Stolen Crown Chronicles

      Approaching Jhudora’s door, she sighed and began to knock, as her knuckles brushed the wooden door Jhudora opened it with an evil grin. “Oh Fyora, what a wonderful surprise,” she cackled.

     “Jhudora, I am strapped for time... I need my crown back, your trick was very funny but it is over now.” Fyora held her hands out awaiting her crown to be placed into them.

     “Oh your crown.. See I don’t have it,” Jhudora replied shrugging at her.

     Fyora groaned and looked her in the eyes, “I just saw you Jhudora, you came into my castle, took the crown then came back here... It’s been about fifteen minutes, you cannot have lost it already.

     Jhudora smirked, “Oh, I didn’t lose it. I traded it!”

     “You...what,” spluttered Fyora. “Traded it to who?! For what?! You must be joking.”

     Jhudora began to giggle, “Nope, I really did trade it... To Lord Kass for this really cool sword,” she replied while holding up one of Kass’s many swords.

     Fyora began to groan once more, “Why would you give it to Lord Kass?” Fyora sighed and began her journey to Meridell, grumbling at Jhudora and contemplating turning her into a bobblehead once she returned to Faerieland.

      Ascending the stairs to Lord Kass’s home, she picked up the door knocker. Before she even had a chance to let it drop, Lord Kass was at the door looking very worse for wear. He blew his nose as he began to speak to Fyora, “Oh Fyora, if it is about your crown that ghastly Meuka was here... I gave it to him just to get him to go… *achoo* to go away but not before he gave me thi- *achoo* this dreadful cold,” he gasped, wiping the snot away from his beak.

     “You gave my crown… to Meuka,” groaned Fyora. “Great, I do not have time for this and I most definitely do not have time to catch a cold... Did you see where he was off to?” she asked, glaring up at Lord Kass.

     “Yes I… I think he said he was going to see Vira, you kn-- *achoo* know what she is like, incredibly vain, would love a crown,” he sniffed at her, blowing his nose once again. “You never know, she wou-- *achoo* would be a good queen of Faerieland.” He began to laugh to himself. Fyora made another mental note to come back and turn him into the whack-a-kass plushie before she turned and made her way to Vira’s home.

      Fyora slowly approached Vira’s home shrouded in the gloom of the quickly approaching afternoon fog. She caught sight of herself in one of the many mirrors that covered the backyard. She looked tired, drained... Not her usual regal self. She composed herself quickly and once again pressed her hand into a fist to knock on Vira’s door. The young Acara opened the door, wearing a stunning sparkling dress, a frown crossing her once beautiful face. “Oh it’s you, what do you want,” she asked abruptly, gazing up at Fyora sternly. Before Fyora could say why, Vira suddenly remembered, “Oh yeah your crown, it was very beautiful Fyora, I envisioned myself as the queen of Faerieland... I placed it on my head and the sight of the stunning crown on my head only amplified this ugly form I have become,” she stated bitterly. “I was going to just throw it out but the Spider Grundo was showing an interest. He spun me this beautiful gown of silk which is much more flattering than that overly sparkly jewel-encrusted crown,” she stated, matter of factly.

     “YOU GAVE IT TO THE SPIDER GRUNDO, WILL THIS DAY NEVER END,” bellowed Fyora, losing her patience.

     Vira smirked up at her, “now now, that is not how a Queen should behave.” She cackled, turning and returning to her house to probably admire herself once more.

     Fyora was getting desperate now, it was nearly dusk and she had so much to prepare for. Without a crown, how was she going to present a Festival? Begrudgingly, she turned to walk towards the Spider Grundo’s burrow, hopefully, to retrieve her crown and finish this drama once and for all.

     Fyora peered into the Spider Grundos hole, shuddering at the mass of web that was surrounding it. “Come out, I need to speak for you urgently,” she groaned.

     The Spider Grundo dropped from a nearby tree, blinking his big red eyes at Fyora, “Oh, the almighty QUEEN, what can I do for you, your highness,” he exclaimed.

