The Sweetest Night of the Year

     I lifted the envelope carefully with my trembling claws, its faint scent of cocoa lifting off the letter up to me, sending a shiver down my tail. Inside, the words read: “You are cordially invited to the Annual Chocolate Ball.”

     I squealed so loudly, I startled a flock of Beekadoodles off the neighbour’s roof.

     The Annual Chocolate Ball. The legendary gala Neopia whispered about every September. I’d read every article the Neopian Times ever printed on it: gowns sculpted from pure chocolate, fountains that poured endlessly, feats that could topple a Skeith. But invitations? Scarcer than a Darigan Draik Egg at auction. For a Shoyru like me who usually spent more time working and window shopping than attending exclusive galas, it felt like a dream.

     When the night finally came, my wings were trembling with nerves. I slipped into my outfit: a Chocolate Tuxedo, stitched with dark chocolate-covered thread and decorated with the finest chocolate Neopia could offer. I decorated my wings with tiny sugar crystal beads, it wasn’t the finest, but when the sugar crystals caught the light when I moved my wings, it made the entire room glisten.

     This year the Annual Chocolate Ball as it is usually held within the mysterious Chocolate Factory every year, has been enchanted by Queen Fyora herself to float above Faerieland for a new exclusive location. As a Shoyru, I was able to fly up past Faerieland, where I noticed Chocolate Unis galloping along the clouds, ferrying guests who did not have wings of their own. An aroma of chocolate filled the air as guests were arriving with anticipation.

     I flew towards the ballroom of the Chocolate Factory and nearly forgot how to flap my wings. I was in sheer shock by the elaborate interior decorations and how everything was made out of icing, chocolate, and sugar crystals.

     The chandeliers were made of chocolate and coated with sugar crystals, which illuminated the ballroom. There were chocolate fountains flowing at every corner, and at the very center of the ballroom stood a chocolate sculpture of Queen Fyora, made of milk chocolate with white chocolate accents covered in sugar crystals that glittered like diamonds.

     I had to remind myself where I was and not to drool around members of Neopia’s high society.

     The first thing I noticed after all of the decorations were the outfits and gowns. Neopians drifted past in outfits that only seemed to belong in a dream. An Aisha wore a gown made from layers of thin chocolate sheets, fluttering like silk when she moved. A Blumaroo hopped by in what I swear was a chocolate eclair costume with a custard trim. A Kougra walked past wearing a chocolate suit with a caramel cape that shimmered in the light. My wings twitched at the thought of accidentally brushing against it and sticking forever.

     Suddenly, a hush fell across the room as Queen Fyora entered. The Faerie Queen’s gown was a violet silk adorned with roses sculpted from chocolate, each flower dusted with edible faerie glitter. She was elegant herself, though I heard one bold Draik mutter, “I bet it melts if she stands too close to the fountain.”

     Not far behind came Jhudora in her dark chocolate gown, gleaming in the light of the chandelier, streaked with eerie green frosting that matched her eyes. She leaned on a staff crowned with a glowing candied crystal. The temperature around her felt colder, somehow. Whispers spread like wildfire: she’d only come to outshine Fyora. From her glare, I suspected it was true.

     My wings carried me toward the buffet tables before my brain even agreed. The air there was heavenly. The truffles were stacked into pyramids, glittering like jewels. Chocolate fountains flow while surrounded by fruit and marshmallows to be dipped. A server floated by with a tray of chocolate-dusted Altadorian Olives, an invention I’d only heard about in rumours.

     I popped one into my mouth. The taste was…bizarre. Sweet yet salty, bitter but tangy, it was like half of Neopia’s flavours had collided in my mouth all at once. I wasn’t sure if I liked it or hated it, but my wings fluttered in confusion either way.

     “Watch out for the exploding bonbons,” warned a Uni server, nodding to a tray of suspiciously sparkling candies. “Last year, one set fire to a guest’s wig.”

     I backed away politely. I like a little explosion, but not the kind that leaves scorch marks.

