The Life of a Queen

     “Please, everybody!” Fyora yelled, “You must stop! What is going on here?”

     Not long ago Neopets from far and wide had gathered in Fyora’s Throne Room for a celebration in her honour. The room had been adorned with decorations in all manners of different shades of purple. Balloons had been scattered among the floor and streamers hung up on the wall while glittery garlands sparkled across the ceiling. The garlands danced in the sunlight streaming in through the large windows and gave a much-needed sparkle to the atmosphere. It was this exciting setting that Fyora was expecting to see when she walked into her Throne Room. Instead, she was greeted by the sight of all of her guests yelling and throwing things at each other. They all looked more upset than she had seen any Neopet in ages.

     Fyora’s eyes darted around the room in an effort to find somebody who was still in their right mind. She scanned the area but couldn’t find a single one. She knew something had to be done. Fyora raised her staff in the air and spread her arms.

     “Sleep,” she whispered softly. A gentle light shone from her staff over the party guests and one by one they began to find their way to the floor and close their eyes. The sudden calmness was a welcome change as Fyora surveyed the scene. The Throne Room was a complete disaster. Balloons had been popped, fanciful desert displays has been tipped over, and streamers lay limp on the ground. Fyora calmly stood among the guests and decided on a plan of action. She was uncertain if they would continue to be unruly if she woke them up so she erred on the side of caution and kept the spell intact for the time being. What was obvious to her, however, was that this was the result of some type of magic. She could feel the remnants of it lingering in the air.

     Fyora calmly stepped over the sleeping Neopets and made her way to her chambers. She closed the door behind her and took a moment to regain her composure. She glanced at her bed and for a brief moment and wondered what it would be like to simply crawl back in and go to sleep. There was never a dull moment in Neopia and as the Faerie Queen she was usually smack dab in the middle of it. She made her way to a desk that was placed near an open window that contained some of her personal belongings. She was hoping to find a magical tool of some sort that would help her nab the culprit.

     A bird had perched on the windowsill and was singing a sweet melody. Fyora felt herself begin to think of all the things she would rather be doing other than taking care of yet another problem. She began to resent the guests that had attended her party and thought of them as ungrateful. The bird’s melody began to swell and with it Fyora’s rage. As angry thoughts swirled in her mind she found herself unable to focus on anything else.

     “Will you give it a rest?!” Fyora yelled. She grabbed a nearby tome that was sitting on a shelf and threw it at the surprised Weewoo. The book made direct contact with the wall next to the Petpet as it let out one last warbled note and promptly fell to its side. Fyora’s anger dissipated just as promptly as it had appeared. The moment she snapped out of it she ran over to the poor Weewoo and picked it up in her hands.

     “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what came over me!” she apologized to the unconscious Weewoo. Other than having fainted due to shock the Petpet looked like it was going to be fine. Fyora let out a sigh of relief. She wondered what had come over her to react in that way. She was not a violent Faerie. Fyora walked over to the window that the Weewoo had entered from and looked outside. There were plenty of Weewoos circling the castle grounds and she had spotted a few after arriving at her celebrations as well. That was when it dawned on her. It was the singing of the Pepets that caused the sudden rise in anger in her guests as well as herself just now. Since the Weewoos were still circling the castle, most likely in search of her, it was why she could still feel the magic lingering after putting her guests to sleep earlier. It also explained why her emotions stabilized after the bird fainted from shock. But what anybody would benefit from causing such chaos at her annual celebration was still a mystery to Fyora.

     Fyora gently brought the Weewoo over to her desk and laid it down on its side. It wouldn’t be long now before it woke up and if she was going to work her spell in time she would have to act fast. Fyora pulled an archaic-looking map of Neopia out of the drawer and spread it across her desk. She took her staff and raised it above her head.

     “Identify magic,” she said as a small beam of purple light shone over the Weewoo as if to scan it. The light of the staff then changed into a concentrated beam as it darted around the map before landing directly on the Haunted Woods. Specifically, on Edna’s Tower. Fyora lowered her staff and wondered why Edna would do something so heinous. The Weewoo’s eyes fluttered open and it promptly jumped back to its feet. The moment it realized what was going on it quickly flew out the window to rejoin its friends. Fyora could see the rest of the Petpets retreating in the distance, the spell on them having most likely been lifted. Edna had probably caught on to Fyora’s detection spell and in a panic tried to undo her work before Fyora could find her. It was too late to though. Fyora had found her and promptly readied herself for a journey to Edna’s Tower to see what her old friend was really up to.

     - - - - - - - - - -

     Fyora approached Edna’s Tower and took in her surroundings. The barren trees that surrounded the tower swayed in the wind. Their groaning made the entire area feel incredibly eerie and unpredictable. The distant noises of the residents of the Haunted Woods and the rigged carnival games of the nearby fairground almost taunted her with their liveliness. Around here it felt cold and empty. Fyora stood in front of the large oaken door that led into Edna’s abode and knocked with her staff.

