An Eternal Empire

     “Look upon the great city of Geraptiku, seat of a glorious empire. A hub of music, art, culture, and commerce. Thousands come from all across the sea for our festivals, and with the strongest weapons available, we are nigh undefeated in warfare. Our people communicate and connect across boundaries, and we’ve created a network which expands through the whole island. Look upon our buildings, erected by Neopets’ bare hands over centuries to last forevermore. It’s a beautiful sight, is it not?” Eleapha made a grand gesture out the window of her stone tower, which stood high above the rest of the city.

     “Yeah, it’s pretty nice, my liege. So, why did you call me in?” Lura fidgeted, clearly looking bored. She tried to maintain a calm facade, but the Acara’s ears always twitched when she thought she had better places to be.

     “Well, Lura, I’ve been thinking about my legacy.” The Hissi fully extended her wings, attempting to resemble the icons of winged Quetzals that surrounded the city.

     “My liege, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I mean, in just 10 years, you’ve turned Geraptiku into an amazing city. We rule the entire island, we’ve got trade deals going with Maraqua to give us nigh unbreakable Maractite weapons and tools, and we have exploration missions going all the way into the Lost Desert. I don’t think there’s been a better ruler in recorded history.” She smirked slightly, knowing Eleapha wouldn’t notice. She’d gotten very good at faking enthusiasm, it’s what had gotten her this far.

     “Yes, I know that I’ve built Geraptiku into something that will last for thousands of years, and that we’ll be remembered for all time, but will anyone remember me? Sure, I’m recorded in the tablets, but those don’t have staying power. The original myths and legends of Geraptiku may have been recorded, but they’ve been lost to the people. We still celebrate Gadgadsbogen, sure, but no one remembers why. What if after I’m gone, I, too, fade into myth?”

     “You are not a myth. You are a legend. I’m sure your name will be spoken for thousands of years. But, out of curiosity, what did you have in mind to be remembered forevermore?”

     “A great monument, Lura. Think of the Gebmids in the Lost Desert. The Time of Petpets was long before any of our ancestors, but we still speak of King Sutek because of what he built. The original carver of Techo Mountain is unknown, but their impact on the landscape is known to all who cross the sea. If I build something like that, I will never be forgotten.”

     “Hmm. Interesting idea, we could probably get it done within 5 years or so if we put everyone to work. I’ve also got some other ideas about what we could do with something like that to make it more of a monument to Geraptiku itself than just to you. Besides, making it a more inclusive effort should make people work harder.”

     “Well, let’s hear them, Lura! You’ve never misguided me before.”

     “How about we get everyone to put their most prized possession into the monument, making it a time capsule of sorts? When we open it, everyone puts their contribution in, and then we seal the door and throw the key into the sea. One day in the distant future, someone will find it, open the capsule, and see everything we held dear.”

     “Lura, you’re a genius. I’ll write up the announcements, can you go talk to the architects about getting plans done sometime this week? I can’t wait to get started, this is gonna be the highlight of my reign!” Eleapha made a high-pitched noise of excitement and flapped her wings, ending up a few Cobrall-lengths above the floor. She had no illusions of maintaining a calm facade as ruler. Lura almost felt guilty about what she had planned, the empress seemed so elated about her help.

     Go talk to the architects, Lura. You’re a genius, Lura. Go get the actual work done while I dance around my tower claiming it was all my idea, Lura. The Acara muttered this in a mocking tone as she climbed down the thousands of stairs to leave the tower. She was going to talk to the architects, yes, she knew defying the empress’ will was an idiotic idea, but she was going to stop at one of her other local hangouts first, far on the west side of the city. She opened the door to the small hut. Only she and 2 others knew its true purpose, as far as anyone else was concerned, it was a mere Petpet shop.

     “What’s up? I’ve got some news from the palace.” She stepped into the hut, throwing her royal feather cape into the mud.

     “Does it pertain to finally getting rid of Eleapha? If not, it doesn’t concern me.” Nikala smirked, showing several sharp teeth. The Eyrie was known as one of the city’s greatest warriors, but the other members of the secret council knew he was truly a coward, just one with the money to buy aesthetically damaged armour.

