Where there's a Weewoo, there's a way Circulation: 184,475,305 Issue: 466 | 22nd day of Collecting, Y12
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The Chomby Fight


by thediractor

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There actually is a Neopets item called 'The Chomby Fight'. I wanted to add onto the item description, so I wrote this.

“Subro, give it BACK!” Jiad cried. He jumped on his hind legs, trying to grab his pendant back. For one thing, it is very hard for a Chomby such as Jiad to grab things with his stumpy (but not fat) paws.

      For another thing, it was hard for another Chomby, referring here to Subro, to actually hold on to the thin loop of string with the gold pendant on the end. So both brothers were having a difficult time with this, but Subro had the advantage of being ten feet tall when standing on his hind legs, and Jiad only eight feet.

      “Whoa!” Subro slipped and the pendant went flying.

      Jiad stalked over to it, never breaking eye contact with his older brother, who lay in a mud puddle staring up at him. Jiad angrily (but silently) slipped the pendant around his neck, dropped back to all fours, and stalked off.

      “Jiad, you come back here NOW!” Subro demanded. “Come back here and we’ll finish this!”

      “Don’t you ever – ever – touch this pendant again,” Jiad said coldly. He did not look back and then continued to walk.

      That was not just another one of their squabbles. This time Subro had actually, unbelievably, tried to grab hold of Jiad’s prized pendant. The pendant was no ordinary one. The young Chomby’s father had put it around his neck when he was just a Chombling. Jiad and Subro’s father was the leader of one of the biggest Tyrannian Chomby clans. This did not mean, of course, that all the Chombies were colored Tyrannian – Subro himself was Green and Jiad was blue – it merely meant they lived in Tyrannia. This pendant declared Jiad as his father’s heir. That meant, obviously, that someday Jiad would be the chief of the Chomby tribe. This was an honor that should have been bestowed on Subro.

      Subro was the chief’s second Chombling, his sister Sara aside. He should be the heir, not his little brother! In fact, the pendant once had been Subro’s, but then Jiad was born and he showed ‘excellent skills in leadership and agility’. So why was he so small? Subro was well-built and strong. It was natural for Subro to be furious with this decision, but taking the pendant was a step too far.

      That was the day that started what would later be known in history books as The Chomby Fight.

***

      Years passed, with cross feelings between Jiad and Subro growing each day. Their father grew older, and on his birthday he said at their evening meal, “Jiad, son, I am now at the age at which all Chomby chiefs must retire and pass the crown onto their heirs. So I announce that in two week’s time there will be a ceremony, a crowning, at which Jiad will become chief.”

      Sara, their mother, and Jiad were all happy with this news, but Subro grumbled, “That isn’t fair! I am fit to be the leader, and I am the oldest boy! That pendant was mine and I deserve to have it still!”

      “Why, Subro!” The chief looked at his son, astonished. “You would dare to go against the word of the chief – the word of your father?”

      Subro shrank away. “No.”

      He got up and walked outside, his head hung low. That pendant really should be his... and now, Subro meant to have it back.

      Jiad came out a little while later for some fresh air. He was surprised to see Subro out as well, and was about to turn around when Subro said, “Stop. Jiad – I need to talk to you.”

      Nervously Jiad approached the tall Chomby.

      “Look,” Subro said roughly. “That pendant – that’s mine.”

      “No, no, it isn’t!” Jiad countered. He was weary of this argument. The pendant was his - why couldn’t Subro just accept that and move on?

      “It was rightfully mine!”

      “You heard Father. This pendant belongs to me.”

      “Let’s say it doesn’t belong to either of us,” Subro suggested. “Let’s say that it still belongs to Father. That way, it’s easier to decide the heir.”

      “How so?” Jiad asked suspiciously.

      “We’ll have a match,” Subro went on. “The strongest Chomby obviously deserves to be the leader most.”

      “...” Jiad did not like where this was going. He was strong, but Subro was stronger still. But he could not back down. “Fine. Are you ready?”

      “For goodness’ sake, no!” Subro rolled his eyes. “We’ll have it in front of the clan – in two weeks, at the crowning. My crowning, I should say.”

      “Don’t get cocky,” Jiad snapped. The brothers turned their backs to each other and stomped off.

***

      Finally the long-predicted Chomby Fight was going to happen.

      One week and six days later, Jiad was sitting in Footprint Meadow. Footprint Meadow was his favorite place; it always calmed him down, what with the light breezes that blew there and the soft, springy grass that grew.

      Footprint Meadow sat high atop the Tyrannian Plateau, all on its own. This was one of the only places where grass covered the earth instead of red and tan rocks. It was also the first place that the Chomby tribe grazed when first coming to Tyrannia. The huge tribe practically destroyed it with their munching and trampling, but over time, it grew back. A few footprints, though, from the biggest Chombies were still visible if you pulled away the grass. Thus it came to be called Footprint Meadow.

