How To Give Faerie Quests

     The bus had been behind schedule, and now so was she. At least she hadn’t gotten on the wrong bus or missed her stop; she’d never really had to use the Faerieland transit system back when she’d been a light faerie, and she’d had a few mixups while learning to use public transportation.

     At last, Baelia burst into the community center.

     “Good morning,” said the Faerie Lenny receptionist at the front desk. “Can I help you?”

     “Y-yes,” said Baelia, trying to catch her breath. She glanced at the clock on the wall—she was already five minutes late. “I need to get to the, um, Quest-Giving Certification class.”

     “Right down that hallway, second door to the left,” said the Lenny, pointing.

     “Th-thanks,” said Baelia.

     She hurried down the hall, but hesitated at the door. She heard a voice from inside that was probably the instructor; there was probably no chance she could slip inside without being noticed.

     After wasting at least half-a-minute trying to gather her nerve, Baelia forced herself to open the door and try to enter as quietly as possible.

     “Ah, Baelia,” said the instructor—a tall, willowy air faerie with blue cat-eye glasses and ash-blonde hair pulled into a high bun—as soon as Baelia entered. “Glad you made it. I was starting to worry.”

     Baelia’s cheeks warmed. “Sorry,” she managed.

     “Don’t worry about it,” said the instructor. “Here’s the class materials.” She offered a few stapled-together papers to Baelia, who reflexively took them.

     “Take whatever seat you like,” the instructor continued. “I’m Lissabella, daughter of Kyralis, student of Ursalee, and I’ll be instructing your quest-giving certification class today. I was just going over the illustrious history of quest-giving before diving into all the nitty-gritty details of modern-day faerie quests.”

     Still flushing, both from the run here and embarrassment, Baelia slid into the closest seat on the right side of the classroom, a few rows back. The classroom was like so many other classrooms she’d sat in, with individual desks with each seat.

     She hadn’t especially enjoyed school, but at least she’d only have to take this single class to qualify as an official quest-giver.

     Baelia didn’t really want to be here, but…

     Maybe it wasn’t fair to say she had no choice. She could have refused, just like she’d refused to go back to crafting.

     Queen Fyora had been… kind. So very kind. She’d offered to let Baelia resume her employment at the palace. She’d even said it wasn’t necessary for Baelia to work on weaponry, which told Baelia that Fyora had almost certainly found the resignation letter Baelia had never finished writing before... well, before Jennumara happened.

     But the Queen had also assured Baelia that, given the nature of her current disability and the fact that it had occurred while Baelia was employed at the palace, even if she didn’t return to work, she was entitled to a stipend for as long as it took for Baelia to find a new name.

     If Baelia ever found a new name.

     In any case, Baelia didn’t technically have to work. Her stipend came out to a decent portion of what her previous salary had been; enough to live off of as long as Baelia was frugal and stayed in a less-expensive area. Baelia doubted that was standard practice; she suspected that Queen Fyora just felt bad enough about everything to offer Baelia special treatment.

     But Baelia hadn’t been willing to start crafting again. The thought of picking up her tools and enchanting objects with other people’s magic felt unbearable, even if crafting was the only thing Baelia had ever really been good at.

     But Queen Fyora had offered another option. She’d phrased it as a suggestion, of course, assuring Baelia that it was entirely up to her, but… if Baelia was willing, she could start offering quests to Neopians. No crafting would be involved, and even if Baelia couldn’t offer blessings herself, other quest-givers could assist Baelia by offering their blessings as needed.

     Constantly having to ask other faeries for favors hardly sounded appealing. Asking random Neopets for items didn’t sound great, either; she’d never given quests as a light faerie. But surely Baelia ought to do something to benefit society. She no longer had wings or magic, but… Tavi had never had either of those, and the Kyrii still had no problems making a living selling tea and herb blends. Plus she got dividends from the sales of a shampoo she’d helped formulate.

     Giving quests wasn’t a real job for most faeries; at best it was a way to get a few extra items or Neopoints. But quest-giving was at least somewhat useful to Neopia.

     And Baelia hated feeling useless.

     So here she was in a classroom full of faeries, feeling entirely too much like she was back at the Faerie Academy.

     There was even going to be a quiz at the end of today’s lesson.

