A Quest For Art: Part One

     All of her Poogle friends still lived in Faerieland, and so far, she hadn’t met any other Poogles in Neopia Central; she found it strange, but she wasn’t suspicious. That meant every hour here was another hour of mind-numbing boredom. Arca was too upset to make new friends. She had already visited the Rainbow Pool, the Money Tree, and the Auction House. Everywhere else was too expensive.

     She walked through the Neopian Bazaar, gazing longingly at the Grooming Parlor and Uni’s Clothing. Every day, her dad gave her a Neopoint to throw in the wishing well, and every day she hid that Neopoint under her bed. Soon, she’d be able to buy some new clothes, get some chocolate, or maybe even buy some makeup! Until then, she groomed her yellow hair with a hand-me-down hairbrush in the mirror, glaring loathsomely at the green eyes that stared back at her.

     And yet, she despised every Neopoint he had ever given her. It wasn’t that her dad was tempting her; no, that plump, purple Poogle was the kindest Neopet Arca knew. She hated the fact that it was a glimpse of what she used to have, a way of life she might never have again. Her dad saw Arca’s sadness, but between looking for a job and scrounging up some food, he didn’t have much time for her.

     When Arca reached the Petpet shop, she stopped. She stared longingly at the cute Angelpuss. Its white fur, cute halo, and pretty smile just begged Arca to buy it. As quickly as she had stopped, she started running away. She was angry. Angry that she couldn’t have an Angelpuss, and angry she was poor. She didn’t stop running until she came to a cave entrance, lit by torches.

     “Where am I?” she wondered out loud.

     “The famous Art Centre, of course,” said a nearby voice.

     Arca looked in the direction of the voice. It was coming from the statue!

     “I must be going insane,” she muttered, and entered the cavern.

     Behind her, a dark-colored Poogle followed in the shadows.

     When Arca came into the Art Centre, she gasped. Never before had such colors hit her eyes at once! The greenish glow cast on the walls beside her blended with the usual grey of the cave. In the Art Gallery doorway, a vibrant painting filled her vision with orange, blue, and green. With the black and white of the Neopian Times came the fresh newspaper smell, and the coffee shop aroma topped it all off with a savory scent.

     “Is this your first time to the Art Centre?” asked a pleasant sounding voice nearby.

     For the second time that night, Arca whirled to meet an unseen speaker. This time, however, the sound came from an Aisha. The pink figure was sitting at the storytelling area. Arca had heard about storytelling, but she thought it was just an insane notion.

     “Do you storytellers really make stories come to life?” she blurted out without thinking, and instantly regretted it. The Aisha laughed.

     “We try to, but sometimes we can’t,” she said with a smile. “So this really must be your first time, then. It’s ok; I’ll show you around.”

     And with that, the Aisha got up and started walking. Arca had to jog to catch up.

     “My name’s Leah,” said the Aisha.

     “Arca,” replied the Poogle. “My dad and I just moved here from Faerieland.”

     “Faerieland! I heard that place is amazing. Why would you leave a place like that?” said Leah, but seeing Arca’s crestfallen face made her stop. “Well, you should come over to the storytelling area sometime and share some tales.”

     Arca smiled. “I will; you can count on it.”

     Another smile spread across the Aisha’s face. “On with the tour, then.”

     The two figures walked for a few seconds, and then arrived at the Coin Shop.

     “This is the Coin Shop,” said Arca’s tour guide. Arca gazed in amazement at the shining gold colors inside. Leah had to tear the Poogle away to get her moving.

     “The coin shop owner is kind enough, if you can buy anything. Otherwise, he’s one grumpy Skeith. You don’t want to go in there. Trust me. Ah, here’s someplace you should come.” Arca looked up.

     In front of her was gathered the largest mix of Neopets she had ever seen. Kacheeks, Acaras, Cybunnies, and pretty much every kind of Neopet Arca had ever met. Suddenly, she stopped. Over in the corner, hidden by the shadows, was a Poogle!

     Arca couldn’t tell what color it was, but as soon as the other Poogle caught sight of her and Leah, it ducked out of sight. Arca blinked and rubbed her eyes, thinking she had imagined it, then realized Leah had left her and gone ahead on the tour by herself. The Poogle ran to catch up, but the image of that other Poogle was still in her mind. Arca caught up with Leah at the Art Gallery.