     As I nibbled on a chocolate-dipped strawberry, I overheard two well-dressed guests whispering about the origins of the Annual Chocolate Ball.

     “Did you know,” said one of them, “it all started with the Chocolate Factory Kiko in Year 6? A small shop party, just a handful of Neopians celebrating chocolate.”

     “And now it’s this,” replied the other, sweeping a paw to gesture at the glittering ballroom. “Fyora herself attends. Even King Skarl, though you remember the Year 8 disaster, don’t you?”

     I leaned in without meaning to in order to hear this juicy gossip, my tail curling tighter around the chair leg.

     “He mistook a chair for the buffet,” the guest said. “He took a giant bite right out of it. Nearly collapsed under someone else before they replaced it.”

     I snorted a bit mid-bite of my strawberry, nearly choking. Only King Skarl.

     Of course, no Chocolate Ball is complete without some drama. Tonight came courtesy of an ambitious Nimmo fashion designer. He swept in wearing what looked like a magnificent chocolate-silk gown, shimming like tempered chocolate. Gasps followed him wherever he went.

     Until a curious Aisha tugged at the hem.

     The fabric ripped, revealing plain brown cloth painted to look like chocolate.

     “Counterfeit!” someone shouted.

     Gasps echoed throughout the ballroom. The Nimmo muttered excuses, his face turning nearly as red as a Fire Shoyru before fleeing towards the exit. His painted gown left ugly streaks of melted dye along the polished floor.

     Besides me, a Gelert in a truffle-patterned waistcoat sniffed. “Every year, someone tries it. And every year, they’re caught. You can’t fake chocolate.”

     I agreed, trying not to laugh.

     When the orchestra struck up at midnight, the great dance began. I flew towards the floor, nervous, but a graceful Kougra beckoned me with a smile. Before I knew it, my wings were carrying me in time with the music. The dance floor was covered with everyone wearing caramel capes and chocolate silk, sugar-beaded gloves and frosted tiaras.

     For a moment, it didn’t matter that my tuxedo wasn’t this year’s brand of chocolate or that my sugar beads weren’t spun by faeries. I was part of it. Part of Neopia’s sweetest tradition.

     Even when my tail nearly knocked over a server, no one cared. The music was calming, the chocolate sweet, and the night too perfect.

     When the final dance ended, the grand chocolate sculpture of Queen Fyora was revealed for its ultimate fate: dessert. Servers passed out silver spoons, and the crowd surged forward, chipping away bits of milk chocolate, caramel swirls, and glittering sugar.

     Even Fyora herself took a bite of her chocolate likeness with a serene smile. Jhudora scowled but still pocked a shard of dark chocolate roses.

     I managed to snag a piece of the gown’s trim. It melted on my tongue instantly. It was smooth and sweet with a spark of faerie magic. For just a brief moment, I thought I heard laughter, like the ghost of the Chocolate Factory Kiko himself was watching his little party blossom.

     As the evening was coming to an end, the guests began to depart, receiving a goodie bag as they exited the chocolate factory, everyone’s evening attire stickier than when they’d arrived. Everyone’s faces were flushed with chocolate and laughter.

     I floated by the doorway, wings stretched wide, gazing back one last time at the fountains and the chandeliers. I opened my goodie bag to find an array of gourmet chocolates that hadn’t been seen for years. I was shocked to find Chococherry Blumaroo Ears and a Chocoon. This was some of the most expensive chocolate all of Neopia could taste.

     Tomorrow, the gossip will spread like wildfire. Rumours of counterfeit gowns, complaints about chocolate-dusted Altadorian Olives, speculation about Queen Fyora and Jhudora’s eternal rivalry.

     But for me? None of that mattered.

     What mattered was that I’d been there. That I’d danced, laughed, tasted, and marvelled at everything going on until my wings ached.

     The Chocolate Ball wasn’t just about chocolate. It was about Neopia, its creativity, its chaos, its joy.

     As I soared back into the Faerieland night, stars glittering like sugar above me, I whispered to myself: “Until next year.”

     The End.