Enter the Snowflake's lair... Circulation: 144,656,803 Issue: 304 | 10th day of Hiding, Y9
Home | Archives Articles | Editorial | Short Stories | Comics | New Series | Continued Series
 

Fyora's Statue


by party_hobbit

--------

Isha leaned back to survey her finished work with a proud, albeit tired, smile. It had been a long few months, but it was all worth it for this: the perfect statue.

     As Neopia’s finest sculptor she made a point of putting every ounce of heart and soul she possessed into each piece of work she set her mind to, and this was no exception. The statue towered above her, a solid, immortal tribute to the great Queen Fyora. Isha examined again the flawless, regally proud beauty that was the statue’s defining feature; the unblemished creaminess of her marble face; the long, sweeping folds of her gown, and the grace and power of her slender arms, grasping her wand.

     It was truly a masterpiece. Isha’s experienced eye knew at once that she had never created anything to rival the stunning figure before her, or likely ever would again.

     “I’ve always dreamed of going out with a bang,” said Isha to herself. “This is a bang to silence all others.” She wasn’t old, by any means, but the hefty sums paid to her for pieces such as these amounted to a tidy little fortune – quite enough to satisfy a faerie Ixi like Isha. This last imbursement would be the icing on the cake – thick icing, as it were. Not to mention the legacy she would leave behind, to linger long after she had faded into the oblivion of a quiet life somewhere in Meridell.

     Isha shook her head against the starry dreams that tumbled around through her mind. Time for imagination later – now she should get some sleep for the morrow. She had a big day ahead of her – screaming crowds, mountains of food, and a position of honour at Queen Fyora’s table, overlooking the entirety of what would be the biggest Faerie Day Celebration in Neopia’s history. Oh, it would be an unequivocally good day, and Isha indulged in a rare laugh of excitement as she covered up the stature with a spotless white sheet.

     Turning off the studio lights, Isha headed home to bed.

***

     The next morning, as the sun was just touching the outermost fringes of the sky, Isha hurried down to her art room to give her work a final glimpse before it went on show. In addition to the statue, she had been commissioned to create smaller figurines of various prominent representatives from the different Neopian worlds as gifts for the Queen to hand out.

     Flicking on the chandeliers and heading towards the statue room, Isha thought idly on the fact that she was probably the only sculptor in Neopia who could afford such lighting in her studio, let alone her sumptuous dwellings. A smile of satisfaction and anticipation smeared itself across her face, as it always did when she came to see her work.

     Rounding the corner, Isha paused momentarily, wondering if she had somehow gotten the wrong room. Her eyes widened as the truth dawned on her face, and the normally able-bodied Ixi sagged against a pillar, her mouth open in horror.

     The room was empty!

     The sheet still lay there, dirtied and crumpled, in a pathetic pile where Fyora’s Statue had stood only the night before. The surrounding tables were bare; no hint of the impressive figurines that had stood on them remained.

     Isha closed her eyes. When she opened them hopefully again, the situation was just as bleak.

     Turning, stumbling crazily, Isha raced out of the huge doors and tore down the empty, silent street.

     “HORIC!” she found herself screaming.

     Horic, her dearest friend, was a Plushie Draik who lived in the nearby country town. He was wise, one of those neopets who adored reading, and Isha knew she could count on him. She had to.

     Horic smiled charmingly as Isha entered his home. “Isha, you look decidedly more lovely every time I see you,” he said, rising from his table.

     “Silence your prattling mouth for a second, Horic. This is an emergency. Get me something to drink; I ran all the way here.” Isha fell heavily onto the plush red carpet as Horic scuttled around, grabbing bowls and water. He set one before her, and watched concernedly as she lapped it up.

     “Isha, are you alright? You look terrible. What’s wrong?”

     Isha glared at him. “I thought you were describing me as a radiant beauty seconds ago.”

     “Hush. What on earth is the matter?”

     “It’s the statue, Horic. It’s been taken!”

     Horic rocked back on his haunches and eyed the Ixi before him, stunned.

     “Isha, are you in earnest? When? Who? And... how? That statue’s as tall as a house.”

     “Horic, if I had any answers at all I wouldn’t have come here. I need your help. You’re the best detective in Brightvale.”

     Horic smiled proudly.

     “Modesty’s a virtue, Horic; calm down. Now. We haven’t any time to lose. The festivities begin in an hour, and the unveiling of the statue is supposed to happen at midnight.”

     “Why don’t you just tell Fyora you lost her statue?” asked Horic.

     “Tell her? Horic, are you crazy?” exclaimed Isha. She eyed her friend critically. “Oh, wait. This is YOU we’re talking about. Stupid question.”

     Horic rolled his eyes. “Alright, I get it. Utmost secrecy and all that. Come on, there’s not a moment to waste.”

     To any passersby, the duo would have looked like any other Ixi and Draik ambling around before the excitement of the day began. The second they were hidden from view, however, the two broke into a scorching run for the studio.

     “Stripped bare,” said Horic mournfully as he assessed the situation with the most professional air he could muster. “These thieves knew their work.”

