Digging up the Past

     Markus and Rhoda exchanged surprised glances, their curiosity piqued.

     "I-I grabbed two backstage passes," Darla continued, her voice quivering. "For Lietta and me. But I never used them. I was so afraid of getting caught, I threw them away. I don’t even know what came over me - I just thought that nobody would notice, since more important things would be missing."

     Understanding dawned on the two colleagues as Darla's guilt-ridden confession unfolded. “This must have burdened you for years!” Rhoda marvelled, understanding, “and all this time, you’ve avoided your favourite band?”

     Darla nodded, “I even told my uncle I was sick so I wouldn’t have to work right next to the concert”. She sighed, a mix of solace and sadness etched on her face. “It’s a huge relief to finally tell someone. Will I get in trouble, after all this time?”

     “Well, you shouldn’t have done it,” Markus started, offering a reassuring smile to Darla. "But I think you’ve learned your lesson, Darla. You won't get in trouble with us. We just need to find out where the time capsule contents are."

     Rhoda added in solidarity, "You've been carrying this for too long, and we're grateful for your honesty. It took courage to admit that to us." She paused, contemplating for a moment before turning to the Chia. "Darla, have you ever heard Sweet Chia Sublime ?" she asked with a knowing smile.

     "Yes, it's one of the Sticks ‘N’ Stones’ biggest hits," Darla responded. “I couldn’t avoid that one, as much as I tried!” The Chia chuckled, wiping tears of respite from her eyes.

     Rhoda's smile widened. "That song was actually written about you. Sludge told us that it was inspired by your remarkable hair. You were their muse,” she revealed.

     Darla's expression transformed, a mixture of astonishment and delight spreading across her face. For a moment, she seemed to shed the weight of years as a spark of youthfulness returned to her eyes. “R-really?!” she wondered aloud in disbelief.

     “It’s true!” Markus swore.

     Darla's eyes glittered, and she laughed with fascination. "I never would have imagined," she murmured, a mix of incredulousness and joy in her voice. Suddenly, the Chia announced, "Then, I've got to join Lietta at the performance! There’s so much catching up to do!"

     Markus nodded, and the trio made their way back towards the entrance of the Catacombs, Darla chattering the whole way about her favourite Sticks ‘N’ Stones songs from 25 years ago, coming completely out of her shell.

     As the trio emerged into the starry night sky of Neopia Central, the flourishing Chia lingered for a moment. “Thank you,” she proclaimed, speaking up over the booming of the Sticks ‘N’ Stones that prevented a normal conversation even from their distance, “and I’m sorry I didn’t have the answers you need!”

     “That’s okay!” Rhoda responded in tone. “You gave us a clue about where to go next!” In the background, Axle Roo howled, attracting glances from the whole trio.

     “Stay safe, Darla!” Markus said, gesturing a farewell.

     “I will - good luck!” Darla ran off towards the source of the clamour, leaving the two Historical Society members standing alone with their dilemma once more.

     “What now?” Markus blurted.

     “Let’s go back to the Welcome Centre, so we can think!” Rhoda responded, leading the way.

     ***

     Back at the Welcome Centre archives, Rhoda yawned. “I can’t believe we never considered ghosts,” she mused aloud, more to herself than to Markus. “Probably the most notorious thieves in Neopia. And they’re always at the Money Tree.”

     Markus leaned bleary-eyed against a weathered bookshelf, crossing his arms thoughtfully. “It’s unusual. The ghosts normally target neopoints, not guitar picks and buried time capsules,” he reasoned.

     Rhoda nodded in agreement. “Exactly. This would be a different M.O. for them, if it’s true.”

     There was a long pause, full of weary silence. The day’s events had exhausted the two volunteers, and they longed for a successful conclusion to their quest. Eventually, Markus piped up, “Our best shot is to visit the Money Tree after the concert. With the crowd there, the ghosts will be away, but once the show wraps up, I’d bet they’ll return with all their stolen neopoints.”

     “How long do you think the concert will last?” Rhoda worried, peering at the slivers of bouncing spotlights through the window. “We need to talk to them, and the longer the Sticks ‘N’ Stones go on, the less time we have.”

     Markus sighed. “I know. We’ll have to hope that Grizley doesn’t make good on that promise of four encores.”