     “I’m pretty sure it does. See, the little Erisim is all concerned about her legacy. She wants people to remember her reign and everything she did for Geraptiku.”

     “More like did to Geraptiku.” Holobo’s tail swished back and forth, as it always did when he made a snarky remark. Lura was neutral to the Jetsam at best, but he was skilled at deception so was of reasonable use to her.

     "I know. But be patient. Soon we'll be rid of her once and for all.”

     “Oh, we’re going to finally depose her? Now I’m intrigued. But we’ve been being patient for the last 10 years. If we’re going to destroy her, we’ll need to do it soon.”

     “We will, Holobo. You see, she wants to make some sort of monument. Put all the treasures of Geraptiku in there so it’s some sort of message to future civilizations. Utterly idiotic, but this is our chance to get the people to hate her. She’s putting me in charge of the project, like she always does. If I overwork the people, they’ll grow to despise her, and then no one will object at the final unveiling where I preserve her...more directly than she had in mind.” She let out a subtle chuckle as she scanned the faces of her companions, which suddenly seemed substantially less sceptical about her plans.

     Under Lura’s command, complete with her promised overworking of the people, the monument was completed in record time, with its structure ready to be unveiled within 2 years. And just as she had planned, the workers were thoroughly annoyed. Under a harsh work schedule, they didn’t have time to sleep, care for their families, or even grow food. Combined with the fact that they were barely paid enough to survive on, by the completion of the project, nobody remembered or cared about Eleapha’s legacy. The only thought they had about her was that they wanted her gone, exactly as Lura had planned. As she returned to the palace to inform the empress of the good news, she chuckled to herself. What she’d had planned ever since Eleapha rose to power could finally come to fruition.

     “You know, there is something really nice about being the royal advisor. I never have to take accountability for anything. If anybody objects, I can just say it was Eleapha’s idea. And as far as anyone knows, it is.”

     On the day of the unveiling, the city square was buzzing with activity, with a turnout that hadn’t been seen since Eleapha’s coronation. Everyone brought the thing they held most dear: farmers brought their crops, artists brought their favourite works, and even the smallest children carried their favourite toys and drawings. Eleapha stared down from her stone tower, filled with glee and surprise at all the people who had gathered to celebrate Geraptiku, to celebrate the monument, to celebrate her. She’d struggled with living up to Zulakaea’s legacy for her entire reign, and always felt like she’d never quite be good enough as empress, but seeing all the hubbub in the square, she knew that she was loved, respected, and most importantly, had made a real, positive impact. She turned to Lura, who seemed oddly quiet for such a monumental occasion. She expected the royal advisor to be celebrating, after all, it was her coordination which brought this amazing accomplishment to life.

     “So, what are you bringing, Lura? I kinda figured if you didn’t bring anything, you’d at least engrave your name on one of the base bricks or something, I wouldn’t have complained. After all, none of what I’ve done during my reign would be possible without you.”

     “Oh, I’m sure what happens in the square this evening will be remembered forever, just the fact that I’ve been a part of all this is enough of a contribution for me.”

     “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. I’ll make sure the tablets mention you, no sense in me taking all the credit where it isn’t due.”

     The empress and her advisor entered the city center exactly at sunset, bedecked in their full royal finery, adorned with beads, Petpet feathers, and treasures from Geraptiku’s trade partners. As they strode west towards the setting sun and the great pyramid, Neopets cheered and bowed, with local musicians and chefs providing musical accompaniment and delicious food to the festivities. Eleapha wished she could enjoy the party, but knew what she needed to do for the culmination of all she had done as empress. She and Lura stood on either side of the pyramid’s great door as all the citizens of Geraptiku climbed the stairs to make their contributions. Once all the contributions had been made, Eleapha moved to the center of the door, the setting sun glinting off the ceremonial beads which covered her wings.

     “My subjects, no, my friends, this is a truly significant moment in the history of Geraptiku. What you all have contributed your labour and your most prized possessions to will be remembered for thousands of years. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have such amazing people in my city, and I hope Neopets from all across time and space will see this and remember me, but also remember all of you and your hard work. Thank you all. This wouldn’t have been possible without Lura, my trusted advisor. Would you like to say a few words?” She turned towards the Acara, who wore a disturbing expression, closer to a smirk than anything that made sense at a celebration.