     “I need my crown back, where have you put it?” she asked, exasperated at this point.

     “Ohh that old thing? I traded it to my master for a delicious supply of Virtupets finest delicatessen,” he shrugged at her, twiddling two of his eight legs.

     "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GAVE IT TO DR. SLOTH?!" Fyora cried in despair, placing her head in her hands. "I cannot believe I have been on a wild goose… well... crown chase and that it ends with Dr. Sloth."

     The Spider Grundo smirked up at Fyora, "Well, he is my master after all… all rulers do need a crown," he replied.

     Fyora scowled at him holding up her staff. "You are lucky I need to find my crown; otherwise, I would have turned you into a common house spider by now," she said while looking at him with a frown. She watched the Spider Grundo snicker as he crawled back into his house then stared up into the night sky at Virtupets Space Station. She shuddered, hopped into her cloud racer and began her ascent to the one place she had hoped not to go.

      Scowling, she stepped out onto the docking bay taking in her surroundings. She had taken but two steps when Dr. Sloth had appeared in front of her, crown perched atop of his head. "What do I owe this fine visit of Royalty to my humble abode?" he asked with a slight smirk covering his face.

     Fyora sighed, "You know why I am here Frank. It has been a long day and I need my crown back. We can stop with the fake pleasantries. You can hand it over and we can both go on with our days."

     Dr Sloth faked a hurt look, "Oh Fyora, you cannot be serious… I look FABULOUS in this crown… and I got it for such a good trade, whyever would I just give it up?"

     Fyora groaned and shook her head at him, "Sloth, what do you want... I really do not have time for this. The Faerie Festival is tomorrow and I have to look presentable, which I cannot do without my crown."

     Sloth beamed down at her menacingly, “Well, since this crown has been traded many times, maybe you can trade me something I want?”

     Fyora glared back at him, “And what POSSIBLY could someone like you want for it?”

     Sloth’s smirk somehow got larger, “I want to be a faerie, and join in the faerie festival.”

     “You what?” Fyora spluttered, thinking she had misheard him.

     “Yep, I want to be a faerie, join in the Faerie Festival, give out quests of evil and TAKE away from Neopians, not enhance them.”

     Fyora rolled her eyes at him, “Well, that isn’t going to happen Sloth, so think of something else''.

     “There is nothing else I want,” Dr Sloth growled. “Make me a faerie or I will be keeping the crown!”

     Fyora sighed defeatedly, she didn’t want to have to grant this trade but what choice did she have. Begrudgingly, she picked up her staff and aimed it at Dr. Sloth, “You have your trade,” she grumbled as light flew out of the staff engulfing Dr. Sloth in a cloud of rainbows and sunshine.

      As the cloud cleared she looked up at Dr Sloth and began to giggle, she held her hand out for her crown which fell into her hand. In her other hand, she held up a mirror for Dr. Sloth. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and began to smile, “Oh, it’s fantastic! I look marvellous,” he stopped and smirked up at her. “Now it is my turn to join the Faerie Festival and create havoc,” he laughed spitefully to himself.

     Fyora smirked back, “Well, you see Frank... My magic only works on those that are good so... You will not be invited to the Faerie Festival as only GOOD faeries can attend. However, every once in a while my magic will turn you into the happy little faerie you are, the Happiness Faerie. You don’t get to control the change, but I do.”

     Dr Sloth stared at her dimwitted, “WHAT DO YOU MEAN I WILL CHANGE WHENEVER?! I ONLY WANTED TO BE A FAERIE TO RUIN THE FESTIVAL!”

     Fyora giggled and placed her crown back on her head, “Enjoy your trade Frank, can’t wait to see how your henchmen react to your new look.” Before he had the chance to respond Fyora was in her Cloud Racer flying back to Faerieland, crown securely placed on her head.

     So what’s the moral of this story? Be careful what you wish for... It worked out for Fyora, but maybe Dr. Sloth should have made his wish on April Fools Day. That way, it would’ve been temporary and not permanent. All hail the Happiness Faerie!

     The End.

     By Devotedly & Tarons