     Rhoda nodded and sat down by a bookshelf, bags under her eyes. Despite her best attempts to stay alert in the wannabe headquarters, it didn’t take long for the Kacheek's head to slowly dip, her chin meeting her chest in a nod of slumber. Markus, reclined on a stack of old tomes, quickly succumbed to a necessary reprieve as well.

     It was an uneasy rest for the two Historical Society members, with not a soft surface in sight in the archive room. This was perhaps a blessing, as Rhoda unconsciously jostled and knocked a precariously standing hardback free with a thunderous clatter, jolting the pair awake just before the crack of dawn.

     The companions snapped to attention, startled. Stiff and sore from the archive's unforgiving structures, they exchanged a groggy glance. Rhoda squinted through the window, taking in the peachy blue sky, and her eyes grew wide with the realisation that time was slipping away.

     “Markus, we have to go!” she croaked urgently.

     “Right behind you,” replied the Scorchio, his voice hoarse with fatigue but tinged with determination.

     With renewed resolve, Rhoda and Markus hastened their pace through the awakening urban scene. The early morning tranquillity enveloped them as they traversed through the Neopian Plaza and into Neopia Central, the city still sleeping after the previously vibrant day.

     Approaching the Money Tree, which appeared to be in a deep meditation, Rhoda and Markus stood in the quiet stillness with the chilling feeling that they were not alone. However, there was nobody in sight. A small heap of the usual donations, intermingled with Sticks ‘N’ Stones caps knocked clear by the throng, and uneaten snacks left by the festival goers, were all that seemingly accompanied them in the breaking dawn.

     Just as the duo neared the tree's base, a sudden, ephemeral apparition flickered into the corner of Rhoda’s vision. With a gasp, she squeaked “Did you see that?!”

     Markus’s head swivelled to see what she was talking about, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. He gulped.

     Suddenly, another small figure materialised for a brief moment a few feet away, dropping a small brown bag of Neopoints with a clink before vanishing as swiftly as it had appeared.

     “They’re here!” Rhoda whispered with alarm. She addressed the ghosts, calling out, “Hey! Ghosts, we know you’re here.” Silence. “Please, show yourselves. We need to talk to you urgently!” she pleaded into thin air.

     “BOO!” one of the spirits boomed as it emerged behind Markus without warning. The starry Scorchio yelled and jumped back in shock, causing the prankster to laugh with a wry glee.

     “That’s not funny!” Markus fumed, the usually level-headed one clenching his fists in embarrassment. “I could turn you into Ghost Toast, you know!”

     The ghost laughed even more shrilly before them as smoke flared from Markus’s nostrils.

     “Okay, funny joke,” Rhoda butted in, trying to defuse the situation. “But we’re actually here on serious business.” The spectre, which resembled a drab Quiggle, took upon a much more serious demeanour, and was evidently listening.

     “Yeah, we have evidence that you and your friends stole some important items from the Sticks ‘N’ Stones one night 25 years ago,” Markus chided, still peeved. “And from the time capsule that was buried under the Money Tree.”

     The lingering soul crossed its arms, its translucent form rippling. "We didn't take anything," it retorted, its raspy voice echoing faintly.

     Rhoda stepped forward, her tone earnest. "Someone saw you backstage at the Sticks ‘N’ Stones gig. Plus, we found traces of dirt inside the time capsule. You were the only ones who could've pulled off a heist like that,” she accused.

     “We didn't steal; we merely retrieved,” the ghostly figure clarified in a deadpan tone, its voice whooshing lightly through the quiet plaza.

     The pair were confused. “What do you mean?” questioned Markus, putting aside his anger for the most part.

     The ethereal being seemed to float closer, the faint shimmer of its form casting an eerie glow in the dim morning light. "The night the Neopians buried their memories, we felt the resonation of their wishes," it explained cryptically.

     Markus furrowed his brow. "Whose wishes?"

     "The wishes that drifted from the hearts of Neopians as they placed their offerings into the Wishing Well," the ghost continued, its voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "We heard their hopes, dreams, and heartfelt desires. So, we ventured forth to where the musicians had left their offerings."

     Rhoda's eyes widened in understanding. "You took those things and used them for granting wishes?"