      The Chombies did not graze in Footprint Meadow any longer. It was too far to go from the main camp, and there was another pasture immediately next to the camp. Jiad alone came to it now.

      As Jiad sat, he wondered: How will it go tomorrow? Subro was twice his size and all muscle. There was no chance that Jiad could defeat him – except, maybe, a few wiles. But even clever tricks weren’t a match for the huge green Chomby. Maybe Father could call off the fight, Jiad realized. Father was a peace-loving Chomby like nearly all in the tribe, and seeing his sons fight at the ceremony would be the last thing he wanted. A hope grew in Jiad for this last possibility.

      But even as he thought this, Subro was speaking with Father back in the camp. Things were not going in Jiad’s favor.

      “Father, I have been thinking,” Subro began casually. “Is choosing Jiad as an heir the best for the tribe?”

      “What do you mean, son?” Father asked, surprised. “I have faith in Jiad – I always have and I always will.”

      “Oh, Father, don’t take this the wrong way!” Subro said quickly. “That isn’t what I meant at all. Jiad, I’m sure, has BRILLIANT (cough, cough) leadership skills.”

      Father beamed and nodded.

      “...but on the other hand, Father,” Subro continued. “He is a little less skilled physically. Common sense and logic are what are most looked for in leaders, but...”

      He paused. “But what?” Father asked suspiciously. He was growing more worried about this subject.

      “But,” Subro asked. “Would a Chomby like Jiad be able to defend the tribe? What if there was an attack? It is the chief’s responsibility to always be on the front lines of a battle. Is Jiad fit for that task?”

      “Well...” Father stroked his beard. Subro turned and hid a grin. Father was seeing it his way. Tomorrow, the tribe would have a new leader – not Chief Jiad but Chief Subro the Brave!

      “I don’t know, son,” Father admitted. “I can see how Jiad’s being chief during an attack may be perilous for the tribe. I... I don’t know what to do.”

      “Father, I have excelled in our training courses,” Subro offered. “And also I am the oldest boy. I know being chief is a huge responsibility, but if it is for the good of the tribe, I would gladly take Jiad’s place.”

      Father perked up. “Really, son?” he asked. “You wouldn’t mind taking such a big task onto your shoulders? You would become chief rather than Jiad for the good of the tribe?”

      Subro nodded. “However hard the task, if it is for the tribe.”

      “A Chomby who cares this much about his clan...” Father considered. “And besides that being so well-built and valiant.... I will think about this tonight, Subro, son. Tomorrow at the ceremony I will make my announcement.”

      “Oh, Father, that is another thing I have thought of,” Subro added. “Jiad is such a wonderful Chomby, and we both could make an excellent leader, but.... If you are having trouble deciding, why not let Jiad and I have a duel tomorrow? The best-qualified is sure to be the fittest chief.”

      “That is an idea I hadn’t thought of yet!” Father said approvingly. “You’re right: The strongest would be the best leader. My son, you are truly a remarkable Chomby for thinking of this. Very well. Tomorrow, hold the duel.”

      “Last one standing wins!” Subro declared. He had finally won over his father.

      “Goodness, no!” Father exclaimed. “Merely a battle to test your worth, not to the death! Both my sons are very dear to me; and I suppose it might be hard enough to even watch you fight. To the death? No!”

      Subro nodded. “Of course, of course! That is unthinkable. Well, good night, Father. I must rest up for the ceremony tomorrow.”

      “That’s my boy – knows when he needs his sleep,” Father declared proudly. “And so I, too, must retire. Good night!”

      So the Chombies parted and slept. Jiad returned late that night with an awful feeling in his stomach.

***

      The two brothers met at dawn; this was the moment they’d been waiting for their entire lives. Soon only one would be the victor and he would be the true leader.

      Crowds cheered as Jiad came to King Plateau, the sight of the ceremony. Father had not yet arrived; it was too early.

      “Jiad! Jiad!” they cheered. “Chief Jiad has arrived!”

      Subro too came on to King Plateau from the opposite side.

      “Subro, too, has come to watch the ceremony!”

      “Why would I be late for my own ceremony?” Subro asked. A murmur of confusion swept the crowd. “Sorry, little brother, but that pendant was mine to start with, and it will be mine to end with as well!”

      The amber pendant glimmered on Jiad’s chest. Incased in the amber was a single blade of grass from the Chomby tribe’s first home. They had lived there hundreds of years ago, but the pendant had been handed down from generation ton generation to the most worthy son.

      “Jiad, the pendant.” Subro gestured to a flat rock that sat on the chief’s stone chair. Reluctantly Jiad removed his pendant and placed it on the rock.

      “What’s going on?” was the question that was whispered throughout the crowd. “Why is Chief Jiad taking off his pendant?”

      “Now the test begins!” Subro roared. “Let the true chief win!”

      The brothers charged at each other and the crowd gasped. They collided head first. Jiad rubbed his forehead with a stumpy paw.

