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Neopia's Fill in the Blank News Source | 13th day of Eating, Yr 23
The Neopian Times Week 5 > Continuing Series > Stories of Snow: Part Two

Stories of Snow: Part Two

by twistedcitrus

So she gathered her largest satchel and put on her warmest coat and began her trek down the mountain. She had a map of the ice caves so she would not get lost, she was amazed at all the crystalline beauty.

She finally reached a large cave, where a huge block of ice rested in its center. She studied it closely, making notes in her journal. A strange looking creature was trapped inside. As she made her way around the mammoth block she came upon the strangest look hut.

Pausing only briefly to put her journal away she knocked on the door.

“Come in! Come in!” a voice echoed eerily.

“Hello?” She peered through the opened door.

“Oh ‘ello.” A green haired woman popped around the corner, wearing the strangest of clothes. “Are you here for the Neggery? Cuz I’m still working at it.” The woman sighed, tugging on her pointed ears.

“A what?"

“Neggery, you know neggs.” She pulled out a large egg shaped fruit, only much larger. The woman looked at her strangely. “Haven’t you heard of neggs?”

“Um no…” She felt quite foolish.

“Hmmm you must not be from around her then.” The woman sighed. “I am Negia the Negg Faerie. And you are?”

“Frosta from the mountain.” She shook Negia’s hand.

“Hmm, you wouldn’t happen to know what happened to the neggs in happy valley would you?”

“I’m sorry? Where?”

“The mountain valley.” Negia looked perplexed.

“Oh no I’m from the summit of the mountain.”

Negia’s mouth dropped and she pointed uselessly toward the tunnels. “From way up there?” Her voice came out in a squeak.

“Well, yes, is that so odd?” Frosta asked scowling.

“Girl, have we got to talk.” Negia pulled Frosta into the hut.

You see the summit of Terror Mountain was shrouded in legend and myth. What Frosta did not know was that she, herself, was part of it. For how many normal people lived for hundreds of years? Anyway Negia questioned Frosta extensively. It became quite apparent to Negia that Frosta was the last of a race of Faeries quite forgotten. She tried to convince Frosta to travel with her to the Cloud Kingdom known now as Faerieland. Of course Frosta was hesitant. She never had left the mountain and wanted to finish her research.

In the end Negia convinced her to go. When they reached Happy valley, they spent several days looking over the shops and marvels that Frosta had never seen. However it became quite apparent several days later that something was quite amiss.

“You look awful,” Negia said to Frosta.

“I feel odd.” Indeed she did, she had left off her coat for though it was cold in the valley it was not as brutal as the mountaintop. But still she felt terribly warm and quite limp.

“Perhaps you’ll feel better when you reach Faerieland.” Negia was feeling quite proud of her ‘discovery’ as she put it and did not want anything to happen.

“Perhaps.” Was all Frosta could say.

So a day later they packed their belongings and had started descending into what is now known as Neopia. Frosta was feeling quite dizzy and would have tumbled down the slope had not a young man from below caught her.


“I bet it was great-great-great-gramppa!” Elsa squealed clapping her hands.

“Hey don’t interrupt!” Drake and Talon chorused.

“Shall we proceed or shall I stop?” Faerelle asked quietly.

“I say we break for cookies and hot chocolate,” a rich velvety voice rumbled from the doorway.

“Fa!” Elsa all but flung herself at her father, neatly stepping on the heads of several animals. “Mum is telling a story!”

“So I heard.” Wicked silver eyes gleamed at his wife, who glanced at him coolly.

“Will you get the chocolate and cookies or are you going to stand there?” she asked quite evenly.

“For you milady the world.” He bowed bundling Elsa under one arm. “Come along Frostbite, help me carry the food.” Elsa grinned and stuck her tongue out at her brothers who grumbled but were too comfortable to move.

“Men,” Gram snorted. “Foolish nonsense.” A twinkle lit her silver eyes. “Just like his father.”

Faerelle grinned. “Not at all like his mother then?”

“Well, were else do you think he got his looks?” The old woman chuckled.

“From your mother perhaps?” The Eyrie Phiora asked innocently. She was a favourite of Gram, being the only one strong enough to carry the old woman about Neopia.

“Daft creature.” Gram snorted. “It’s the females that pass on the looks in this family.” She waved a thin hand at her grandchildren. “Were else do ya think they got those black locks.”

“Certainly not from me.” Faerelle smiled, her own red-brown locks were pinned in a becoming twist.

“Ah but they have your eyes.” He entered, bearing trays of steaming chocolate.

“I had to have some say in the matter.” Her blue eyes twinkled.

“And in everything it seems.” He grinned unrepentantly at her.

“Oh behave yourself Hunter.” Gram snapped as she took her coco from her son.

“Don’t I always mum?” He dropped a kiss in her silver hair.

“Cookies!” Elsa chimed as she carried a large platter of fragrant sweets. “And no hogging!”

Once they were all settled with cookies and coco, Faerelle once again began her story.

“Ah, yes where were we?”

“The mushy part…” Drake muttered around a mouthful of cookie.

“So it would seem…” She nodded.

To be continued...

Previous Episodes

Stories of Snow: Part One

Stories of Snow: Part Three

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