     The apparition hummed solemnly. "We made use of their gifts to fulfil the wishes spoken in wanting tones," it confirmed. “In their hearts, their need was less than that of the yearning.”

     Markus scratched his head, trying to grasp the situation. "What about the time capsule?" he inquired.

     "We took only one item from within," the ghost admitted, a soft sadness lacing its words. "It was a letter, penned with love, a message from a Neopet to their future kin. As time passed… the recipient longed to hear from them again."

     “I see…” Rhoda was lost for words as her heart swelled with empathy. "And the rest of the contents?"

     The ghost hovered pensively. "Left at the bottom of the Wishing Well, stored for the possibility of fulfilling future wishes without the need to disturb the capsule's resting place again."

     Markus sighed, understanding dawning upon him. "So, you returned the capsule, thinking it would be enough on its own."

     The ghost nodded, a sorrowful echo lingering in its response. "We did not misunderstand the depth of its importance to you," it professed, “but with the passage of time, sometimes the heart heals, and sometimes… it aches. We would know.”

     The atmosphere around the gathering fell into a profound silence, heavy with the weight of the ghost's words.

     Eventually, Rhoda, with a gentle and sincere diplomacy, spoke up. "Excuse me. We at the Neopia Central Historical Society have a duty to preserve the history of our beloved city for its community. The items in our time capsule, as you explained, hold immense sentimental value. We propose that you and your friends who guard these cherished items, retrieve them from the Wishing Well, and in return, we pledge to keep them safe above ground, to be appreciated by all. You see, they are essential for an event later today, but beyond that, they will be well-kept and safeguarded for the future. If anyone ever requires these items to fulfill their wishes, you will be welcome to have them."

     Markus, sharing the sentiment, added his voice to Rhoda's plea. "She’s right! These items are very significant, and the stories connected with them deserve to be told after all this time. It's what the Neopians who put them in the time capsule wanted. Please, help us retrieve these pieces of history."

     The silence again persisted, punctuated only by the whisper of wind through the rails of the empty stage, and the distant stirrings of the Neopia Central’s inhabitants. The duo waited eagerly, their hopes held high, for a response from the being that floated before them.

     The ghost hovered in contemplation, its form fizzling in and out of view. “Your needs are great,” it stated, nodding, “and they align with ours. We will retrieve the items from the Wishing Well and entrust them to you."

     The two felt a surge of relief at the ghost's acceptance. "Thank you," Rhoda exhaled, her gratitude palpable. "We appreciate your understanding."

     With that, the ghost vanished. It reappeared several minutes later holding a large neopoint bag filled with all manner of items, which it dropped at the two friends’ feet. "Keep these safe," whispered the apparition, before once again fading away.

     Markus and Rhoda, overwhelmed to be reunited with the treasured items, both exhaled deeply. Rhoda wiped away a tear, her emotions running high as she clutched the bag tightly, harbouring a new appreciation for the contents.

     With the container of memories in hand, they made their way up onto the stage, voices of the city’s denizens gradually intensifying as the sun rose higher in the sky. Rhoda glanced at Markus, a hopeful spark in her eye.

     "Should we open it now?" she asked, her voice tinged with excitement.

     Markus paused, considering. "Nah, save the reveal for the stage. There’s nothing for you to be worried about now - the worst already happened!" he laughed.

     Rhoda chuckled too, a beaming smile on her face. "You're right. It'll be a welcome surprise for everyone, including us.” The Kacheek suddenly straightened up, elated. “Oh!” she exulted, “I’ve just had a great idea…”

     ***

     Rhoda stood before the microphone once more, a warm sunshine beaming down on her and the expectant faces below her. The bag retrieved by the ghosts was plopped on the wooden plinth up front, an enigmatic bundle that was waiting to be delved into. Stepping up to the mouthpiece, she began, her voice resonating through the hushed crowd.

     “Welcome again, dear friends of Neopia Central,” Rhoda's tone was slightly apologetic. “We hope you can forgive us for the mishap yesterday - but today, I promise, we have some remarkable discoveries to share. So many memories and stories, preserved for twenty-five years within the time capsule.”

     She paused, allowing the anticipation to simmer before continuing, “I don’t want to delay any further, so let’s begin!”

