An Audience with the Queen

     Suddenly, she saw it. The bright blue door that indicated her target. She silently approached, her small Xweetok feet taking care not to disturb any pebbles or stones that could alert anyone to her position. She approached the window of the building. Inside, an array of gourmet delights gleamed back at her, more food than she could ever imagine. And at a higher price than she could ever imagine too.

     Sylvie’s stomach growled. She was hungry, and had been for a while. Inflation was running rampant across Neopia. She had been taking jobs at the employment agency, but the basic job payout was often less than what it cost her to complete the job, and only the richest Neopets could afford Brightvale job coupons. So, for the last few weeks, she had been secretly taking the occasional snack. She never took anything extravagant, mind you, she steered clear of any mushrooms or deluxe cakes, but she had helped herself to the odd cracker or sandwich here or there. A Xweetok’s got to do what a Xweetok’s got to do.

     A particular scent caught her attention. She recognised that smell – Cherry-tastic Faerie Pie, her favourite. Staying in the shadows, she slunk around the side of the building and gazed up at the windowsill, several stories above her. A perfectly baked Cherry-tastic Faerie Pie was cooling in the evening air, steam billowing gently like bedsheets on a warm day.

     While this pie might have been out of reach for most Neopians, Sylvie was a climber. She expertly moved from foothold to foothold, scrambling up the side of the Faerie Food Shop. She reached out, one paw aloft. Closer, just a little closer she edged towards it, her eyes trained firmly on its sugared crust.

     It was then that she was yanked back forcefully by two pairs of hands. A bag was placed over her head, and she was quickly whisked away, before she could even process what had happened.

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     The bag was removed as roughly as it was donned, and Sylvie’s eyes adjusted to her new surroundings. She was inside, that much was clear, but exactly where was hard to say. There weren’t many distinguishing details, but the iron bars on the window were enough to let her know that, wherever she was, she was in trouble. Her tummy rumbled again.

     Two Faerie Kougras suddenly appeared out of thin air before her.

     “How did you do that?” Sylvie asked, eyes wide. She would love to be able to appear like that, or, perhaps more usefully, disappear.

     “We need to be able to get around quickly, to catch criminals like you,” one replied, with disdain.

     “You are held here in the name of Queen Fyora, on the suspicion of having been responsible for a string of thefts at the Faerieland Food Shop,” said the other.

     “Queen Fyora!” Sylvie gasped.

     “You know her?” The first guard asked with scepticism.

     “No, but I know of her, obviously. Are you two her guards, then? Is this her prison?”

     “Very astute observation.”

     “Will I be meeting her?”

     “Absolutely not. Queen Fyora does not concern herself with petty criminals like you. She is much too busy. You will remain here until we have figured out what to do with you.”

     “No, I have to speak with her, I have important information for her!”

     The guards scoffed and turned their backs before they disappeared.

     Sylvie was alone once more, in the cold stone cell.

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     The bars on the window of the cell were approximately three inches apart. This was of interest to Sylvie who, being a Xweetok, was more than capable of passing through a gap of three inches. While this may seem like an oversight on the part of the cell designers, it’s highly likely they also factored in the forty-storey drop any escapee would immediately be met with upon squeezing through the bars.

     Sylvie, however, was not your average escapee. She was a climber.

     The wind ruffled her fur immediately as she gingerly took her first step out through the bars. She hadn’t realised how long she had been in the cell – the first rays of sunlight had started to peek out from behind the Faerie City skyline. She began to make her way down, then changed her mind. Fyora was here somewhere. She had to find Fyora, or nothing would ever change in Faerie City. She started to climb upwards instead.

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     As Sylvie neared the top of the tower, she heard familiar voices drifting out through an open window.

     “Who does she think she is anyway, taking food that doesn’t belong to her? We have rules for a reason. Let’s hope she learns her lesson from this.”

     The Kougra guards from earlier were inside. In an ideal world, Sylvie would now have gone a completely different route to the top of the tower but, unfortunately, there was no way for her to reach Fyora’s window without crawling directly past this window. She held her breath and took silent focused steps, moving quietly up, up, up trying to pass by without a sound.

     She was about halfway there when her tummy growled.

     The conversation inside the tower stopped abruptly.

     ‘What was that?” She heard one of the guards ask.