      The brothers struggled against each other, each one trying to push the other to the ground. Cries of “Stop! Stop!” came from the desperate crowd.

      Jiad felt his knees begin to weaken as Subro forced him down. Subro was about to give one final shove and Jiad was about to give up when the familiar voice of their father rang loud and clear – “STOP!”

      Subro immediately stopped fighting and stood up, straight and proud. Father may have just arrived, but he had seen how strong Subro was.

      The crowd fell silent as well as the chief began to speak. “These last few days I have come to realize that I may have made some poor choices as far as choosing heirs.”

      Another collective gasp from the bystanders arose.

      “My eldest son, Subro here, has alerted me that my youngest son, Jiad, may not be the best choice of chief,” Father continued. “If an attack were to happen, Jiad may not be adequate to defend the tribe.”

      Jiad’s heart fell. He was tired, sweaty, and now he had been embarrassed in front of the entire tribe. Subro, on the other hand, was feeling pretty high-and-mighty. Father turned his worn old face to his youngest child.

      “No harm intended, Jiad, son,” he said softly. “I only want what’s best for the tribe – and you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

      Jiad weakly nodded.

      “And so I have come to a decision.”

      “Thank you, Father!” Subro cried, rushing over to stand by his father. “I will not fail the tribe, cross my heart!”

      “Son?” Father asked, confused. “Why are you so excited?”

      He shook his head, “Eh, no matter. I will now announce my heir, and, today, the chief!”

      The crowd cheered. Father stood up straight so that he loomed over everyone.

      “My heir is not Jiad....” he began. Jiad already knew this.

      “...nor is it Subro.”

      Subro jumped up. This was unexpected! But... he had won the fight, hadn’t he? He had certainly proved he was stronger than Jiad. The deal was that the best-qualified (aka the strongest, right?) would be chief.

      “Father, the winner of the duel was to be chief, remember?” Subro cried angrily.

      “Why, Subro, I do not recall saying that,” Father said, looking at his eldest son. “I remember saying that the best-qualified was going to be the chief – actually, son, you said that.”

      Subro was defeated. Father was right – he had said that the best-qualified would be the chief. But if neither of the brothers were chief, who could be? And why wasn’t Subro considered the most worthy after the strength he had just shown his father?

      “And so, without further ado, I present--” Father was interrupted.

      “You can’t DO that!” a few voices in the crowd roared. “You must choose one of your sons! It’s written in the rules of the tribe laid down by its founder hundreds of years ago!”

      “But it is not written, as you might find, looking upon it closely enough,” Father countered. “And so it is not one of my sons that I chose for my heir just last night.”

      “You cannot STAY chief,” the voices shouted. “So you must pick one of your sons!”

      “No, I mustn’t!” Father argued. “It is clearly written in the very rules you speak of: The heir to the chief’s crown must be one of his children – if he has no children, he may pick a worthy bystander to the ceremony. ‘Children’ – not son.”

      “What others are there?” The voices still persisted. “There are no others to choose from!”

      “You forget.” Father shook his head. Then he again raised his voice. “I now announce my heir – nay, my heiress! Come forth, Sara, daughter!”

      The crowd gasped. Out of their midst came forth Subro and Jiad’s one sibling: their much-forgotten sister, the quiet Sara. They gaped as she lightly walked to her father. She turned around and smiled apologetically at her brothers.

      “I’m sorry, Subro, Jiad,” she said in her soft tone of voice. “Father only came to me last night and asked me to be the chief. I honestly do not think it is because you both are unworthy – it is because you are both equally worthy and Father could not simply choose one of you. I cannot see how I’d make a good leader, but that is in the opinion of others, I suppose. Please forgive me, Jiad, Subro.”

      The two brothers looked at each other a long time. Finally, they smiled, and then burst out laughing. It was a joyfully unexpected turn of events.

      Father put his crown of dried clay and shining stones on Sara’s head. The crowd cheered – “Hail Sara, first queen of the Chombies! Hail, Sara!”

      Subro and Jiad cheered as well, beaming even though neither was the chief. At last the Chomby fight was settled and no more.

      And so Sara proved to be a better leader than anyone had expected. She ruled with wisdom and understanding, and was never hesitant to do the right thing.

      As for Subro and Jiad? Well, nobody knows for sure what happened. It is said, though, that the brothers, so different and yet so much alike, went off exploring somewhere, to unknown lands. They became fast friends, and the pendant that Jiad wore was left sitting there on the rock that he had set it on before the duel. That is where Queen Sara took it up and saved it for the next heir or heiress.

      Subro and Jiad never returned to the Chomby tribe, but tales were heard of the famous explorers throughout Neopia. One author took the story (or what the person could gather of it) and put it into a history book. This is how it ended, with these last words:

      And so the Chomby Fight ended - an event never to be forgotten, by readers or by the brothers themselves.

The End

 
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