Short Stories
 | My Wandering Lady – A Faerie TaleA large fire burned in the gypsy camp tonight. Around it sat a ring of Neopets. Not gypsies, these. No, they were Meridell locals who had come from all the lands 'round about. For tonight was a special night. Tonight, the Teller of Tales would tell the story of the Wandering Lady.
by reiqua |  | Chaos in the Space StationA loud bang of the front door being slammed echoed in the eventide Zafaras’ long ears. Looking up from his book, Illusens Ixi, Sparkle saw a tall boy with black hair dragging his inventory bag down the hall behind him. “Hey, Mat. What’s up?”
by lilawildflower |  | A Quest for Color"A yellow Chia? How boring," Lena sighed, staring back at her reflection in the pool of water. It had rained again last night, leaving puddles of water all over the path to school. She wouldn't mind the rain normally, except this time it had made it impossible for her not to see her reflection, and that was something Lena hated.
by dragondancer007 |  | Off To The RacesAll neopets are taught to never give up, no matter how impossible something may seem. This is the story of Tessa, the Uni who wouldn’t let anything get in the way of her dreams.
by she_chose_love |  | Messi's Meowclops'It was the year 18 in Neopia and a small litter of new meowclops had wandered through the Haunted Woods toward the magical smell of Faerieland. There were four of them in the family and they had been separated from their mother for a few hours now.
by wildprincessxoxo |
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"My Wandering Lady – A Faerie Tale" by reiqua
A lone Whoot winged his way over Meridell. The countryside below was dark. In scholarly Brightvale it was not uncommon for oil lamps to burn late into the night. But Meridellians had no time for such frivolities. They lived off the land, and rose before the break of dawn. So in these hours of darkness, they slept.
But tonight was different. At just one point – in a clearing not far from Illusen's glade – a light glowed. The gypsy camp, predictably. Gypsies tended to upset the natural order of things wherever they went.
A large fire burned in the gypsy camp tonight. Around it sat a ring of Neopets. Not gypsies, these. No, they were Meridell locals who had come from all the lands 'round about. For tonight was a special night. Tonight, the Teller of Tales would tell the story of the Wandering Lady.
A couple of 'pets shivered in the cold night air. The Teller of Tales, an ancient Pteri, pulled her ragged shawl more tightly about her. Its dull brown blended in to the dull purple of her feathers.
Apart from the warm crackling of the fire, the night was silent. The motley circle of Neopets around the fire didn't speak a word. Sometimes they gazed mesmerised into the ever-changing flames. At other times, they stared at the peculiar Pteri at the head of the circle. In spite of her old age and her ragged clothes, she hadn't lost any of the beauty of her younger days.
Everyone silently awaited the moment when the Teller of Tales would begin her story. But she was in no rush. For a long while, the warm silence stretched.
At length, she opened her mouth and croaked “Let me tell you a story of long, long ago.”
Every eye in the circle turned to her, rapt.
Then, her voice gathering strength as she spoke, she began her narration.
Other Stories
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by misiaxcore |
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 From the Top: An Inteview with Top Kadoatie Feeder
Whether you have only thought about feeding a Kadoatie or are already and experienced feeder, I’m sure you are curious as to how some dedicated Neopians have managed to feed so many Kadoaties. I’m here today with infernodragon02 to talk about the experiences of one very committed and enthusiastic Kadoatie feeder. Also by infernodragon02
by malphd |
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 Cordilion's Big Adventure: Part Two
Cordie did not awake until small hands lifted him up and began to stroke him. The plushie Noil began to purr as the speckled Aisha read her book and allowed him to rest peacefully in her lap. So it went. Exhausted and starving, Cordie slept, waking only when a reader would scoop him up, settle him on their laps and pet him.
by 77thbigby |
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 Sakhmet Stories - The Witch And The Thief: Part Four
The sighs of melancholy were all that one could hear in the streets of Sakhmet. There were no children laughing in the sandpits, no market women squabbling over who saw the ripest ummagine first, no men laughing as they share a chilled glass of sand shake. Instead, the only sound that permeated through the thick silence were the soft sighs of the grey Neopians who roamed aimlessly through the streets
by iamnotaaron |
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