White Weewoos don't exist. *shifty eyes* Circulation: 176,435,056 Issue: 337 | 4th day of Eating, Y10
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King Hagan UnVeiled


by kurabuotome

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Brightvale, in his opinion, was the most glorious place in all of Neopia. The lush green grass and the friendly neighbors surrounding you were his haven, and his world. Oh, how he wished to join the people of Brightvale, who were prancing the streets on this wonderful spring morning. He peered over the balcony where his eyes lingered over the rooftops of the Royal Potionery, and the Brightvale Motery. Often, the occasional neopet roaming around the castle would smile and wave enthusiastically up at him.

      The days would roam by in which he longed to spend a day alone in his wondrous kingdom, and for once gaze upon the castle in admiration. He slumped back into the lavish throne room, walking along the green carpet to his royal chair. He had only had one visitor today, which added grief to his already taxing day. It had been a blue Xweetok that had came in to see him, wishing to bestow shrewdness upon him. It was what he most desired in his life. The passion he lived for; the ability to be wise, and knowing all. He, as well as everybody in Brightvale, knew that this kingdom stood for the educational standards they represent, which skyrocketed as the best in Neopia. He grieved all his life because he knew that all the knowledge in the whole world could not be his, that it would never be in his possession, and it saddened him more and more each day.

      He remembered her quite well, seeing as she was the only company he had had all day. Before her attempt to wisen the King, she had given him a basket of fresh picked fruits from just this morning. She had a kind face, like her mother, who was standing behind her, giving her constant nods of encouragement.

      He was a kind man, but when it came to knowledge and people not having any, he would usually lose his temper. He never meant to, especially in front of little girls like the one standing before him, shaking slightly, and stuttering to find her lost words.

      “Er...” she said, and looked back at her mother who widened her eyes and said, “Go on...”

     The King rested his head into his right hand and tapped the side of his throne with his left.

      “Oh yeah,” the girl said feebly, and began. “It’s a sad day when you can no longer trust... er... Or maybe it was...”

      “Just keep going!” her mother whispered.

      “It’s a sad day when you can no longer trust... charity the heart of... a herd of adventurous... Avabot...?” She finished her sentence, and laid her big blue eyes on the King.

      He couldn’t help it. So badly he wanted to pat her on the head and say, “It was a good try, sweetheart,” but the words couldn’t form. He closed his eyes, stood up, and bellowed, “I’m not dense, youngin’. I already knew that!”

      He sat back down, glaring at himself in closed eyes. He didn’t open them; he listened to the crying girl walk out of the throne room with her mother at her side. It used to be hard to reject anybody’s attempt at wisdom, but it soon became a reflex and uniform.

      Hours later, he dozed off to bed, He had a restless and bothersome sleep. He had a strange dream that night. He was wandering around the outskirts of his castle, and the trees around him suddenly grew arms and legs and started chasing after him, pelting apples as they ran. He ran into town, trying to hide behind the Wheel of Knowledge, looking right and left for the terrifying trees. Catching his breath, he was completely startled by the Draik who usually stood by the Wheel of Knowledge, beckoning neopets around the street to spin.

      “Shhhh!” the King whispered, again looking right and left for any signs of pelting apples.

      The Draik looked skeptically upon him, and said, “You cannot hide behind knowledge forever. One of these days you’re going to have to face them.”

      The King didn’t know what he was talking about, nor did he care. “Not a chance I am going to face those trees-”

      “You know how I mean, King Hagan,” said the Draik.

      King Hagan twisted his head to reply to the Draik again, but he was gone. He no longer heard the thumping of the trees on the earthy ground, so he thought it would be safe to come out. Suddenly, it was bright out, and the people of Brightvale were out and about, laughing pleasantly. He finally got what he had wanted; sure, he wasn’t alone, but he guessed that company wasn’t that bad. The last time he had been out in town was fifteen years ago, and the rest of his time was spent locked in his castle or over in Meridell constantly outsmarting grumpy King Skarl.