     Rhoda carefully unfolded the weathered parchment that topped the stack and began to read aloud. The paper crackled softly as she cleared her throat, her voice projected over the expectant crowd. “Wow!” She exclaimed, revering, “this first artefact is a letter from Eppa, the founder of the Neopia Central Historical Society, addressed to citizens of our beloved city."

     She glanced down at the fading ink on the aged paper and began to recite the letter:

     " Dear residents and visitors of Neopia Central,

     As I put pen to paper, I do so with the hope that my today has paved the way for a brighter tomorrow, and that, collectively, this time is looked back upon with fondness. The Neopia Central Historical Society has strived to preserve the essence of our community, encapsulating this moment in time, and the unity of our spirit, like a faerie in a bottle.

     Whether times are easy or trying within the community, I hope that each of you finds joy in exploring our collective heritage. Let not any difficulties of the present deter you from remembering the past, for it is the seed from which our future grows.

     With unwavering commitment,

     Eppa. "

     Rhoda had already begun to get emotional. Eyes glistening, she choked out, “Thank you, Eppa! That was a better start than I could have imagined - short but powerful!”

     The sappy Kacheek began to pull out objects one by one, most accompanied with a note or letter from its previous owner. She delicately held up a small rubber bone toy before the engaged onlookers, complete with tiny teeth marks. “Here, it reads, ‘I love you, Whiskers. You’re the best Angelpuss in Neopia - even if you do destroy all your toys - from Kimi’ !”

     The feel-good tribute from the young Neopet to their beloved friend elicited an “Aaw” from members of the audience as their hearts were warmed.

     Rhoda continued the show-and-tell in this manner, giving each item its time in the limelight. A colourful TCG album, complete with some of the earliest releases, drew fascination from the crowd; in particular, Markus, who swiftly joined Rhoda onstage, excitedly describing the old cards to newcomers and veteran players alike.

     Certain items elicited reactions from specific spectators. There was a thick stack of letters held by a binder clip, written by a class at Neoschool, all addressed to themselves or someone they knew in the future. As Rhoda was reading aloud the promises of one Kirella to herself to win the Beauty Contest, a Blue Usul hollered from the crowd, “That’s me!”

     Kirella didn’t seem to mind as all eyes turned to her, and she scurried to the stage eagerly when beckoned. Finishing off her younger self’s list of resolutions, she giggled, “I don’t even remember writing this!”

     This drew a chuckle from Rhoda. “So, did you ever make it?” she inquired curiously.

     “I did!” agreed the fashionable Usul jubilantly. “My mother made me my first contest dress. Of course, I didn’t win the very first time, but she inspired me to make many more dresses of my own, and a few years ago I won a gold trophy!” Kirella scanned the crowd and shouted inspirationally, “Thank you, Mom! And never give up on your dreams!”

     A round of applause ensued, joined in by Rhoda, who was moved as she returned to her position by the mouthpiece.

     Still more objects were pulled out of the bag, some requiring no explanation, such as a nonsensical fortune received by a city resident from the Island Mystic on their travels, and various letters from Neopia Central’s small businesses whose shopkeepers felt the need to pass on their greetings. There were also several gifts from the Neopian faeries, including a broken spoon from one of the first nights the Soup Kitchen was open, and an old Negg Point token from Kari. The Space Faerie, Mira, had departed the metallic shard of a spaceship, commemorating her first close encounter with the evil Dr. Sloth, one of the biggest events of the year.

     Eventually, Rhoda, her voice growing sore, reached the final piece. It was initially a mystery, as it lay rolled up in rubber bands in the bottom of the bag. Once carefully unfurled, it became clear that the printing press, once within the city but involved in the migration to Roo Island, had left the first edition of the Neopian Times. With its gaudy title and large blocks of white space, it was quite the contrast to the colourful and content-filled pages that Neopians had been perusing for over a decade. However, it was complete with a note.

     “We are so excited and proud about the arrival of the first all-encompassing Neopian news source, distributed right here in Neopia Central!” Rhoda imparted enthusiastically on behalf of the writer, or writers. “In 25 years’ time, may it act as a voice for communities all over Neopia.”

     The hopeful sentiment put smiles on the mass of onlookers’ faces as they chattered among themselves, no doubt reflecting on the success of the newspaper that they all knew and loved. Rhoda's gaze lingered on the last treasure, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Ah, this final piece connects beautifully with some exciting news I'd like to share."