     “I don’t even have any leads!” exclaimed Isha, falling to the floor. “We took care of that rival sculpting company months ago. I had no idea anyone else had a problem with me since.”

     Horic paused suddenly, and bending down he gingerly lifted the heavy white sheet. “Isha, look!” he gasped, ripping out his eyeglasses and bending lower. “Unbelievable!”

     Isha hurried to his side. “What? I see nothing...oh, my!” The Ixi’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Is that...”

     “It is. By Hagan, it’s perfect!”

     Before them lay an absolutely perfect miniature of Fyora’s statue, so small it rested perfectly into Horic’s paw.

     “Hold on a moment. I wonder...” Horic sprang to the side tables, staring at them intently through his eyepieces. “It’s just like I thought. Isha, this is going to sound crazy... but somebody... somehow... has shrunk your statues!” Horic waited.

     “Isha? Oh, Isha, don’t go and FAINT. Bleh. Here we go again.”

     Once Horic had revived Isha with a whiff of ‘Essence of Kau”, they sat down to discuss their options and examine the severely shortened figurines.

     “They’re undamaged, as far as features go. The size, however...” Horic paused.

     “This is terrible!” exploded Isha. “The queen can’t be seen giving out these wretched little things to the representatives. It’ll start a war. And all of Neopia has been waiting the year long to see Fyora’s statue set in its place in Faerieland. Who could have done this?”

     Horic’s face was criss-crossed with lines of thought. “Hang on,” he said, breaking the silence, and turned back to the sheet that had been kicked aside in their astonishment.

     “Look at this,” Horic said, holding up the sheet and pointing at a prominent dirty patch.

     “Why, it’s a pawprint!” cried Isha.

     “Exactly. And it’s one that I’d know anywhere. Isha, prepare yourself. We’ve got a long way to travel.”

     After a terribly bumpy flight, Horic set Isha down on a windy plateau and shook out his wings. Isha, shivering, ducked behind a pile of rocks to hide from the biting winds.

     “Where do we go from here?” she shrieked over the elements.

     “See that door at the end? It’s a secret passage, known only to a few. We should find him in there.”

     “Where does this secret passage lead? And who exactly are we trying to find?” demanded Isha.

     “It’s a place called the Secret Laboratory. Have you heard of the mad scientist?”

     When they had finally gathered their courage to brave the winds that buffeted the highlands, the two stood panting at the entrance, sheltered slightly by the stony doorway. It was a simple, nondescript stone structure, with one tiny cleft for a handhold.

     “No keyholes to be seen, but I feel if we both push together, it should burst open,” panted Horic.

     On the count of three they both threw themselves wholeheartedly at the door. As their shoulders smashed against it, to their shock it flew open easily, sending them sprawling across the floor inside.

     “Fantastic work, Horic,” hissed Isha, groaning as she crawled upright.

     “Thank you. Now, where to from here?”

     “You mean you don’t know?” exclaimed Isha in horror.

     “Stunningly, I can’t know everything,” replied Horic with a scowl.

     “You sure act like you do,” muttered Isha. She looked around. “There’s a passageway. We’ll go down there.”

     She took off toward it as fast as her aching side would allow.

     “Isha, hang on!” cried Horic, racing after her too late.

     Quite suddenly, Isha realised she wasn’t running on solid stone – instead, sheer, slippery metal. As she was registering this rather important fact, the path became drastically steeper, and she found her feet flailing awkwardly in front of her face.

     “How odd!” she thought.

     “ISHA!” screeched Horic.

     By this time they were both flying with terrifying speed through the dark, narrow tunnel, too small even for Horic to spread his wings.

     “Horic!” Isha screamed back. “There’s a light ahead!”

     “This is REALLY going to hurt,” groaned Horic, clenching his teeth, and with that they shot out of the tunnel like a pair of cannonballs; bounced, and rolled for a couple of moments.

     “Should we count our bruises now, or later when we can see them fully?” queried Horic.

     Isha kicked feebly at the Draik and, for the second time that day, hauled herself up.

     “I wonder where we are now?”

     “I don’t quite know, but lower your voice. We’re deep in the scientist’s lair. Keep to the shadows.”

     They walked for quite a way without seeing anything, until Horic held a finger to his lips and paused.

     “Hear that?” he whispered. “Maniacal laughter.”

     “Creepy. Is it him?”

     “Doubtless. It’s coming from this passageway...” said Horic, disappearing to the side.

     “Oh, not again,” moaned Isha. But to her surprise she found she was walking on solid stone steps, which they followed with no further mishaps.

     The cackling was getting louder by now, and at the end of the tunnel Horic stopped and motioned for Isha to do the same. Slowly, they peered around the corner.

     “Oh, for the love of Neopia. The Lab Ray!” breathed Horic.

     Terror sprang into their hearts, and Isha felt herself beginning to shake.

     “Look!” whispered Horic, clutching at her. “There he is!”

     Indeed, as they spoke the notorious Scorchio loped into the room, his crazed eyes roving his beloved machine. Suddenly he stopped and threw his jacket onto the floor.