     “So,” said Lissabella, “as I was saying, quest-giving has been an important part of faerie society since the earliest days of Neopia. It’s one way we can reaffirm our connection with Neopia as a whole and the Neopets who inhabit it with us. By requesting items and offering our blessings in return, we strengthen the bond between both our species and, in doing so, ward off the Wraiths.”

     “And build our plushie collections,” piped up a dark faerie a few seats down from Baelia.

     Lissabella looked at the dark faerie, giving her a slow, unamused blink. “Please hold off on comments and questions until requested. In any case,” she continued, looking back over the rest of the students, “By the end of today, I hope you will all be able to take pride in your role in maintaining the natural order by requesting a variety of mundane items from random Neopets. Now, if you’ll turn to the second page of the packet, let’s review the rules and regulations surrounding questing.”

     Baelia turned the page as requested, scanning the list.

     “As you probably know,” said Lissabella, “while a Neopet is on a faerie quest, they are unable to use Shop Wizard’s services. This is because of an ancient pact between the first generation of faeries and the original Shop Wizard.”

     “Seems kind of counterproductive,” the same dark faerie piped up again. “Asking Neopets for items, then making it harder for them to find those items.”

     “Again, please reserve any questions or comments for later,” said Lissabella. “But regarding your comment, there’s an excellent reason for that. By temporarily removing the easiest means of finding items, we encourage Neopets on quests to go to other, non-Shop Wizard Neopets, thus strengthening the bonds between Neopets alongside the bonds between Neopets and faeriekind. A noble goal, I’m sure you’ll agree.” After a moment’s pause, she added “Also, it encourages Neopets to complete our quests as quickly as possible to regain Shop Wizard access. The ban applies to all quests initiated by faeries themselves with no time limit.” Lissabella scanned the classroom. “Now. Any questions?”

     “So,” said the same dark faerie, “if I were to set up, like, a booth and offer time-limited quests on demand, my questers could use the Shop Wizard?”

     “Hypothetically, yes,” said Lissabella. “However, if you wished to do so, I’d strongly recommend relocating to a land that doesn’t already have a resident quest-giver of that type. In Faerieland, that niche is occupied by Jhudora, who, I’m told, does not welcome competitors. In addition, you’d be required to offer something other than an increase to a single specific stat to avoid being in direct competition with standard faerie quest-givers.”

     “Ugh,” said the dark faerie. “Why are there so many rules?”

     “Because we’re faeries,” said Lissabella. “Anyone else? No? All right, let’s move on.” She cleared her throat. “Each faerie element has been assigned a specific item type to request. Grooming items for air faeries, magic items for earth faeries, clothing for fire faeries, books for water faeries, collectible cards for light faeries, and toys for dark faeries. Oh, and—” Lissabella glanced down at her notes before finishing with “—and Petpets for grey faeries.”

     There was, so far as Baelia knew, exactly one grey faerie who’d be offering quests. Baelia tried not to shrink down in her seat as a few of her classmates turned to look at her.

     “It’s acceptable to request quest items for your own personal use, provided those items fit within your element’s assigned category,” said Lissabella. “If you don’t need a particular quest item, you can turn it in to the Quest Warehouse in exchange for either Neopoints or a voucher; vouchers can be exchanged for other turned-in quest items. You can also ask a friend of a different element to help if you need an item from their category. Just remember that you yourself can’t give quests for items outside of your assigned category.”

     “So many stupid rules,” the same dark faerie grumbled.

     Lissabella paused, frowning slightly before continuing. “To be fair to questers, it’s very important to request items of a reasonable rarity. Standard elemental faeries—and grey faeries—are only authorized to request items categorized below rarity level 70.” She paused a moment, glancing around the classroom until her gaze settled on the dark faerie in Baelia’s row who kept piping up. “I’m sure you’ll all agree that it’s unreasonable for an ordinary elemental faerie offering a small single-stat increase to request a rare item costing tens of millions of Neopoints.”

     The dark faerie in question looked suddenly uneasy.

     “Such a request, of course, will be refused outright by any reasonable Neopet,” Lissabella continued. “And any attempt to avoid this wholly-predictable outcome by threatening to transform that Neopet into something unpleasant if they don’t complete the quest will have consequences.”

