The Great Conspiracy
Also by humblely
"She's annoying me again, Advisor Wessle!"
An irritated brown Acara rushed into the room.
Hoping not to be brought into whatever issues the Acara had, he slouched further
on his chair. Advisor Wessle failed to stifle a yawn. He cringed, knowing that
the Acara had heard it.
"Wessle! I know you're in here. You're behind
this; aren't you? Well, I'll have you know that I don't appreciate it. Wessle,
fix this mess!" The elder Acara grabbed the collar of the advisor's white Lost
Desert shirt. At the same time a Lost Desert painted Aisha pranced in. Advisor
"Barca, I - " The Kyrii found himself uncomfortably
jerked from his comfortable seat. He felt himself start to sweat a little as
he looked into his compatriot's angry glare. "What's wrong? You can't just rip
your fellow councilors from their sanctuaries! State your purpose!"
Senator Barca released her grip. "Vyssa is the
problem, that's what! Her great empress-ness is at it again!"
Wessle scratched his thick mane and adjusted
himself to face the Acara. "Hmm... yes, she's annoying you again?"
"And for what?" She answered her own question.
"She's been asking me to help her pick out her outfit again before she inspects
that new pyramid they're building!"
"Oh there you are, Senator Barca, Advisor Wessle!
Oh this is great…brilliant. You can help me too," chirped Empress Vyssa with
a large grin. Senator Barca simply gave the Kyrii a look. The Kyrii groaned
again and rubbed his face with a paw.
"Your majesty, I thought I told you that I'm
color-blind, so I can't help you," muttered Advisor Wessle. The Acara chuckled.
"I told her majesty that you are very fashionable,
despite your 'disabilities.'" The Kyrii gave Senator Barca a glare.
"Exactly. I require your assistance immediately,"
stated the Usul as she grabbed both paws towards the hallway. "I need to look
good. You both are going to help me, like you helped my father." At the same
time, the members of the council coughed loudly. Vyssa ignored them and continued
to drag them towards her dressing room.
"Not again," grumbled Wessle. He leaned towards
the brown Acara and whispered, "Honestly, I know she's the big boss gal, but
that doesn't mean we get to be her lackeys all the time!"
"'Lackey' is an understatement," said Barca.
Vyssa stopped and turned to the two of them.
"What have you been murmuring about behind my back?"
"The Sand Banana exports!" was the first excuse
that popped into Senator Barca's head. But soon she and the Kyrii found themselves
being shoved into the Usul's regal bedroom.
An hour later...
"Your majesty, I told you that the dress looks
very good on you," said the Acara. "Even Advisor Wessle agrees with me." She
nudged the brown Kyrii who was snoring.
"Wh - Oh, yeah. I agree. Whatever Senator Barca
said," piped up the Kyrii with tired eyes. The Usul whirled around in a pink
"Good isn't good enough. I have to look absolutely
MARVELOUS!" shrieked the Empress which caused a group of worried soldiers to
come in to see what the commotion was about.
* * *
"Senator Barca, we have to do something about
Empress Vyssa. She's too... spoiled. Augh. I can NOT spend another day with her.
We're not her wardrobe designers. We're her council members. I'm surprised she
hasn't gotten to the others. Why?"
"Not gotten to the others? Why, dear, the others
have feigned sickness the past month, ever since she became Empress of the Lost
Advisor Wessle scratched his head. "You know
what we need? We need to teach her a lesson, that she can't just boss us around
unless she really needs to."
"Okay then, how?" asked the Acara.
The Kyrii stifled a laugh. "Senator, I have just
the plan. Hopefully after this, the empress will think twice before dragging
us from important business to bombard us with questions about her outfits!"
He grabbed Senator Barca and began whispering
into her ear. A slow smile spread across their faces as they stopped talking,
and they had to try their best to keep straight faces as a servant Kacheek walked
past, polishing a nearby vase.
* * *
A scream pierced the hallways of the Lost Desert
Palace. Soldiers and servants rushed into the room where the scream had come
from. When they had entered the room, they saw the figure of a Usul lying limply
on her canopy.
"Someone's murdered her!"
"Quick, get the doctor!"
The Usul rolled over. The soldiers and the servants
"You idiots! I'm perfectly fine," chided Vyssa
with tears streaming down her face. "It's just that I got this letter from the
'Very Secret Pretty Princess Convention'!"
Unknown to the Usul, two figures who were isolated
from the crowd were watching carefully.
Senator Barca clapped her paw sharply over Wessle's
mouth before he could burst out laughing. "If she finds out... "
The Kyrii nodded as they watched Vyssa light
up and begin bouncing about excitedly like a toddler. The two heard her say,
"I've got to find something to wear that'll make me look absolutely pretty!"
This time, even the Acara couldn't stifle her
giggles. She dragged her comrade to a farther spot and there they started to
laugh their heads off.
"Secret... Pretty Princess... " choked Wessle,
glad that nobody was holding his mouth shut.
"That's rich!" said Barca, rolling about on the
floor. "I can't believe it!"
"So... should we follow her and see what happens?"
asked the Kyrii advisor.
The brown Acara stared at him. "What, are you
crazy? No wait... on second thought, I don't want to miss a single minute of
this! Let's go!"
"What do we tell the servants, in case someone
comes looking for us?"
"Tell them we're on an important assignment,
that's what! We'll leave notes. Then that's it. Now come ON! I want to see the
look on her face when she finds out... "
* * *
"I think I should've worn a different robe. This
one easily gets ripped. And since the Haunted Woods is full of those cliché
thorny vines... "
"Shush, Barca. We must not be seen!"
