Squeaking Novas, Giant Flowers, and a Crying Queen
If there was one thing every Faerie hated--besides Xandra--it was the annual Secret Cybunny Giveaway. Queen Fyora hosted it much like a Secret Santa, except it was for fellow Faeries. Every Faerie was called from her duty to meet in Queen Fyora's garden on the 2nd of Running to pick names from a top hat. It used to be Fyora would decorate the Darkest Faerie's Statue, but now that two statues were in the Queen's garden, someone was bound to get The Betrayer, as Fyora would surely attend to decorating her former student's statue.
"We have gathered here today to celebrate an event that I'm sure you all enjoy," Fyora's voice rang out from the front of the garden, oblivious to the numerous grumbles. "The Secret Cybunny Giveaway is the only event where we give trinkets to each other, for the rest of the year is spent watching over Neopia." A handful of Faeries noticed Fyora's gaze flicker towards the hidden grotto with Xandra's statue, then dart away quickly.
"As I call your name, please draw a slip of parchment out of the hat. And no trading names! " Fyora sternly swept her gaze over the Veteran Faeries- Taelia, Illusen, Jhudora, Naia, Aethia, and the other well-known Faeries.
Jhudora smiled. Finally, her chance to make up with her sister! For years, she had hoped to draw her name, so she could give a Please Forgive Me Gift. She headed back toward her Bluff, oblivious to the concerned and frightened gazes of her fellows. Usually, the fact that Jhudora was smiling was never a cause for celebration.
She sat down on her purple and green throne, contemplating how to word her gift card.
"I still don't like you, forgive me?" Too blunt.
"I'm sorry for what I did, it was actually a prank for Queen Fyora?" No, the Queen inspects the gifts. "Growf! Grrrowf!" Inspiration came in the form of her Bartamus hurtling in the room. In his jaws, he had a few trampled Cheery Plants. Jhudora's eyes narrowed, and her lip twitched upward. That was it.
The Happiness Faerie
"Oh no. No no no, not her! Anyone but her!" Mira moaned. She had refrained from peeking at her name until she had reached her house, also known as the satellite circling Neopia, so she could scream in agitation if she had happened to get... her. Mira inwardly shuddered, recalling her first recollection of Sloth's little sister.
"I wanna be a faerie too!" A small, green whatever-she-was pouted on the steps of the Faerieland Day Care. A petite six-year-old faerie with cocoa-colored skin and bright blue hair nervously edged away from the girl, fidgeting with her locket. The girl turned her head toward the faerie, who threw caution to the wind and ran to join her best friend Aethia, another six-year-old, in the sandbox. The girl followed. She put on what was supposed to be her best Puppyblew face, and whimpered. "You're a faerie, right? How do I become one?" Mira scooted closer to Aethia. "I don't know," she whispered. The girl's face transformed into one of fury and hatred. "TELL ME NOW!!" Aethia quickly scooped up a handful of sand, and hurled it at the girl, then quickly took Mira's hand. "Do you remember that basic teleportation spell my Mama taught us?" Mira nodded, and closed her eyes. "Mara Lath Fas!" There was a dazzling flash of white light, and the girls were on the roof of the Day Care. The girl screamed in frustration, and shook her fist at the faeries. "You just wait! I'll find out! Soon everyone will know the name Lars, the Faerie of... of... of Happiness!"
Mira shook her head, as if she could drain the memory out like water in her ears. That pitiful excuse for a being didn't deserve the title of Faerie. Cardboard wings taped crookedly on her back, a wand that was blessed by the Healing Springs Faerie, so the only thing she could do was drench someone in healing water.
Her eyes flickered toward a Nova hanging above her bed.
No, that was special. Wasn't it? Mira sighed, and plucked the Nova from its string. "I can't believe I'm actually giving a gift to that little cretin," she muttered.
And she began.
Queen Fyora sighed sadly as she made her way through the garden. She passed by a statue of a wild faerie, hair tangled up, a contorted face of rage and hatred, that told a story all its own. She barely glanced at it; her eyes fixed pointedly on the earth beneath her feet. At the back of the garden was a forest of elm trees, branches interwoven to create a leafy canopy. She passed by her sanctuary, casting a longing glance towards the two weeping willows hiding her most prized possessions; but carried on.
Just before the walls of her garden, stood a statue of a speckled Xweetok. Her eyes were wild, mane and hair matted and flying back, her arm outstretched, casting a spell that never finished. Queen Fyora closed her eyes, and focused her thoughts.
"Hello, Xandra. Happy Easter, in case you still care."
Fyora's eyelids fluttered open; how could two syllables carry so much hatred?
"I thought you'd forgotten. I've waited for you, you know. I've anticipated this moment, when I could throw all my rage upon you, with you unable to stop it."
"It didn't have to end this way."
"Ha! You think we're done? Oh no, we've just only started."
Fyora opened her eyes again, so she could block the Xweetok's words. She draped a garland of flowers around the Xweetok's wild hair, adorned her head with a crown made from rose bush branches.
She couldn't bear it anymore. Queen Fyora, the most dignified being in all of Neopia, fled back to her sanctuary, and wept.
"I swear these things are rigged!" Illusen was seething by the time she reached her Glade. She slammed her door, and screamed. Everywhere, there were purple and green forget-me-nots. She noticed a bouquet of them roughly the size of Kreludor sitting on her table. She picked up the card.
Do you remember that time at Queen Fyora's birthday party, when you got covered in purple and green slime, and couldn't get it out of your hair and skin for a month? I really didn't mean for that to hit you. Seriously, that was meant for erm, someone else. So I have given you these forget-me-nots forgive-me yeses as your Secret Cybunny gift. Have a dreadful Easter!
"I hate her! I loathe her, despise her! I still don't see why Queen Fyora hasn't banished her yet!" The injured Petpets in Illusen's care shrank back from their guardian; none of them willing to comfort her, for fear that the large flowers would fly in their direction.
That's when Illusen's eyes gleamed. This was not the kindly twinkle we have seen often, but a malevolent sparkle that was most associated with Jhudora.
"That's it! Oh, sweet inspiration!" Illusen grinned evilly as she picked up a sheet of paper the color of just-bloomed violets, and a dark lilac pen given to her as a birthday gift from the Queen herself.
I am afraid your tricks have occurred once too many times. It was a painful decision, yes, but one that is completely necessary. You shall leave Neopia, and take up residence in a lovely little shack on the barren side of Kreludor. We send this letter, along with a lovely bouquet of Cheery Plants and a little Faerie Juma to keep you company.
Lars, better known as the Happiness Faerie, ripped the Easter basket apart with glee. "Whoopsy Daisy!" The stuffing of a complimentary teddy bear floated in the air, amid green plastic grass. Her smile faltered as she saw the Nova wand. She picked it up, fingered it, and gave it an experimental wave. A mini Nova flew out of the large Nova, and landed at her feet. It twinkled and spun, squeaking a faint 'Have a wonderful day!' when Lars reached down to touch it.
Lars's smile grew until it engulfed her entire face. She raced out of her house. "THANK YOU, MIRA!"
The day was over. Havoc had been wreaked when Illusen had "banished" Jhudora, a rising panic was stirred from the thousands of squeaking Novas suddenly appearing, and a servant was currently in a psychiatric ward after seeing Queen Fyora cry.
And in spite of all this, in spite of herself, Queen Fyora smiled. "Perhaps they like the Secret Cybunny Giveaway more than they think," she whispered.
All was well.