     The dark faerie fidgeted in her seat, not meeting the instructor’s eyes.

     “Even if no actual hexing takes place, the first infraction will result in a fine, mandatory community service, the suspension of quest-giving privileges, and the need to re-take this class to renew your certification to give quests once your suspension expires,” Lissabella said. “In my humble opinion, that’s not nearly severe enough, but I don’t write the laws. I sincerely hope I don’t have to see any of you in this class again.”

     The dark faerie remained silent.

     “Are there any questions about that?” Lissabella asked.

     “How big is the fine? And how much community service?” asked a fire faerie in the front row.

     “Way more than you’d ever want,” said the dark faerie in Baelia’s row, slumping back in her seat.

     “Good answer,” said Lissabella.

     “But,” said a different dark faerie in the second row, “what if someone just kind of implies they might turn a Neopet into a Petpetpet, but they’re requesting a perfectly-reasonable, not-too-rare item? And they don’t plan to actually turn anyone into a Blechy?”

     Lissabella sighed. “In keeping with long-term precedent, mild verbal threats of hexing don’t incur legal penalties provided the requested item is within the rarity limit, the threat itself can be reasonably perceived as facetious, and the faerie making the threat doesn’t follow through. However, the High Elemental Councils of Air, Earth, Fire, Water, and Light do not condone such behavior. In severe cases, they may censure faeries of their respective elements who behave in a manner considered unbecoming of their element.”

     “But... it’s fine if you’re a dark faerie?” said the dark faerie in the second row.

     “Apparently, threats of that nature are in keeping with ancient dark faerie traditions,” said Lissabella. “So yes. As long as your threats never extend beyond mere words—it’s strictly forbidden to use magic, such as fear-inducing spells, to reinforce the threat—and you’re not blatantly trying to extort someone into spending millions of Neopets on your rare plushie collection, you’ll be fine.”

     This seemed a little strange to Baelia, but even with all the time she’d spent with Delina, Baelia hardly knew much about dark faerie traditions.

     Of course, Delina wasn’t exactly a traditional dark faerie.

     “Anyways, moving on,” said Lissabella, “just as each element of faeries has a specific item type they can request, they likewise have a specific blessing they’re authorized to provide. Air faeries grant speed, fire faeries grant strength, water faeries grant defence, dark faeries grant endurance, and light faeries grant level increases. Earth faeries are a special case; at this time they’re permitted to grant either strength, defence, or speed. Oh, and grey faeries can request any standard elemental quest-giver to provide their standard blessing in her stead. Or Naia, if she’s available.”

     Baelia, who knew this already, nodded.

     “Now,” said Lissabella, “when selecting who to offer your quests to, it’s important to keep your blessing type in mind. For instance, many Neopets have chosen to offer themselves up as test subjects for a particular mad Scorchio scientist’s ray-shooting device. These pets are relatively easy to spot; you’ll notice they have high endurance and bulky muscles, but they’re at an unusually low level and look like they don’t know how to take a punch. Or dodge one, but for some reason people don’t seem to care about that. So, light and water faeries should try to avoid Neopets that show signs of long-term lab ray exposure, fire and dark faeries should seek them out, if possible, and earth faeries should make sure to provide strength or movement boosts, not defence.”

     A water faerie in the front row raised her hand. “That doesn’t seem right. If a Neopet has lots of strength but low defence, shouldn’t we try and help make their defence stronger?”

     “No,” said Lissabella. “Any pet who continues using the lab ray after experiencing such uneven stat increases clearly prefers those few select stats. As quest-givers, we should try to respect that. It’s understandable if you slip up from time to time; the signs of lab ray usage can be subtle. But for the most part, light and water faeries should avoid offering their blessings to such Neopets. Oh, and grey faeries should avoid asking you for said blessings.”

     This really didn’t seem right to Baelia, either, but she wasn’t about to push the issue any further.

     “And since I’m on the topic,” said Lissabella, “in your case, Baelia, since you’re able to ask Naia to reward Neopets for your quests, I want you to try to offer Naia’s reward primarily to Neopets who already have difficult-to-obtain colors.”

     “Is… there a reason for that?” Baelia asked.

