around then to give some tips.
It'd be a shame to miss that."
The Kiko smiled politely and said, "Thanks, I'll be
sure to check it out!"
The Nimmo returned her smile and handed her a flickering
torch from the stone wall. Camille carefully made her way down the crumbling
stone steps, careful not to slip under the decade's-worth of grime. When at
last she reached the bottom, she stared at the door in front of her. She raised
one sweaty hand and pulled open the door. It was as if a tidal wave hit her,
the animated chatter and the jovial saxophone music were enough to knock her
down. Camille peered around the room. In the far corner, she could see the infamous
musical group Jazzmosis playing the cheerful music, much different from their
usual moody tones. Right next to them, a group of Aishas was crowded around
a glass campfire that emitted light. A striped one stood and spoke deep, meaningful
words. Not far from that was the Coffee Shop. Through the windows Camille could
see a queue of pets enjoying various caffeinated drinks while reading the latest
copy of The Neopian Times. The Deep Catacombs was alive and bustling that night,
just like every night Camille could remember.
About an hour had passed when Camille gamboled out
of Art Gallery, clutching a cup with only the dregs of her blairnut tea remaining.
By then she had visited the Poetry Gallery, Coffee Shop, Art Gallery, and the
Neopian Times Headquarters. She eyed a small table by the Coffee Shop and sat
down while draining the remains of her tea. The island Kiko picked up a yellowing
copy of The Neopian Times sitting on the table, glanced at the front and tossed
it aside. It was a decaying issue of the first volume of The Neopian Times.
That particular issue featured the Meerca's debut. Camille sighed and carelessly
slid her cup from one side of the table to the other, catching it just in time
with her hands. The Neopian Times, Neopia's number one newspaper, was probably
Camille's favourite part of the catacomb. She had read every single issue and
couldn't wait another entire week for the next.
Well, she thought to herself miserably, I haven't read
every issue.
The truth was, there were only ninety issues of the
classic version of The Neopian Times in the archives, but a total of one-hundred-twelve
copies had been released. For some reason, the first twenty-two had mysteriously
vanished from the face of the planet.
Camille futilely tried to stifle a yawn and bounced
down from her stool with the intention of returning home in her mind. She turned
to the exit when something caught her eye. It was so obvious she couldn't understand
why nobody had noticed it before: a fissure, just large enough for her to fit
through, was in the rock wall to the left of the Coffee Shop. She hopped over
to it and peered through. It was difficult to be sure of, but she could just
barely make out a spiraling staircase, not unlike the one she had descended
to get to the catacomb in the darkness. She looked over to be sure nobody was
watching, and turned sideways. She squeezed as hard as she could before finally
bursting out through the other side of the fissure.
The music that had permeated her ears back in the lobby
seemed distant despite the fact she could still see the weary saxophonist producing
even more blaring notes through the large crevice. Camille looked down the stone
steps, feeling a lump down rising in her throat. The island-painted Kiko gathered
her courage, pulled her checkered poet's hat tighter around her head as if that
could protect her from whatever could lurk in the darkness, and made her way
down the steps.
The stone was frail, but not weathered like the steps
leading down to the Deep Catacombs. It crumbled under her weight as she descended
deeper and deeper beneath the ground. Wishing she still had her torch, Camille
continued down the steps, wondering what she would find.
After several minutes, she was suddenly surprised how
far the steps had taken her. I must be miles under Neopia! she thought wildly.
It seemed like hours of her just bouncing monotonously
down the steps had passed, but finally the Kiko could make out something in
the darkness. She bounced down the final steps until she arrived on level ground,
and squinted at the large double-doors. She took a deep breath and pushed on
them. They creaked open slowly, revealing a room totally bereft of light.
Upon sudden inspiration, Camille produced her compact
mirror and flipped it open, causing a dim glow to slightly return her sight.
Once Camille's rotund eyes had adjusted to the light, a loud gasp escaped her
mouth. Scattered across the ground were piles upon piles of newspapers. She
picked one up, blew off the dust, and unrolled it. It was a copy of the Neopian
Times, she discovered. Years of remaining in the room had reduced it to the
colour and texture of parchment. She glanced up at the issue number and let
an audible shriek escape her mouth.
"This is... unbelievable," whispered Camille breathlessly.
In faded black ink, the words 'Issue 11' were written at the top. Camille had
read The Neopian Times enough to know this wasn't one from the newer volume,
but one from the old... one of the missing ones.
The Kiko set the copy down carefully, determined not
the let the paper rip, and picked another up from the pile. Sure enough, the
words 'Issue 20' stared up from her. Camille could feel her heart beat a mile
a minute as she clutched that timeworn copy. She picked up several more copies
and turned back to the door. She gasped again. Written on the back of the door
in blood-red letters was a message.
>'Thou hast entered the Vault of the Forsaken,
Leave and take nothing, lest ye feel the wrath of the guardian.'
Camille whimpered, terrified, as a growling sound permeated
the air around her. She slowly turned her terror-filled body around, and stared
straight into the face of a jet-black Puppyblew. Its fur was coarse and disheveled;
its eyes were a shocking shade of red. Inexplicably, Camille knew this was no
average Puppyblew. The Kiko dropped everything she was holding, including her
mirror, and bolted to the door. She raced up the hundreds of steps, not stopping
until she had reached the top. Breathing wildly, she squeezed through the fissure,
falling back into the lobby.
Camille turned back and stared at the fissure, the
horror of the vault fresh in her mind. She shuddered at the absurd notion of
going back there. She turned toward the exit, her heart still beating profusely,
with an odd sense of contempt. The mystery had been solved.
The End
Note: While this story is purely fiction, it is true the first twenty-two
copies of volume one of The Neopian Times vanished off the face of Neopia. However,
it's unlikely they're kept in a vault under the Deep Catacombs, and more likely
they're the victims of a database error.
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