     “-is the most famous in all of Neopia.”

     Arca smiled to herself at the Aisha’s obliviousness.

     “Many Neopians bring their masterpieces here to be on display.” The Aisha halted her narration to let Arca look inside, and then said, “Our final stop is the Coffee Shop, where you can get the finest brew of coffee in Neopia, although Terror Mountain’s slushies are almost as amazing.”

     “What about the Neopian Times?” said the curious Poogle.

     “Oh yes! The Neopian Times, the one and only printer of Neopia’s famous newsletter.”

     Arca almost burst out laughing at the Aisha’s expression as she said this. Her head was held high, and her mouth open as if she were yelling to the whole of Neopia.

     “Here you can find Neopian writers who think they’re above storytelling-” the Aisha sniffed as she said this “-entering their stories in hopes of being published.”

     Then, a strange look came over Arca’s new friend, and she started to say something that the Poogle didn’t understand. “Art is one step away from being alive,” Leah murmured. “If it took that next step, anyone would be willing to dedicate their lives to it.” And as suddenly as the look had come, it disappeared. Arca wondered if her upbeat friend was as easygoing as she let on.

     As the two Neopets turned to face the entrance once again, the Poogle stopped. “What’s that?” she exclaimed. Leah followed Arca’s gaze, then stiffened. She was looking at a stone door, barely noticeable except for the fact that it was a darker color that the rock walls around it.

     “Nothing,” she said, recovering, but Arca looked at her suspiciously.

     “Honestly, it’s just a janitor’s closet. There’s nothing in there.” The Aisha walked quickly towards the storytelling area again. “Are you coming?”

     Arca sighed, then looked at the door again. Suddenly, she glimpsed something. She walked a little closer, and tilted her head, because it was written at a slant. A poem, carved so small no one would have noticed it if they weren’t looking for something strange.

     Those who pass

     This undisturbed door

     Shall not last.

     The Poogle scrutinized the whole door, expecting to see something else. A continuation, perhaps, or maybe an ‘unless.’ But she didn’t see anything. Leah called her again, and Arca turned to go join her newfound friend.

     As she reached the point where the entrance was, the voice she heard the first time, that she thought came from the statue, called to her. “Over here!” it whispered urgently. Arca turned to face the noise. There, in the entryway, was the Poogle she had seen before.

     He was entirely black, except for a white tip on one of his ears. His face was grim, but his eyes danced happily. Arca stopped, and stared at his eyes. They were completely black! She recoiled a little, then walked forward again. She shouldn’t be afraid of black eyes.

     “That’s silly,” she said.

     “What’s silly?” questioned the figure in the doorway.

     “Oh, nothing,” she stuttered. She hadn’t realized she was talking out loud. “I was just saying it’s silly to be afraid of black eyes.”

     “My eyes aren’t black,” he stated. They’re brown.”

     As Arca looked closer, she saw they were, in fact, a dark shade of brown.

     “Oh, sorry,” she stammered again. “I didn’t know.”

     “It’s okay,” he said. “Most people think they’re black.”

     Arca breathed a sigh of relief.

     “Anyways, I called you over here to tell you something.” The Poogle looked nervously over at Leah, then towards the other shops. “The leaders at all of the stores and areas are in on it, too, but they’re supposed to protect it.”

     This last sentence intrigued Arca more than anything. “Is it about the door?” she asked on a hunch.

     “Yes,” he said, and a dark look came across his face. “It holds the greatest art in the world, but it’s protected by an ancient magic. Older than the Great Faeries themselves.”

     Arca started to giggle at this, but the look on the other Poogle’s face stopped her.

     “You aren’t kidding, are you? You really think that Neopia’s greatest art is in there?”

     The shadowy Poogle nodded in response, and Arca pondered what it could be. Is there really a treasure trove of art? What kind of magic? In the end, her curiosity won. If it really was a janitor’s closet, what harm could it do?

     “Have you been in there before?” she asked. “And what kind of art is it?” Arca looked around behind her, at the amazing art she had already seen, then looked back at the Poogle, but he hadn’t said anything. He just looked as if Leah spotting them was the worst possible option. Glancing back every few seconds, he shifted nervously from paw to paw.

     “All right, I’m going,” she said, and the black-furred Poogle nodded.

     “And I’m coming with you...”

To be continued...