Birthday Truce

     ~x~

     I had been keeping track of safety requests from concerned Neopians when Danner popped his head into my door. The blue Wocky looked stuffed up, his eyes puffy and red, with a sort of dryness under his nose that came with too much tissue rubbing. Unlike his usual knightly attire, he wore a nightgown.

     Before I could say anything, he sneezed. Thankfully, he had the common decency to turn away so that only a bit of goop ended up on my mane. I shuddered, quick to rub at the spot with a cloth that I then chucked into the laundry pile.

     “Sorry Serian…” he started, snorting back his snot. He wiped his hand across his forehead, which, at this point, I noticed was sweating. “Can you take over my patrol today? I’m—ACHOO!” I slid my chair back. Thank Darigan it went into his shoulder this time.

     “Sick? Yes.” I stood up and took two big steps back. “I can tell.”

     “Yeah…” He shivered then, which, had he been outside might have made sense, but my office was toasty warm. “So can you—”

     “Yes,” please get out of my office before you get me ill, I mentally added. To my credit, these days I only blurted out a quarter of the impulsive things that came to my mind. I called it a win. “Where are your reports?”

     He reached into a pocket of his nightgown—with the hand he just wiped his forehead with—and removed a folded form. I couldn’t help but grimace as I took it before wishing him a good rest. He stumbled out the door and for a moment, I debated walking him back… but thought better of it. I’m not that charitable, I thought, except maybe for Lisha, Jeran, Rohane, that little girl from the park, that old woman from the other day who needed help carrying groceries, the lost grad student who keeps running into trouble…. But they’re the exceptions.

     Anyway. Not everyone is happy when they see a tall, scary-looking (so I’m told) Darigan Eyrie at their door. More than once I’ve had it slammed on my face, or better yet, a dumbfounded stare as if I was a walking, talking Petpet. They often change their tune if Jeran is with me. Then it’s all smiles, bows, and strained politeness.

     I unfolded the report and smoothed it out on the table. There was a sketch of the requester and a short blurb about their needs. It looked like a Darigani merchant—there had been an uptick of them in the past few months—was reporting the theft. Should be easy enough to investigate… and I bet she’ll be surprised when she sees someone like me there. Well, perhaps not. There were enough whispers around the Citadel streets that every trip there had me feeling watched. Gawked at, even. And I got the feeling it wasn’t just my icy blue eyes this time. Some Darigani were wary of the new developments, wary of the idea of peace when it had been fleeting for so long. And who could blame them, really? Here I was, a former Kass General well known for treating his enlisted troops terribly, now working with our former enemy to secure a long-lasting truce and a partnership with the academics of Brightvale. It all seemed farfetched, I know. Sometimes, even I had trouble believing that Eyrie in the mirror was me.

     Sighing, I donned my tri-kingdom patrol uniform before heading out into the streets. There was a hurried hustle-and-bustle as Neopians representing all three nations sold the last of their fall harvest before canning, smoking, or salting the winter stores. It didn’t take long to find this Miranda Grocer’s store; not many stands in the square used pointed black and purple banners or tents with a spike on every end. Her Darigan Kougra eyes widened when she saw me, but when I caught her, she curtsied.

     “I’m honoured, General,” she began. There was a slight shake in her voice.

     “Serian. Just call me Serian.” It was hard not to feel like an echo, repeating this to almost every Neopian who knew me before. Even more tiring was those who still insisted on calling me by my title despite this.

     “S-s-sorry about that. Um…” She turned towards her products, most of which were dried fruits, vegetables, and canned Spiked Dariberry with some Darigan delicacies. She reached under the table and showed me a half-eaten string of berries, a fragment of fresh spiked berry, and an empty tray of smoked spiked meat. “This keeps happening, almost every day in fact. I think there’s a thief who keeps nicking my goods.”

     I inspected the goods and saw… tooth marks? Maybe from a mischievous child or a hungry urchin… But either way, such a thing was not good for morale.