     “Hello?” Fyora called, “Edna? I know you’re in there. Open the door at once!” Fyora pressed her ear against the door and strained to hear any movement but could hear none. She gave the door a small push with her hand and to her surprise it creaked open. Fyora entered the dimly lit room and was immediately struck by the smell of mildew and various spell ingredients. The room was littered with magical items and spell books all haphazardly left open and in various degrees of disrepair. Fyora shuffled slowly around the place in an attempt to reach the stairs leading to the top floor where she assumed Edna would be hiding. A sudden clang scared Fyora so badly she nearly jumped out of her skin.

     “Protect!” Fyora yelled as she swung her staff and a ball of defensive light surrounded her. She turned around to face the source of the noise and saw a Miamouse run out from behind some shelves, scurrying across the floor, seemingly just as frightened as her.

     “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Fyora thought to herself. She had always figured this kind of stuff only happened in books. Fyora got to the winding stone stairs and began to climb. She had to be prepared for whatever was waiting for her at the top. As she neared the end she readied her staff.

     “Edna?” Fyora called out. Edna’s living quarters were in not much better shape than the entrance. Things were scattered everywhere and the place was in desperate need of a good cleaning. Edna’s cauldron bubbled in the center of the room, emitting a faint aura that resembled the one she felt at her castle. The evidence was clear. The spell was Edna’s doing. Fyora approached the cauldron when she heard a soft noise coming from one side of the room.

     “This better not be another Miamouse,” she thought to herself. As Fyora got closer to the noise it began to sound like somebody was sobbing. The sound seemed as if it was coming from behind a bookshelf. Fyora slowly turned her head around the shelf, anticipating that it might be a trap. To her surprise, there was Edna. She was sitting on the floor behind the shelf with her paws in her face and gently crying. Fyora couldn’t believe her eyes. The formidable witch of the Haunted Woods was before her in such a sad state. She wasn’t sure how to react so she instinctively reached out a hand to comfort the Zafara.

     “Don’t touch me!” Edna yelled as she swatted away Fyora’s hand.

     “What is going on here?” Fyora asked, “Please, let me help.”

     “What do you care?” Edna said sternly, “Shouldn’t you be living your lavish life at your party surrounded by all of your friends?”

     “Is that what this is all about?” Fyora asked, concerned. She had no idea that Edna felt this way. However, she could understand that something like this might be difficult for her to talk about. Fyora approached Edna and laid her staff on a table next to her. She sat down next to the saddened Zafara and crossed her legs. Fyora inhaled a big breath and let out a long deep sigh. She gently took one of the Zafara’s paws in her hand and laid her head on Edna’s shoulder.

     “What are you doing?” Edna asked, too stunned by Fyora’s actions to even react to her sudden kindness.

     “Sometimes,” Fyora began, “Magic isn’t the answer. Sometimes, people just need to know they’re appreciated.”

     “Such wise words,” Edna snickered.

     “Even if some Neopets will never change,” Fyora responded. Edna seemed to have calmed down. Fyora lifted her head and stood up, dusting off her dress in the process. She extended her hand to the Zafara but Edna stood on her own.

     “Don’t you have a party to attend?” Edna quipped.

     “You know, you are always welcome to come,” Fyora said, “You do not need an invite. You are a valued member of Neopia and you are loved.”

     “Blegh,” Edna said, “Get out of here before I turn you into a Mortog.” Edna was clearly in better spirits. Sometimes all you needed in order to feel better was a friend. Fyora simply wished Edna had approached her about the matter instead of casting some nasty spell to get her attention. She supposed it wouldn’t be Edna if she didn’t though. The Zafara was known for expressing herself through her magic.

     “Are you sure you don’t want to join us?” Fyora asked as she turned to leave.

     “Next year, perhaps,” Edna winked, “I’ll bring the treats.”

     Fyora smiled and made her way back down the winding stairs. Before she left she took one last look at the place.

     “Arrange,” Fyora whispered as she raised her staff. The contents of the tower began to automatically shift and organize themselves. Books returned to shelves, ingredients were placed back in their cupboards, and the furniture was placed neatly around the room. Fyora could hear Edna’s bewildered voice in the distance as she left the tower with a slight smirk on her face. She couldn’t let her get off that easily.

     - - - - - - - - - -

     Fyora arrived safely back in Faerieland and made her way back to her castle. It was time to wake up her guests after all. A little bit of magic and they should all be back to themselves, good as new, and none the wiser as to the events of the day. As Fyora approached the gate to her castle she overheard a Faerie in the distance speaking to her friend.

     “Isn’t that Fyora?” the Faerie whispered, “I thought today was her big day. Shouldn’t she be off celebrating? It must be nice to have all that free time.”

     Fyora was almost tempted to respond but she smiled to herself instead. She delicately opened the gates and gracefully proceeded to her Throne Room, the lyrical melody of a nearby Weewoo accompanying her on her way.

     The End.