For as long as she could remember, Nuria had been different
from the other fire faeries. Her skin was always tanned and her hair forever shortened
with ragged ends. Why? Well, Nuria had special faerie wings. Emphasis on the special
When Nuria was born so long ago, upon a first
glance she had the normal, filmy wings of her fiery sisters but when she screwed
her pale face up and began to cry (as new babies often do), her wings burst into
flame. The nurse holding her immediately dropped her, crying out in pain at
her scalded hands, little Nuria plunging and bawling to a floor that happened
to be carpeted.
As one can imagine, the newborn's wings set
the rugs aflame causing everyone to panic since no one had encountered such
a child before. All crazy-meepit-land broke lose but after a while, Nuria stopped
howling and watched the chaos above her. The scene thrilled her and she began
to giggle. And while she giggled, the flames began to dissipate and extinguish
themselves as fire-fighting water faeries did their job.
From their safe places outside of the windows,
the faeries floated back in, watching the infant cautiously. Nuria was contently
sucking on her toes and listening to the twinkling of the bells attached to
a loop around her ankle.
"What are we to do?" whispered one faerie. "Surely,
this child cannot be raised with the rest of our young sisters?" More whispering
sounded between the spectators of this unexpected event.
"I will ask the Queen," Fuhnah stated and marched
But before she was out the door, Eithne stopped
her. "What do you going to suggest, sister?"
"She will not be safe in Neopia Central or in
Faerieland. We must send her somewhere where our element thrives. Hopefully
the Uber will speak with Fyora; I trust their counsel. How would you feel if
it came down to Nuria being sent to someone? If it happened to be you?"
"I guard the volcano," Eithne gasped. "I do
not have time for the fledgling. She must be sent to one who is very advanced,
"Then I won't bring up your name," Fuhnah concluded
and vanished through the doorway.
"This is a strange case, I must say," Fyora
"Indeed," Fuhnah continued, "but Your Majesty
must agree that it needs your counsel."
"Alright, what is it you request?"
"Where must we place her? Every time Nuria becomes
frustrated, her wings burst into flame and--"
"I get the picture," Fyora stopped her. "I suggest
Mystery Island as a safer place for little -- Nuria, was it?"
"Yes, Your Majesty." Fuhnah inhaled sharply.
"But Eithne has already said that she and the other resident faeries do not
have the -- abilities, to raise such a faerie."
"Then the Lost Desert is where Nuria goes,"
the Queen proposed.
"But who will look after her?"
"I will," said a silhouetted figure.
"You will look after the young one, Lady Aida?"
Fyora questioned. The hardly-wrinkled fire faerie stepped toward her sovereign.
When not shadowed, Aida had long curly, auburn hair and golden eyes that could
burn without fire. She wore tailored pants and corseted long-sleeved shirt that
matched her eye-colour.
"I haven't had something interesting to do in
a while, Your Majesty," she explained. "It would an honour to train this seemingly
hopeless infant. I've been wanting to get some sun lately anyway."
"Then it has been decided. Bring her out." A
Meerca produced the miracle child, who was sleeping wrapped snugly in a secure
fireproof blanket. He offered the baby to the seasoned fire faerie.
"Thank you," she said to him as she took Nuria
in her arms. "If Your Majesty will permit it, I would like to keep Nuria here,
in Faerieland, for the time being."
"Why do you request this?"
"I want her to have memories of her birthplace
before I take her somewhere more -- suitable to continue her extensive training.
Should she learn to control her advanced powers before we leave, I would also
request a year in the Academy."
Fyora thought for a moment, her brow furrowed.
"I will grant you housing here but I cannot guarantee that she will ever attend
"Thank you, Your Majesty." Aida bowed out of
the Receiving Hall. "Well." She turned her focus down to the dozing infant.
"I do believe we've got to go find that house that the queen bestowed to us,"
she cooed and walked out of the Faerie Palace.
As Fyora had promised, Nuria lived with Aida
for the first several years of her life in a small Neohome on the outskirts
of Faerieland. Fortunately, Nuria had taken to her guardian quite well and listened
intently to whatever she had to say. In return, Aida had immediately begun to
teach her eager student the art of being a faerie. No more freak fire wing attacks
or giant bouts of angry displeasure for this fire faerie. No, ma'am!
Nuria learned quickly and she learned that her
wings could be a gift but they usually were a curse. She never questioned Aida's
logic or reasoning because Aida was the only faerie to look at her, not her
wings. When she was equivalent to the human age of 8, Aida talked to the Academy's
board of directors. They outright refused to allow Nuria to attend. No matter
how much Aida pushed or how well Nuria passed the entrance exams, they could
not risk Nuria's wings or her temper.
And it wasn't like Nuria had a temper tantrum
every time she could not have or do something but it was the ridicule of her
peers that might start something horrible.
So Aida, enveloped in her fury and frustration,
whisked Nuria away to the Lost Desert where they were only known as a pair of
fire faeries who lived somewhere between the sand dunes.
"Lady Aida," Little Nuria whispered to her guardian,
"why are we here? It is so hot." She pulled at her dress, which was made of
fabric suited to the weather of Faerieland, not the dreadful summer heat of
the Lost Desert. Nuria barely reached Aida's waist and she ducked behind Aida's
legs to shield herself from the sun.
Aida dragged her back into the light. "Now,
now, you'll get used to the heat. Be happy it's warm here all year round, then
we won't get cold in the winter." The marketplace bustled around them.
"But I want to go home," Nuria pleaded in her
small voice. "There's too much sand," she complained.
"We are home, Nuria." Aida crouched in front
of her young charge. "And the sand - it's everywhere; get used to it. Here we
don't have to worry about hurting things with your wings. Here, people are used
to the heat. Come, we've got to go find our house. But first, we must get changed.
Ready?" she asked Nuria.
"Ready." Together they flourished their arms
and their dresses transformed into the sleeveless robes of the people around
them. "This is much better," sighed the small faerie. They quickly covered their
heads and took off into the deserted sand dunes. Nuria's wings burned bright
against the blue of the sky. The vast openness below her began to form thoughts
of home in her head.
For the next few hundred years, Nuria lived
in a secluded hut, her true identity only known to her sparse neighbours. The
rest of the desert town eventually thought she was just a rumour, a story passed
down the generations about a fire faerie whose wings were a most extraordinary
sight. It was said that her temper is something to be feared. But, who is to
know? Not many Neopians even know she exists, and the several that do, don't
know why she never returned to Faerieland even after Aida did.
However if you did happen to meet her, you shouldn't
get too close to her wings.