     Lissabella nodded. “Of course; it’s the same basic rationale as I just gave regarding Neopets with lab ray exposure. A Neopet who has a fancy paint job clearly places a high value on appearances. Neopets with basic or inexpensive colors obviously place greater value on other things, such as stats. Therefore, requesting Naia’s rewards primarily for the former group will lead to greater overall satisfaction, which is important to maintaining the faerie-Neopet bond.”

     Baelia nodded, though she still didn’t quite agree.

     “Also,” said Lissabella, “for light faeries in particular, we recommend that you avoid offering quests to any Neopets between levels 201 and 250.”

     “Wait,” said a light faerie in the second row, “If we want to offer stat increases to Neopets who already have a lot of those stats, shouldn’t we want to give levels to Neopets with a lot of levels already?”

          “In normal cases, yes,” said Lissabella. “And once a Neopet hits level 251, you can feel free to offer quests again. However, Faerieland has an informal agreement with Mystery Island to ensure that demand for basic tan codestones remains high, so once a Neopet is at a level where they’re using 8 codestones per class at the Mystery Island Training School, it’s considered polite to refrain from offering level-increasing quests until they’re past level 250.”

     This also didn’t seem right to Baelia, but when Lissabella said “All right, any questions on that topic?” Baelia didn’t bother speaking up.

     “Wonderful,” said Lissabella. She reached behind the desk at the front of the classroom and pulled out a stack of papers. “Now, we’ll just have a quick quiz to make sure you’ve all been listening.”

     Of course. There always had to be a quiz.

     “Once you’ve finished the quiz and turned it in to me,” said Lissabella as she passed the quizzes out, “you’re free to leave. As long as you meet a minimum score of 80%, you’ll receive your quest certification in the mail within two to six weeks. Please note that offering quests prior to receiving your certification may result in penalties including the confiscation of all quest-related items and mandatory community service.”

     The quiz was insultingly easy. Baelia whizzed right through the dozen multiple-choice questions, returned it to Lissabella, and slipped out of the classroom.

     All things considered, that had been simpler than Baelia had expected, though also somewhat-concerning in ways she hadn’t expected. Still, at least it was over.

     As she sat on the bus, watching the streets of Faerieland pass by, a thought struck her: Wait, if I’m not technically a light faerie anymore, am I allowed to threaten to turn Neopets into Blechies?

     It didn’t really matter either way, Baelia supposed; she disliked the idea of threatening Neopets, even if no one would probably take her seriously.

     She’d just stick to asking nicely. That seemed like the best option.

     When Baelia finally got home (thanking her lucky stars once again that her stipend meant she didn’t have to move back in with her mother), Tavi greeted her as she opened the door.

     “Hey, B,” said Tavi. “I just put the kettle on to boil; want me to make you a cup of tea?”

     Tavi was staying with Baelia for the time being; Baelia had invited her to stay until Tavi was ready to start her next trip around Neopia.

     “Sure,” said Baelia, sitting down at the kitchen table. “Do you still have that strawberry mint blend?”

     “Sure do!” said Tavi, pulling a second mug out from Baelia’s cabinet, wincing as it squeaked. “Remind me to oil that hinge later on. Anyways, how was your quest class?”

     “Um. Good?” said Baelia. “Probably? I’m pretty sure I passed, anyways, but I need to wait for my official results and my license before I can start giving out quests.”

     Tavi chuckled as she measured some tea out into Baelia’s teapot (which, like pair of mugs on the counter, had been a gift from Tavi). “So much bureaucracy! I used to think faeries just gave out quests whenever they wanted somebody else to run their errands for them.”

     “Well, it can work like that,” said Baelia “You just have to take a class and get a license, first.”

     “Still, it seems kind of silly that you have to take a class to teach you how to ask for things,” said Tavi. “But I guess I’m not a faerie. Did you learn anything new, at least?”

     She had, in fact, learned a few new things.

     But she wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about all of them right now.

     “They’re pretty serious about faeries only asking for items of a certain type and rarity range,” said Baelia.

     “What, do they throw you in the dungeon if you ask for the wrong thing?” Tavi asked.

     “I don’t think so,” said Baelia. “But they might make you retake the class. And maybe pay a fine and do community service, depending on how badly you’ve messed up.”

     “So,” said Tavi, “how long until you’re officially licensed?”