     “What’s he doing?” whispered Isha, as the scientist ran, giggling, to the huge red button on the machine’s side. Horic and Isha clapped their hands over their ears as the madman slammed the button. There was a brilliant flash of light and a sudden strange smell, and to the couple’s surprise the jacket seemed to have disappeared.

     Before either could say a word, the Scientist was again leaning over where his jacket had been. He seemed well pleased with this interesting turn of events, and rubbing his stomach he skipped gleefully out of the room, flicking off the light.

     Horic and Isha held their breaths for a few moments, but by the time they were varying shades of blue, it became apparent that the scientist had gone. Barely daring to think, the two scampered towards the place of the jacket’s disappearance.

     “Sons of Kelpbeard. He’s shrunk it!” and Horic picked up the tiny little jacket in his fingers.

     “So he is the one who did it. My beloved statue...” Isha began to whimper.

     “Hush for a second, Isha. I’ve just had the most horrible thought. It seems that the scientist has tampered with his precious ray so that it shrinks things.”

     “Yes, Horic. Surprisingly enough, I can see that.”

     “Quiet, quiet! Don’t you see how terrible this is? No, don’t interrupt. Think about it. The ray shrinks everything. EVERYTHING. And what do Neopians normally use the ray FOR?”

     Isha made thinking faces for a few moments, then clapped a hoof over her mouth.

     “You don’t mean – !”

     “I do. Come midnight, every Neopian with access to the lab ray will come in here unawares to be zapped. Little do they know, they’re about to be turned into miniatures!”

     “Horic, we can’t let this happen. Neopia would fall to ruin.”

     “I know. I’ve got an idea. If we could somehow get into the wiring of the machine, we could tamper with it until it’s back to normal.”

     Hurrying over, the two peered into the dark interior of the heinous machine.

     “Drat. There’s only one entrance, and it’s as small as a Petoot. What are we going to do?”

     “I know,” said Isha rather distantly, and squaring her shoulders, stepped in front of the dreaded ray. “Horic, if you shrink me down, I can get inside the machine.”

     “Isha, no! It’s too dangerous.”

     “Horic,” said Isha, icily, “If you dare say something soppy that belongs in one of Brightvale’s soap operas, I will personally feed you to the mortogs. Go on. Zap me.”

     With a sigh, Horic slammed his hand against the red button.

***

     Fyora was edgy. The festivities were well underway, the food and drinks were overflowing, and the visiting dignitaries were having the time of their lives. The day was promising great reviews, and nothing was missing.

     Well, one thing was.

     Fyora eyed the empty chair two seats away anxiously. It was unlike the punctual, organised Isha to be late for anything, even a toilet break, and here, on Neopia’s grandest day, she was missing.

     Something must have gone wrong.

     Brushing away the small cloud of Angelpi, Fyora rose to her feet. The clock had almost struck midnight, the time when the statue was meant to be unveiled. Trying not to look overly perturbed, the majestic queen scrambled inwardly for some explanation to give the breathless, waiting crowd. She opened her mouth and forced a smile.

     “Neopians!” cried a familiar voice.

     The crowd swivelled with one accord to face the new speaker. Fyora breathed a fragrant sigh of relief, as she saw Isha standing, bathed in light, on the pedestal where the statue was to sit.

     “Judging from the amount of pie on your faces, you’ve all been enjoying yourselves,” said Isha. The merry crowd roared with laughter.

     “Let’s not waste time with formalities. With the help of my dear friend, Horic, and in honour of her highness, the great Queen Fyora, may I present to you: FYORA’S STATUE!”

     Amid the deafening applause, Isha pulled something from her pocket and placed it in the center of the pedestal. Then she took out a handkerchief and dropped it over the tiny item.

     The crowd paused, puzzled.

     The arena was silent.

     Fyora’s forehead showed the tiniest beginnings of a scowl.

     The entire area was lit up with a dazzling white light, and the crowd gasped. Isha leapt backwards as the tiny handkerchief swelled into an enormous size.

     “HAPPY FAERIE DAY!” And Isha’s face was the picture of happiness as the great white sheet came rippling down to reveal Fyora’s statue, perfect, solid, and entirely back to normal.

     After the smaller statues had been given out to the appropriate guests, Fyora drew Isha aside.

     “Isha, I’m speechless. What you did out there was as big a climax as I could have wished, and the statue – my dear, it’s incredible. I must admit, I was a tad worried for a while, but I should have known you wouldn’t settle for mediocre. Did you have any problems at all?”

     Isha smiled brightly. “Oh, there were a few - small - issues, but nothing I couldn’t handle.” And she winked at Horic.

The End

 
Search the Neopian Times




Great stories!


---------

Skiplerz
Once you start, you can't stop... =o

by gelert548

---------

Or Something Like It: Team Barracks
I'm with Darigan.

Written by lauziloges

by kittie_orion


---------

Life as an Aisha: Symol Hole
Really, how small IS the Symol Hole?

by xlaq

---------

TRAODAF: The Altador Cup
Ever wondered why some worlds don't have teams in the AC?

by gabeedragon



Submit your stories, articles, and comics using the new submission form.