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by becauseofreasons |  | 12 Books To Read Your Baby Neopet This Holiday SeasonBrought to by the Neopian Book Award Association. The holiday season is upon us, and there is no better gift for your Baby Neopet than the gift of knowledge.
by spitfyre_momma |
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"The Emerald Deep" by parody_ham
Snow. How quaint a sight. How it glows in the light of the full moon. In my arms, a bundle of blankets stirs and a little face, that of a bleary-eyed Baby Eyrie, pokes up as if to question the fuss around him. Why his mother sang such a haunting tune, or his father surrounded them with a ring of makeshift candles. We decorated a juniper tree with ornaments made of hardtack, red berries, and garlands of moss—such, my partner, Mariana, informed me, was a holiday tradition of Meridell. What they called “The Day of Giving.” We of the Citadel called it the Day of Darkness. Mariana, the Moon’s Rising. A time of reflection, of hope, of new beginnings. Setarian’s first of many, or so we wished. Looking back, it’s fitting that I met Mariana during the Month of Collecting. Fall colours—something I had not experienced until the Great War—swirled around me like things possessed. Aimlessly wandering, fallen from their tree on high to the dusty ground below. I felt their sorrow, knowing that I, too, could never find comfort from the branches above me. A Darigan, fallen. Leaving my family, my friends, and my life behind, for the hope that isolation could bring me peace of mind. Knowing full well that if I returned there, I would be branded one of Kass’ defectors, one of the thorns he had sworn to pluck from the vine.
Other Stories
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 The Emerald Deep
"Snow. How quaint a sight. How it glows in the light of the full moon. In my arms, a bundle of blankets stirs and a little face, that of a..."
by parody_ham |
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The Twelve Days of Giving
"Fresh snow crunched in a thin layer beneath Suhel’s paw pads as she stepped out of the Eyrie cab and onto the cobblestones of Barrowmere. Multi-storeyed buildings rose above her, bedecked with holly garlands and shiny gold bells, and..."
by cosmicfire918 |
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 Knight & Squire: Preface
"Rowan’s arms popped as he stretched them above his head. He let out a huge yawn, not caring that he looked like a horrified Quiggle. He slumped on the wooden bench he was sitting on..."
by terpsichorean_writer |
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