      He started to roam about, curious why people hadn’t noticed that their king was walking among them.

      He stood in front of the stony path to the Scrollery, watching neopets walk in and out. He was about to move forward into the Royal Potionery, when he saw a familiar face stroll past. It was the little Xweetok that had visited him earlier, and the very thought of her made his heart lift.

      I am a good person, he thought to himself, and followed her into the store. Nobody seemed to have recognized him in here either, it was almost as though he were invisible.

      “Sorry,” the pretty Acara said to the Xweetok. “We are all out of stock. Maybe try the chocolate factory!”

      The look on the girl's face was identical to the look when she had left the castle the same day. Her sobs stained in his memory, now in his dreams. He closed his eyes as she left the Scrollery, her mother by her side.

      “Where does he think he gets off?” He opened his eyes to see a Blumaroo walking into the store with his friends, in a deep and loud conversation. They sat at the round table cuddled in the corner of the Scrollery, and continued with their conversation.

      “I mean,” the Blumaroo continued, putting his fist on the table, “I gave him perfectly good wisdom today, and he just shooed me away like I was some servant!”

      His friends shook their head in agreement of the disgrace.

      “I wouldn’t even go in there if my parents didn’t make me...” said the Skeith sitting on the opposite end. “Somebody needs to knock him off his high Uni!”

      The rest of them grunted in agreement. The King was appalled by their words; they couldn’t talk about him like that, and certainly not in his presence!

      “Now you listen here, you hooligans! I cannot and I will not take this much embarrassment from my people! You shouldn’t be talking about me at all like that, but in a shop-full of my fellow Neopians? That is just out-right disrespect!” King Hagan yelled, but none of them responded. He tried to speak again to get their attention, to tell them off, but no words could issue out of his mouth. He grasped his throat, hoping to pull out some words, but they were stuck. He was rushing backward without moving, the Scrollery growing farther and farther away, soon becoming an ant.

      In a sudden gasp for breath, he woke up in his realistic dream in cold sweat, shaking his head from a blurry morning vision of his royal bedroom. He got up stretching his arms, walked out to his balcony and looked out longingly into town.

      You cannot hide behind knowledge forever. One of these days you’re going to have to face them. These words rang in his head over and over again. He knew what to do.

      He quickly dressed in his brilliant green robes and headed out of the castle. As he crossed over the plank lying over his moat, the eyes of pedestrians widened, and they mumbled quickly to the person next to them. He ignored them and strode forward toward her house. When he had passed the Wheel of Knowledge, he turned back around to see the Draik.

      “Thank you,” said the King, and walked on. The Draik stood, baffled that the King had thanked him, and for nothing it had seemed.

      Walking in shorter and faster steps, he hurried along the road. Her house was in sight. He knew where they lived. He had seen them walking in and out of the cute cottage many times when he would sit observing on his balcony. He got to the door and knocked. Many Neopians gathered around now, curiously interested in the King’s bazaar behavior. He knocked again.

      “May I help-” The mother stood in the open door way and looked positively bewildered. “King Hagan! Er- how nice to see you this fine morning! Em... Anything wrong?”

      “No, no. Is your daughter home?” he asked, looking behind her in her comfy home.

      “My daught- Mae? You want to see Mae?”

      “Yes. Please.” He wasn’t accustomed to saying please so often, but it came streaming out as smooth as water.

      Mae came bustling down the stairs when her mother called her, and looked frightened when she saw the King. He scared her yesterday, and he wouldn’t blame her for looking frightened.

      “Try again, please,” he said and folded his arms.

      “Oh!” she said, and looked for her words again. “Well... I just made another up last night... let's see...” She cleared her throat. “I’ve always said that enemies... are comparable to... the charm of a school of... Deaver.” She finished and winced, expecting him to yell at her again.

      He knew this, however, that this was true. Of course he did. Who could possibly think he was dumb enough to think he didn’t already know this? Stupidity...

      He patted her on the head. “It was a good try, sweet heart.”

The End

This is my very first entry to the NT, so I hope you like it! :D

 
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