     She carefully placed the Neopian Times' inaugural edition back into the bag, her expression animated with anticipation. "The Neopia Central Historical Society is delighted to share a new, exciting plan with all of you!" Her voice carried with enthusiasm, capturing the crowd's attention.

     "The Catacombs below the city will soon transform into a vibrant museum—Neopia Central's living history preserved to explore, learn, and cherish. And the best part is that it will be accessible to everyone, free of charge!" Her words brought forth a surprised and approving whoosh of voices, with applause from the crowd.

     "But as you know, there’s still some work to do," Rhoda continued, a twinkle in her eye. "In the spirit of preserving our present for the future, we have invited each and every one of you to contribute to our new time capsule." She gestured toward tables adorned with pens, papers, tags, and packing materials. "Please share with us your own stories, mementoes, and dreams for Neopia Central's next 25 years, to be collected here today. Our new time capsule will find its home for the next quarter of a century within the heart of our museum - where anyone can come to view it.”

     The crowd erupted in chatter, activity bubbling as individuals streamed to the tables, eager to contribute their own pieces to the future time capsule.

     Markus hopped up the metal stage staircase and kindly handed Rhoda a Bottle of Water. "Great job! I think we can officially call this a success," he praised, glancing at the busy crowd.

     Rhoda took a long sip, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Thanks! I feel like the contents really resonated with everyone," she remarked, her features bright with accomplishment.

     "You know, I had a few Neopets come up to me asking about joining the Historical Society and volunteering," Markus chirped, a note of pride in his voice.

     Rhoda beamed, sharing in his excitement. "That's fantastic news! Looks like we might have a few extra sets of hands in the coming years," she said hopefully.

     Markus’s expression turned thoughtful. "That reminds me, what have you written to put into the new time capsule?"

     The Kacheek's smile faltered momentarily as she looked thoughtful. "Honestly, I still need to write my piece. I figured inspiration would strike once we opened the old one," she admitted. "It’s difficult to speak to the future."

     Markus nodded reassuringly. "Don't worry, Rhoda. I'm sure you'll come up with something amazing. At least we can prepare the future with a bit more than some old paperwork this time!” he joked.

     The Scorchio's lighthearted remark drew a chuckle from Rhoda. She thought on the recent events, her smile growing wider. "You're right," she agreed. "This time, we’ll make a full inventory, and leave some instructions regarding the ghosts."

     As Markus bid farewell, heading off to coordinate the collection of items from Neopia Central’s citizens, Rhoda watched him go with a grateful nod. She shifted gears, stepping down from the stage and weaving her way through the dispersing crowd.

     Retrieving a pen and paper, she found a quiet nook under the sprawling branches of the Money Tree. The dappled sunlight cast playful shadows on the paper as Rhoda settled in, the gentle rustle of leaves and excited chitchat of the lingering Neopians offering a comforting background melody.

     Taking a moment to gather her thoughts, Rhoda thought over the weekend's events. Putting pen to paper, she wrote,

      Honoured future Neopians,

     Today marks a significant moment for the Neopia Central Historical Society. As I write these words, surrounded by the vibrant hum of our community, I can't help but feel a surge of hope for what's to come.

     Our city has always been a treasure trove of stories, a kaleidoscope of dreams, and a model for remaining in tune with the past as Neopia changes around us. As an example, the ancient Catacombs that you stand in changed in their purpose, but were never forgotten, as they could have been.

     Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the jumble of talking Neopians. It was Darla, side by side with Lietta, both adorned in Sticks 'N' Stones gear. Glancing up from her position, Rhoda could just about make out the two writing on a piece of paper, sharing in the joy of the moment. With a smile, she continued writing,

      I want to share with you a lesson learned. Inside all of us are shards of the past, but we sometimes hold on too tightly to the memories we have buried. I've witnessed the beauty in releasing what tethers you, embracing the present while honouring the remnants of yesterday.

     So, to the future generation who unearths this time capsule, I implore you: let the items inside inspire you, but don't let your own past shackle your spirit. Remember to embrace the unknown, weave new memories, and write your own chapter in the ever-evolving tale of Neopia Central.

     With confidence for the next era,

     Rhoda

     The End.