A Molten Friend

     A little too dark.

     “Drat,” she thought. The clocktower light was out.

     It was 6 a.m. in Neovia, the sky not yet as light as it should be. You see, in Neovia, the sun almost never shined. The misty town did not stay in total night around the clock, but rather in a grey, dusk-like state when there should be brilliant daylight. The clock tower that loomed over the sleepy town normally served as the main source of light in the sky. Today, not so much.

     The Starry Zafara hastily rose from the bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and smoothing her fur in one fell motion. She slipped on a cape, and quickly scampered to the door of her small, stone cottage. As the keeper of the clocktower, it was her responsibility to make sure the town’s most important landmark was maintained, and today she had her work cut out for her. It was a bit of a lonely job, but someone had to do it.

     Scurrying along the quiet cobblestone streets, it was only a short time before she came to a large wooden door at the base of the tower. Her keys jangled as she searched for the near-ancient skeleton key that would unlock it. Finding the right one, the door groaned and ached as it opened, clearly having been resting for quite some time.

     “I should really get to oiling those hinges,” the little Neopet thought to herself.

     The stairs also creaked and shuddered as she ascended the tower, which was no small feat. Step after step after step in a spiral would normally leave one dizzy, but the Zafara had no issue with it. Reaching the top, the issue of the light became obvious.

     Someone had let all the glow worms out. Probably some silly children who snuck in and thought they were being creative pranksters, or perhaps that pesky Pant Devil stole them.

     “Drat,” she thought again. This meant a trip to Moltara was in order. She hated Moltara.

     Step after step after step, she descended, this time going a bit slower as she knew what a long trip lay ahead of her to that awful place.

     *****

     The train rattled to a stop along the tracks. “Altador! This stop is Altador,” shouted the conductor. The Starry Zafara didn’t mind Altador, in fact, she found it quite nice to see the sun glistening off the towering white buildings. Perhaps in another life, she would move there. Unfortunately, her stay wasn’t long. The next boat to Moltara left momentarily, so she hustled among the train crowd to the harbour.

     Just barely making her boat, part of her almost wished she would’ve missed it. That would’ve meant a nice day in Altador, and delaying Moltara just a bit more. The ship heaved as it departed the harbour, and the Starry Zafara sighed, thinking of the upcoming dreadful descent into that hot, lava-ridden place.

     *****

     The elevator. She hated that Fyoraforsaken elevator. The Starry Zafara rubbed her temples as she stepped on, bracing for the far-too-long descent into darkness.

     “Nice day to enjoy the lava,” the elevator operator said through a grin. The Zafara stared blankly at him, attempting to feign interest, but her face couldn’t lie. It was not a nice day to enjoy the lava. No day was a nice day to enjoy the lava.

     “Right then,” said the operator, and he pulled the lever to head down. Down and down and down. Darker and darker and darker; and then, hotter, and hotter, and hotter. The warm glow of Neopia’s molten core made its presence known. Despite the heat, the little Zafara shuddered. “This place,” she thought “is truly the worst Neopia has to offer.” She needed to be in and out as fast as possible.

     “Welcome to Moltara, miss!” declared the operator. In spite of her grim mood, the Starry Zafara thanked him, tipped him a few Neopoints, and scampered off as fast as she could. Her only goal was Lampwycks, and not anything could distract her.

     The lava cracked and growled as she scurried along the rocky streets. She could almost FEEL herself singing. “I would rather spend a month at the top of Terror Mountain,” she muttered to herself. Lampwyck’s was just ahead, she was almost there. So close to her only purpose…but unbeknownst, she was being watched. Closely.

     *****

     A little face peeked out from behind a rock. An ignalce, small for his size, and quite lonely. He watched as a Neopet, who did not look much like the others here, made her way up the long staircase to Lampwyck’s. Her starry fur looked warm and inviting, and her dark, shining eyes, were soft and kind. Perhaps, a friend. Someone to love him, to feed him treats, to cuddle, maybe even take him somewhere nicer than Moltara.

     Hesitantly, he emerged from his hiding spot, and began to trail the Starry Zafara.

     *****

     “SCRAM!!!!!” Cried Lampwyck. That darn Petpet was back, looking for a snack, he assumed. “Sorry about that. How can I help you miss?” The Starry Zafara looked over her shoulder just in time to see a little creature, an ignalce, small for his size, scamper out the door. “I need glow worms, and a lot, please,” she declared, “the clocktower is out again.”

     “Ah yes, welcome back,” Lampwyck replied, “I have just enough white and yellow glow worms left; will make for a nice blend of warm and cool light.” Slipping off into the back, Lampwyck emerged with a box nearly the size of the Zafara herself. “On the house today, you’ve been a loyal customer for years.” The Starry Zafara smiled for the first time since she got to Moltara, what a nice surprise! “Thank you very kindly, Lampwyck,” and she lugged the massive box out the store.

     *****

     “Ugh,” grunted the little Zafara. This darned box was so heavy! The last elevator of the day was leaving soon, and she had no idea how she was going to get the box of glow worms over in time. Getting stuck in Moltara for the night was the worst possible fate, she knew she had to make quick work. The task seemed near impossible, and in the moment, she wished she had a friend to help her.

     Pushing and pulling and heaving and hauling, she struggled along with the box, the minutes counting down to the last elevator departure. “I’m never going to make it!” she cried out, and collapsed to the ground in a panic.

     Suddenly, the box moved on its own; and then again. Bit by bit, she watched in awe as the box seemed to scoot by itself, and then she noticed.

     A little Petpet, an ignalce, small for his size, and quite lonely, butted his head into the box. Inch by inch, he scooted the box closer to the elevator to the rest of Neopia.

     “Oh!” exclaimed the Zafara, “you push, I’ll pull!” Little by little, the newfound team made their way to the elevator, just barely making it in time. The elevator operator helped lift the box on, and the Starry Zafara hopped in quickly. Looking at the ignalce, she said “thank you for your help, little friend,” and the elevator gate clinked shut behind her.

     This time, she did sense she was being watched. Sad, longing eyes, gazed at her from the other side of the gate.

     “Wait,” she told the operator, “open the gate.” Hesitantly, the ignalce, small for his size, delicately approached. The little Zafara scooped him into her arms, and once again the gate shut behind them.

     “Looks like you’ve got yourself a friend,” the operator said as they ascended.

     Never in her life did the Zafara think she would own a Moltaran Petpet, but perhaps, just maybe, not everything from that Fyoraforsaken lava land was all bad.

     “Let’s go home little friend. Let’s go home.”

     The End.