     “I will add a guard to this station starting tomorrow.” I tapped my chin, noticing a small trail of spiked meat chunks. “And in the meantime, I’m going to do some investigating of my own.”

     Finally, there was a slight smile on her face. “You would do that, General? Er, I mean, um—”

     “Of course.” Spires above did I hope the frustration was not evident on my face. “It’s my duty.”

     Miranda took a single dried package of jerky and handed it to me. I put it away. “For your trouble, Gen—Serian.”

     “You don’t—” I sighed, not wanting to seem ungrateful, even if it seemed like it was given out of fear. “Thank you, Miranda.”

     “Y-you’re welcome, Sir.”

     The trail was slow in places, but it led towards one of the capital city’s many alleyways. In the corner of my eye, I spotted a garbage pile. Nothing too out of the ordinary until… I saw it move. First, its ears, then its snout. It looked like sentient trash, so caked in filth that almost none of its body could be seen beneath.

     I took one step forward; it took one step back. Although it was impossible to know what it was… I could tell it was shaking.

     Then it hit me. This beast, whatever it was… needed food. It reminded me of a time years back when I was in a similar bind, lost and lonely. Feeling as though I would never find a place I called home.

     I removed the jerky from my pack and held it out forward. “Food?” I called.

     It took a while before the creature inched forward. Froze. Two beady eyes stared back at me in fear.

     I placed it on the ground in front of me.

     “I’ll step away, then it’s yours.”

     I did as I promised and the creature seemed to notice. It took a furtive step, sniffed the jerky and took a nibble. I could see the tattered remains of a robe around its neck. It almost looked like… A Meridell shield.

     “A Whinny?” The thought occurred to me. But weren’t they one of the favoured Petpets in the shire? Practically a mascot of knighthood?

     After its initial caution, the Petpet had taken larger and larger bites while its dirty tail had the slightest wag.

     “Would you like some more?”

     The Whinny stopped mid-chew and gazed upon me with its big, sad eyes.

     “I could get you all the food that you need in the castle.” For a moment, I wondered why I felt this tug at my heartstrings over a Petpet that I had never met… over some poor, haggard creature. But just seeing its struggle, seeing it claw for survival against insurmountable odds… it made me feel something that I can’t explain. I wanted… to protect it. “But you need to come back with me.”

     Both of its ears shot back. A quivering neigh released from its mouth. I offered my curled finger, being careful to hide my talon. At first, it snorted and stomped its hoof, but then, the longer I stayed still, the closer it came. Closer, ever closer, until its dirty snout brushed against my hand.

     “Truce?”

     The Whinny made a curious noise. Although I could not speak Petpet language, I could have sworn it agreed with me. It pressed into my hand as if clinging to the idea of love. A fleeting part of me wondered where it had been before this, but I dashed such thoughts. That hardly mattered now. All there was left to do was to inform Miranda of her furry thief, pay for the damages myself, and call it a closed case.

     “Let this,” I said, gently lifting it into my arms and cradling it beside me, “be the first day of your new life.”

     ~x~

     A cupcake the size of a watermelon sat on a copper plate. In the centre was a single, sparkling candle.

     “Truce! I have a surprise for you.”

     Galloping hoofbeats clacked against the cobbled floor as the Whinny raced from her Petpet bed in the bedroom to the kitchen. As soon as she spotted the cake, she bounded from the floor to a chair, and finally to the table before dunking her face in full front. Petpet-friendly frosting spilt in all directions as she neighed with joy. This Whinny with shining fur, a healthy mane, and an overcoat with the Tri-National Summit insignia sown over her chest… covered in cake.

     I remember how I felt when Lisha offered me a fresh start, a brand-new opportunity outside of the world I knew. It was only fair that I extended the same to my Petpet… and to her Petpetpet, a Breebly with whom she seemed unusually attached.

     I scratched the side of her left ear and she leant into my hand and nestled in before shutting her eyes.

     “Happy first birthday, Truce.”

     The End.