     “Yes, I would. Now!” An Eyrie and a Jetsam emerged from the shadows, brandishing torches and running through the celebration, setting fire to anything that caught their eye, burning banners, trees, and more. Amidst the chaos, no one continued to look towards the door of the great pyramid, where Eleapha watched in horror as the Acara advanced.

     “Lura...why would you do this? You know I appreciated you, right? I loved you, you were truly my greatest ally and my best friend.”

     “Why would I do this? Simple. You were never meant to rule. Geraptiku was meant to be ruled by the people, those who actually understand the populace they attempt to govern. Sure, you strengthened Geraptiku in trade and warfare, but look around you. The people despise you. Pushing all your work onto your advisor and ignoring their complaints wasn’t sustainable, my liege. The people don’t want to remember or love you, they only like you because you enforce it by fear. But if you want to be preserved forever, so be it. Long live the Empress.”

     She pushed Eleapha through the great door into the pyramid, and behind her, a burly Jetsam pulled the lever to seal the door, preventing any escape. The time capsule was truly impenetrable, even air couldn’t get through the stone walls. Lura looked down upon the burning ruins of the festival from the door of the pyramid, twirling the key in her paw. This wasn’t the elegant vengeance she envisioned, but it’d do. Now her secret council could take control, improving their own situation. The citizens of Geraptiku? They were just an inconvenience to be overcome.

     Eleapha slithered around the massive antechamber of the great pyramid. She’d pretend there was some way to exit from the inside, but she knew that wasn’t the case, she’d seen the plans. Looking at all the treasures of Geraptiku, she struggled to see the meaning in it all. Was what Lura said true? Did the citizens really only obey her out of fear? Had she really not made any impact beyond governmental matters? These questions continued to haunt her as she wandered the pyramid. What was the point of being recorded when what was recorded wasn’t legitimate?

     The fires Holobo and Nikala had started during the festival hadn’t been properly contained as Neopets fled from the festival, so when Lura looked out of the palace window the following day, she looked down upon a barren landscape, grey with ash. There wasn’t a speck of green remaining anywhere in the city, and Petpets cried plaintively for food that wouldn’t come. It’d take decades for the palm trees to regrow and given that the dry season was months away, farmers probably didn’t have many seeds stored to replace the crops that were destroyed. She hadn’t gotten around to throwing the key to the great pyramid into the sea, and figured she’d do that while surveying the land to determine the scope of the destruction. This would be hard to justify if anyone realized that her advisors were to blame, hopefully no one remembered yesterday’s events in all the confusion. Idiots. she thought as she walked down the beach. I told them to cause a distraction so there wouldn’t be witnesses. I assumed when they started fires they were going to extinguish them! What’s the point of absolute power there’s barely anything worthwhile left to rule? Once she had gotten close enough to the sea, she unceremoniously dropped the key into the waves, to be carried off somewhere. She didn’t much care where, she just needed to get it over with so she could have a stern talk with her companions before coming up with an excuse for her first royal announcement. She could probably blame the fires on the Lava Ghoul or something.

     Eleapha didn’t care about her legacy anymore. She just wanted to escape, to eat, to do something. The stone walls were closing in, and the carvings moved. They talked to her, telling her how she was never a good empress, would never be remembered, didn’t make any real impact. She ignored them. That level of thought had long since been lost to her. All she cared about was food. She was hungry. So hungry. Nothing else mattered. She needed to eat something. Anything.

     The key to the Deserted Tomb had been found long ago, and now thousands of Neopets explored it every day in hopes of finding treasure. One day, a young Hissi took a wrong turn and encountered the ghost of a Hissi, still adorned with ceremonial feathers and beads. Who was that Hissi? What happened to them, and what happened to Geraptiku? How could such a great city fall, its legends and history forgotten? The ghost Hissi screamed with thousands of years of rage and desperation.

     “*RAWR* ME HUNGRY!”

      The End.