975 Ways to Say I’m Sorry

     Fyora looked down at the sparkling neon-pink quill in her hand, uncertain. “Is this truly something that I can consider a good deed?” she wondered to herself. “It’s not really an act of selflessness if I’m just doing this to make myself feel less guilty, is it?”

     She gently stroked the soft tufts of her quill as she contemplatively stared out the window. Truth be told, she didn’t particularly like the look of the glimmering, obnoxiously shiny quill she was writing with. The flashy style was more suited for a young child than for a mature and regal Faerie Queen, which was fitting, for it was a wide-eyed young girl who had gifted this quill to Fyora. The Faerie Queen remembered the bright smile of the little Speckled Xweetok who had presented it to her, green eyes glimmering with excitement behind her thick spectacles. “Happy holidays, your majesty!” the girl had exclaimed, many years ago. “I wanted to give you something to thank you for letting me study magic here at Faerieland! Miss Naia taught me how to enchant it to make it all sparkly and pretty!”

     The quality of the enchantment was impressive for the girl’s age, but the quill still looked quite gaudy. Nevertheless, Fyora cherished it. Years and years later, it was still her favourite quill, the only quill that she would use to write in her journal. It used to bring her joy; each time she wrote with it, she remembered young Xandra’s brilliant smile. Now, seeing it brought her great sadness, but Fyora couldn’t bring herself to write with any other quill.

     Where had it all gone wrong? Fyora recalled another memory with young Xandra. The two of them were strolling down the streets of Faerie City, hand in hand, taking in the marvellous sight of Faerie Neopets gleefully flying around the city, when Xandra heard the faint sound of a child crying in the distance. Fyora and Xandra investigated the source of the noise and found a young Red Kacheek sitting on the ground in an alley behind the Faerie Foods store, sobbing quietly into his hands.

     “What’s wrong?” young Xandra had asked. She had always been a compassionate child.

     “T-the Pant Devil stole my Faerie Paint Brush,” the Kacheek sniffled. “Now I’ll never be pretty.”

     “That’s so unlucky… But you’ve got a bunch of Faerie Paint Brushes lying around in the Hidden Tower, right, your majesty?” Xandra turned to Fyora, hope shimmering in her eyes. “Can’t you give him one?”

     Fyora smiled sadly. “I’m sorry, Xandra. Misfortune is just a sad reality of this world. The Faeries can’t be responsible for returning every lost item in Neopia. We can’t solve the problems of everyone in the world. Come along now. Let’s head back to the academy.”

     Xandra disappointedly followed Fyora out of the alley, leaving the crying Kacheek behind.

     “These are the kinds of difficult decisions that you have to make as a grown-up,” Fyora explained to her. “You understand, right? Please don’t be mad at me.”

     “…I understand,” Xandra replied, reluctantly. She tried to smile at Fyora to show her that she wasn’t upset, but Fyora could see that the sparkle in her eyes had dimmed down, just a little.

     Thinking back on memories like those made Fyora cringe. She had been so aloof and callous back then. High up in her tower in the clouds of Faerieland, the troubles of the Neopets living in the world down below had seemed so trivial. But years and years of witnessing such events had gradually hardened Xandra’s heart, turning her innocent optimism into fiery rage.

     A strong gust of wind blew in from the open window, snapping Fyora out of her thoughts. It was snowing now, and the wind had blown a light dusting of snowflakes into the room. Fyora closed the window and decided that she should leave before the snowfall became too heavy. She picked up a bouquet of Glass Roses – Xandra’s favourite flower as a child – from her desk and walked out the door into the snowy night. The streets were quiet. All the other residents of Faerieland were busy indoors, spending the holiday with their loved ones. The other Faeries had invited Fyora to their annual holiday party (“You should come to this one,” Mira had said when she handed Fyora the invitation. “It’s not good to be alone for the holidays. Even the Happiness Faerie is coming this year!”), but Fyora was in no mood for festivities. This time of year always brought painful memories, memories of the holidays Fyora had spent with Xandra.

     The first winter after Xandra had been turned to stone was the first holiday season that Fyora spent alone. She’d been walking down the streets of Faerie City, wallowing in sorrow and guilt, when she’d heard quiet sniffling coming from the alley to her left. Feeling a curious sense of déjà vu, Fyora walked into the alley and found a teary-eyed young Blue Zafara holding a Kiko Lake Team Foam Finger. “The Kiko Lake Altador Cup team came and took my Fluffy Faerie Pancakes,” the child sobbed. “I don’t have any Neopoints left!”

     Determined not to make the same mistake again, Fyora took the child’s hand and walked with them into the Faerie Foods store. She bought a Bacon Belly Buster, three packs of Fire Faerie Gum, a dozen Light Faerie Cupcakes, a Fyora Apple (“It’s important to eat lots of fruits and veggies,” Fyora explained to the child.), and of course, a tall, freshly-made stack of Fluffy Faerie Pancakes. When Fyora presented the food to the young Zafara, the child’s face broke into a heart-warming smile that eased Fyora’s heavy heart, just a bit. “Thank you so much, your majesty!” the child exclaimed gleefully, before swallowing an entire pancake in a single bite.

     The child finished their food, but as they were standing up to leave, Fyora found herself asking, “…Do you want a Faerie Paint Brush?”

     “What? Why?” the bewildered child answered. “I can’t possibly accept another gift from you, your majesty. You’ve already been far too kind to me.” The child kissed Fyora on the cheek and walked out of the shop.

     “I can’t solve the problems of everyone in the world,” Fyora had thought to herself. “But at least I was able to solve the problems of this one innocent child. It’s far too late, but I hope this makes you proud. I’ll dedicate this good deed to you, Xandra.”

     That was the first of many acts of kindness that she performed over the years in Xandra’s honour. Her second good deed was helping an Elderly Girl Chia carry a heavy bag of groceries.

     “Is it really okay for Queen Fyora to be helping me carry this?” the grateful Chia had asked. “Aren’t you too busy with important Faerie matters?”

     “I’m never too busy to help someone in need,” Fyora had replied. “An old friend of mine helped me see that.”

     Good deed number 973 was rescuing a Kadoatie that was stuck in a tree. With a wave of her staff and some magic words, Fyora gently levitated the distressed Petpet back down onto the ground. It would’ve taken the Warf Rescue Team an hour to get the Kadoatie down, but the power of Faerie magic accomplished the task in seconds.

     Fyora recorded every good deed she performed in her journal, always using the same obnoxious pink quill that Xandra had made for her. Each time, she imagined how Xandra would react. She would picture a world in which the Faeries never turned a blind eye to the problems of the Neopets down in Neopia, where Xandra would stay by Fyora’s side forever, the two of them helping the world together, one problem at a time.

     Fyora finally arrived at the courtyard where Xandra’s petrified body was kept, fulfilling good deed number 974. As she tenderly laid the bouquet of Glass Roses at Xandra’s stony feet, she had a sudden realization. These acts of kindness that she had been performing hadn’t really been meant to be simple selfless good deeds; they were 974 apologies to Xandra for Fyora’s role in shaping the Xweetok into the villain that she had become.

     “I hope that when your petrification is cured, you can wake up to a world that you can be proud of. I’m sorry for letting you down, Xandra. I’m sorry.”

     That was Fyora’s 975th and final apology. From now on, Fyora’s good deeds would not be for the sake of assuaging her own guilt. It was time for her to move on from her regretful past. From now on, Fyora vowed to work for the sake of building a brighter future for the people of Neopia, just like Xandra would have wanted.

     The End.