     “The instructor said certifications would go out in two to six weeks,” said Baelia.

     The kettle whistled; Tavi carefully poured the hot water into the teapot to steep the tea.

     “How long are you planning to stay in Faerieland?” Baelia asked.

     Tavi shrugged as she set the kettle down. “I’m not sure. Why? Getting sick of me?” she said, smiling.

     “Of course not!” said Baelia. “I was just wondering.”

     “Well,” said Tavi, “maybe after you get your license. I want to make sure you’re all set before I hit the road again.”

     “I…” Baelia started, then fell silent. After a moment, she continued “...do you think you might want to come back and visit, sometime?”

     “Of course!” said Tavi. “And when I’m not here, I’ll make sure to write whenever I can. Maybe one of these days you’ll be willing to hit the trails with me.”

     “I’m not really the hiking type,” said Baelia.

     Neither of them mentioned Jennumara, who was still somewhere out there and who still haunted Baelia’s nightmares.

     When Baelia and Tavi got to Faerieland after their escape from Jennumara’s mountain, the two of them had gotten an audience with Queen Fyora where they’d informed her of all that had happened. The Queen had seemed deeply troubled, but had assured them that she’d provide whatever magical protection she could.

     Baelia could only hope it would be enough to keep Tavi safe outside of Faerieland.

     “If you’re still here when I get my license,” said Baelia, “do you want to be my first quester?”

     “Sure!” said Tavi. “Sounds like fun. You’re supposed to ask for Petpets, right?”

     Baelia nodded. “And I can ask other quest faeries to give rewards for me.” She paused a moment. “Are you… happy being a Red Kyrii?”

     Tavi laughed. “I wouldn’t want to be anything else. Besides, my face is already on a shampoo bottle, so changing it might confuse people. What, were you going to try and get me a dip in the Rainbow Fountain?”

     “Maybe,” said Baelia. “If you wanted.”

     “Well, it’s nice of you to offer,” said Tavi. “But I’m all right. Besides, you probably don’t want to show too much favoritism to your friends, right?”

     “Oh. Right,” said Baelia, flushing. “Probably not.”

     Would that sort of thing get her community service, too?

     “A normal blessing’s just fine,” said Tavi.

     Baelia nodded. “Okay. Sounds good.”

     Once the tea was finished steeping, Tavi filled both their mugs, setting them both down on the kitchen table. “Want me to grab the honey?”

     “Yes, please,” said Baelia. Tavi usually preferred her tea plain, but Baelia had an undeniable sweet tooth.

     Once Baelia had honeyed up her tea and they’d both waited for their tea to cool to a non-scalding temperature, they both sipped in silence for a minute.

     “Tavi?” said Baelia, setting her mug down.

     “Yeah?” said Tavi.

     “...thank you,” said Baelia.

     For the tea. For the company. For letting her try out this whole quest-giving thing on a friend.

     For a life spent outside the bars of a cage.

     For all the things she’d never, ever be able to repay.

     Tavi grinned. “Anytime,” she replied.

     Baelia took another sip of her tea. It was delicious, as usual.

     “And...” said Baelia. “If any faerie ever tries to bully you into getting them something expensive by saying they’ll turn you into something bad, I’ll… um…” She tried to think of something appropriate.

     “I’ll… fight them for you,” Baelia finished.

     Tavi looked bemused for a moment. Then she laughed. “Don’t worry about it, B. I’ve gotten dark faerie quests before. The threats are part of the charm.”

     Now it was Baelia’s turn to be confused. “I… okay.”

     “No offense, but faeries are kind of funny sometimes, you know?” said Tavi.

     After a moment, Baelia nodded. “Yes. They are. I mean, yes, we are.” She gave Tavi a small smile. “As long as I’m not too funny for you to hang around with.”

     “I think you’re exactly the right amount of funny,” said Tavi, lifting her mug as if to toast her.

     Baelia smiled a little wider. “Thanks.” The corners of her eyes crinkled. “So are you.”

     Grinning, Tavi held out her mug towards Baelia, and Baelia clinked her mug against Tavi’s.

     “Cheers to both of us,” said Tavi. “And to being exactly funny enough.”

     Together, the two friends finished their tea.

     The End.