     A flurry of activity inside indicated they were rushing to investigate, and Sylvie began rushing to escape their grasp. She slipped. And tumbled. Down, down, down.

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     And then she stopped tumbling. Mid-air. This didn’t make any sense. She was holding onto something, but there was nothing, just empty sky before her and a long drop below. She felt around. Whatever it was, it extended quite a way in each direction, and felt like stone or brick. She found some footholds and shimmied slowly, investigating this mysterious invisible feature. Before long, she felt the cool smoothness of glass instead of stone.

     “Huh? A window?” She asked out loud.

     She pushed on the glass, and felt it swing inwards, hearing a slight creak as it did.

     The way Sylvie saw it, she had two choices: she could stay hovering precariously above Faerie City, freezing in the morning air, clinging to an invisible entity, or she could take her chances with this window and hope her situation improved. She chose the latter option.

     Sylvie tumbled through the invisible opening, and the interior of a room materialised around her. Rare artefacts adorned the walls as far as she could see. Paint brushes, Battledome items, ancient books and ornate Plushies glittered in the morning sunlight, which now filtered down through the sunroof.

     An invisible tower in Faerieland? Rare items? Sylvie already knew where she was, but if there was still any doubt in her mind, it was dispelled when she saw the figure, clad in pink and purple clothing, attending to the objects on the shelves.

     “Let’s see, that’s twelve Masks of Coltzan, and … one, two, three Shields of Faerieland,” Fyora said, taking notes as she busily conducted a stock take of her Hidden Tower.

     Sylvie’s tummy rumbled.

     Fyora turned, startled.

     “Oh! Hello there, little one,” she said, a hint of confusion in her voice.

     At that moment, the two faerie Kougras appeared with a flash behind Sylvie. They grabbed her.

     “You’re coming with us!” They snarled. “Trying to steal from the Hidden Tower? That’s a step too far!”

     “No, please, Fyora, I need to speak with you!” Sylvie cried urgently.

     “What in Neopia is the meaning of this?” Fyora questioned.

     “My Queen, this Xweetok has been stealing food from the Faerieland Food Shop for the last few months, and just recently absconded from her prison tower!” One of the guards explained.

     “Please Fyora, please,” Sylvie begged, her eyes brimming with tears.

     Fyora turned to her guards.

     “Leave us,” she said simply.

     “B-b-but, my Queen, she -” The guards tripped over their words, dumbfounded.

     “I’ve made myself clear, you two may go,” Fyora interrupted, “thank you for your diligence.”

     The two guards disappeared once more, scowling.

     Fyora turned to Sylvie.

     “So, little Xweetok, what would you like to say?”

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     Sylvie let the words tumble out of her. She explained how there was no food in the city, or at least no affordable food, and that Sylvie was not the only one who felt this way. She talked for what felt like minutes, then, having said all she had to say, she stopped and waited for a response.

     Fyora looked thoughtful.

     “I didn’t realise there was so much need in Faerie City,” she said, looking upset, “aren’t my faeries always out there, requesting donations from kind Neopians?”

     “They are, but they’re requesting the wrong items. We have plenty of toys, books, grooming items, clothes, collectable cards and magic items, what we need is food. None of your faeries are requesting food for Faerieland,” Sylvie explained.

     “What about the Soup Faerie, doesn’t she request smoothies?” Fyora asked.

     “Has anyone honestly ever felt full up after a smoothie? Smoothies don’t count,” Sylvie said, and Fyora nodded in agreement.

     “I’m so sorry, please believe that I had no idea this was going on. I think I can help make it right though,” Fyora said, with a sparkle in her eye.

     She walked back over to the shelves of her Tower, and picked up a winged, pink Paintbrush.

     “Yes… this will do just nicely,” she said with a smile.

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     A few days later, not far from Faerieland, a young Blumaroo was out on a walk, when he thought he heard the rumble of a stomach. This perplexed him, given that he’d just eaten, and was alone.

     With a flash, a Faerie Xweetok appeared out of thin air before him.

     “Hi there!” said Sylvie, the Food Faerie, “I’m so glad to find someone who can be of assistance! Please bring me a Cherry-tastic Faerie Pie as quickly as you can!”

     The Blumaroo rushed off to complete his quest. Sylvie smiled and disappeared with a flash.

     The End.