The two conspirators were closely tailing Vyssa
as she looked for the location pinpointed on her forged invite, which was actually
also made up by Senator Barca and Advisor Wessle. Unfortunately, staying hidden
in the Haunted Woods had its disadvantages, and it was hard to concentrate when
a branch was literally pulling your leg.
The desert Usul pranced ahead unaware of any
schemes. She hummed a little tune, and her tail happily wagged back and forth.
All around her, the trees swayed with their branches,
causing the illusions of monsters. This would normally scare Vyssa who was hated
to be out late in the darkness, but she was too caught up in her excitement.
Soon glowing red eyes appeared among the bushes.
Vyssa stopped walking. She looked around, and
then looked down at a card that she held with one of her paws.
"Hmm... the convention is supposed to be right
around here. No one's here, though... ah ha. There's a door right there! My
fan club MUST be in there!" Vyssa squealed. She marched proudly towards a broken
down house which seemed to be infested with bugs.
"Eww," whispered Barca to Wessle. "Now, if that
house was in the Lost Desert, it would have been disposed of immediately."
"Hello?" The Usul knocked on the door. The house
came crumbling down like a deck of TCG cards. "Oopsies," said Vyssa with an
unapologetic smile. She quickly skipped to the next nearest house. This time,
a green Zafara was stirring a large black cauldron of green goo.
"She is really ugly. I'm glad that the Lost Desert
doesn't have weird people like her," commented Wessle, pulling a tree branch
off of his shoulder.
"Hello my pretty," cackled Edna, her eyes glittering
mischievously. "How would the pretty Usul like to be cooked... ?" Edna blurted
"I mean, would you like to do a quest for little
"Cut the dung, old lady. I know there is a convention
for people like me. Where's my fan club?" demanded Vyssa. "If you don't tell
me, I'll find it myself." With that, the Usul stomped off.
She walked off into the dank surroundings, not
minding the fact that the hem of her robes were becoming caked with dirt, and
some parts of her outfit were ripped by the unmindful twigs and thorns. The
Usul stopped in the middle of a large cluster of gnarled trees and began to
talk to herself.
"If I were a convention for pretty princesses... where
would I be? I think it's just about... over there!"
Vyssa pranced off to a random direction, with
Barca and Wessle close behind, but not too close to be seen.
"Wait... I bet it's here - OUCH!"
The Acara and Kyrii looked on as Vyssa fell into
a small dirty, muddy pit, desperately choking with laughter. Now Wessle couldn't
take it anymore, and he exploded with immeasurable mirth, rolling about on the
"My outfit! I even picked it for the convention,
and…wait, if that meeting thing was here, I would've seen it by now! But... but... "
Her ears picked up the sound of giggling, and
she turned around to see Barca pulling Advisor Wessle back to their hiding place
behind a bush.
"Wait a minute. What are you two doing here?"
The Acara froze, letting go of Wessle. "Uh... we
were invited too?"
"Fat chance!" said Vyssa, standing up and walking
toward them, brushing the excess dust off her front. "If you were invited, then
you would have been jumping about like me awhile ago!"
Senator Barca shrugged, forming an alibi quickly.
"I do NOT go around jumping like a sugar-crazed brat when I get something like
that," she answered calmly.
The Usul raised one penciled eyebrow. "Hold on
a second... " She glanced at the invite she still held. "This looks like your
The older Acara glanced nervously at Wessle.
This was one question she didn't anticipate. Vyssa glared at the both of them.
"Of course it looks like Barca's handwriting.
The horrible, horrible culprit was forging her handwriting. This villain must
be caught immediately!" exclaimed Wessle dramatically, with a sudden inspiration.
Vyssa and Barca eyed him suspiciously.
"Culprit?" Vyssa's eyebrow seemed to arch even
higher. The Kyrii swallowed hard.
"Oh yes, we didn't realize that the plot would
go so far. We came to warn you. There was a kidnapping plot…."
"Oh really?" The Usul directed her question towards
the Acara. Barca gave her usual disapproving frown.
"Oh yes. Wessle, would you care to go into depth?"
"Uh, sure. Well, there was someone who thought
you were… annoying. An annoying ruler, to be exact. And so, that uh, someone
plotted with another felon. We couldn't tell you about it because, uh…" Wessle
looked at Barca. Barca nodded.
"But you are a great Empress. You are so beautiful,
sweet, and uh, wise," Barca coughed and gave the Kyrii a nudge.
"And the conspirators um… forged a letter in
Barca's handwriting to send you here. Thank Fyora that we've come just in time,
before they put the kidnapping part into play!" yelled Wessle once again.
"No questions?" Barca asked quickly. "Good, now
let's leave this dreadful place at once, your Highness." She clasped the Empress's
hand and tried to drag her away.
"B-but… wait, why are we going back to the palace,
if there are Neopians plotting against me?" demanded Vyssa with arms crossed.
"Because…" Wessle looked nervously at Barca.
"Stop lying! I'm onto you! Both of you!" The
Usul suddenly whirled around to give them a leer. Her face looked very stern.
"We can expla -"
"Hush, hush. So, the convention is actually a
set up for my SURPRISE birthday party!" Vyssa jumped with joy.
Barca nudged Wessle before he could say anything
else, and spoke for him. "Uh... sure, we'll go with that."