The Secret Life of a Weak Bottled Faerie

      Weak Bottle Faeries - pet owners of Neopia think nothing of us, really. In our home, we can’t send you on quests or wait for you in a beautiful glade. Sure, we bless you with a special power that can help in battle, and be a really good night light when it gets dark. But for the most part, we simply sit, wait, and wish to be uncorked.

      For the most part.

      But it’s time that someone inform you about what it is we really do. Bottled Faeries are an anomaly of our own kind, because in our bottle, we don’t exist under the same rules that other citizens of Neopia do. It’s true – we can do whatever we want. And that makes us quite interesting for a trapped little thing, doesn’t it? In our respective bottles, we rule our own world, and most importantly, we observe yours too.

      Take for example, my owner’s day-to-day life. At half past eleven, Greta takes a stroll through the bazaar, visiting Hubert’s Hotdogs for a bite, and then the Smoothie Store to wash it down. She likes Wheatgrass because it keeps her and her pets healthy. Then she plays games, earning enough points to buy her a scratchcard from the Kiosk Wocky to try her luck. In all this time, she’ll never see me in her bag, watching and tussling about.

      But where’s all the power in that, you may ask. I’ll admit it, it doesn’t sound like much. In fact, it sounds awfully boring, I agree. But knowing your owner – inside and out – has its responsibilities.

      Being isolated means I don’t have much to do, so I make it my business to watch over my owner. Believe it or not, this is something all Bottled Faeries love to do – we watch over you and your pets, as best we can, like guardian angels. It might surprise you to know that we can help you out. We pay such close attention, we know right away when something is wrong. So when Greta decided to deviate from her usual schedule (something I noticed right away), to stroll through the Haunted Woods instead, I knew I had to be extra vigilant for her.

      Greta didn’t want a scratchcard from the Terror Mountain today. She wanted to try something new at the Desert Fairgrounds, of all places! But even in the middle of the afternoon, it’s always night time in the Haunted Woods. As we headed there, all of her pets and things in tow, I knew she was not going to make my job easy. For once, I hoped she would lose so we could get out of there, and fast!

      “Ssscratch off three of the sssame type and win!” Sidney hissed, handing her the small card.

      So Greta did, taking her time and raising my anxiety all the while. Before we knew it, Greta scratched off six different places – and won!

      “I won 3,000 neopoints!” she yelped happily. “Yahoo!”

      Sidney sent her off skipping happily, her pockets full of money. It jingled and rattled like an alarm, alerting all of the Haunted Wood’s finest thieves to come and see. A happy face in the gloom of the Haunted Woods? I knew it wouldn’t be long until someone or some thing came along to wipe it off. But of course, Greta was too oblivious to care how positively distracting this was.

      Soon enough, I felt a shadow on our trail… a large, beastly shadow, whose long claws and wagging tail told me all I had to know. It was Balthazar the Bounty Hunter – and Faerie hunter extraordinaire.

      I squealed, not that Greta could hear me. “Look out!” I cried in vain. “Behind you!” But to her, it only sounded like a high pitched squeak, and that could’ve come from anywhere for all she knew.

      “Wonder what that was?” she said out loud, before continuing.

      Greta could hardly see me rattling. Clink, clink, clink! I frantically knocked on my bottle, trying my best to communicate what was lurking right behind us. Ding, ding, ding! But to no avail. The shadow loomed ever closer…

      “ROAR!” Balthazar growled, bounding out of the shadows. Greta nearly jumped out of her skin, and her pets fled in fear without any preamble. You would think she was all alone now, but she wasn’t. Greta still had me.

      He was larger than I ever imagined. I’ve heard stories, but none of them ever did capture the heinous and monstrous figure before me. Saliva, hungry for a good steal, dripped from his open mouth. “Give me everything you have!”

      “But I—“

      “NOW!” the horrid beast demanded.

      It was awful. Greta was shaking madly, frowning at her bulging pockets full of the money she intended to spend on more smoothies. Now the dream was fading, and she would be left nothing. I saw the sadness in her eyes, and I just knew I couldn’t let it happen.

      Though I fully understood the danger that a faerie like myself would be in if Balthazar noticed me, I began to shake up a storm. My bottle rolled around Greta’s bag, clinking and jingling like mad. Greta looked confused at all the commotion, but there was something in here that could scare the old beastie away. It had to be in around somewhere…

      “Hurry up!” Balthazar crowed.

      And hurry I tried. I could see it just a few inches away from me, separated by a few books and other knick-knacks. But time was running out, as poor Greta began to empty her pockets. With one, hulking roar of my own, I flung myself against the bottle, sending all of her things flying to the floor. More importantly, it sent another bottle crashing to the ground.

      “Aaaaaaaarghhhh!!!” Balthazar screamed, covering his eyes in pain.

      It worked. I could have killed us both, but it worked. Stream of Light illuminated everything in front of us, giving Greta a moment to spare. Without needing any urging from me, she whistled for her pets, and got out of there as fast as she possibly could. She ran and ran until she was out of breath, and back in the crowded safety of Neopia Central. It was clear the madness was well behind us.

      “That was really lucky,” she muttered to herself, patting her bag. “I must have a guardian angel in there!” In my bottle, I wiped my forehead thankfully. Another day of watching over her, done.

      So, for all you citizens of Neopia who think we don’t do much but sit around and twiddle our thumbs, think again. Free faeries can’t interfere with what goes on in Neopia, but us bottled ones can sure have our say. If you knew we secretly lived, watching out for you, helping you, and saving you – would you still think us weak?

      We don’t need your thanks or your praise. We’re fine to live the way that we are. But from now on, just remember: whenever you get out of a sticky situation by the skin of your teeth, think about the bottled faerie in your bag – her secret life could be what helped you get away!

      The End.