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The Wise King and The Wise Guy Wocky


by aracro

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Some odd years ago, in the lush, prehistoric jungles of Tyrannia.

     There was a wocky who could beat any other Tyrannian pet in a contest of brains. This Wocky could speak very fluent Neopian and could read almost any book. But the other Tyrannian pets hated this gifted Wocky. They were jealous of his brains and looked down on him for his lack of brawn. They would call him;

     “Ugga Ugh Argh!”

     A nickname that the Wocky grew to resent.

     The Wocky began to resent his Intelligence like the others did. So he would hide his genius and only let his wit show through biting sarcasm and an apathetic attitude.

     Until one very peculiar night.

     “Uggah flood Uggah!!”

     The village leader shouted. The rain poured down from the sky in waves.

     The Wocky tried to swim to safety but he found himself swept away by the enormous amounts of water.

     He found himself drifting at sea. With nothing to occupy his time but his mind for three very long days and four very long nights.

     On the sunrise of the fourth day. He found himself washed up on the shore of Meridell.

     “Whoa. What is that?!”

     Shouted a confused voice.

     The Wocky opened his eyes to see an Ixi standing over him with a stick.

     ‘Oh wow! You’re awake!”

     The Ixi Dropped her stick and jumped back in surprise.

     “No, I’m not awake. I am very clearly sleeping. Can’t you tell?’

     “Wow, I’ve never seen a Tyrannian Wocky before!”

     “Gee I wonder why…”

     The Wocky snarked as he got up and looked around.

     “Meridell huh? Guess It could be worse..”

     The Ixi looked shocked.

     “I thought Tyranians spoke in ‘ugh’s?”

     “Yeah well who said I can’t. I just chose not to.”

     “I think the kingdom over, might like to have you.”

     The Ixi said excitedly.

     “What? Brightvale? Why?”

     “Because you seem smart. And you could translate some Tyrannian scripts that my brother at the university is looking for.”

     "Really?!"

     The Wocky paused for a moment before regaining his composure.

     "What's the catch?"

     He asked sceptically.

     "Catch?"

     "Yeah. What are you? A Pawkeet? Stop repeating everything I say."

     The Ixi looked taken aback.

     "So you don't want to go to Brightvale?"

     The Wocky looked at her shocked.

     "What?! No, I want to go! It's...Nevermind."

     "Well then what are we waiting for? Let's go!"

     But before the Wocky could get another quip in. The Ixi had already bounded to Brightvale.

     Hours later. the Wocky finally caught up to her.

     "Wow, you're quick! I'm guessing you run a lot?"

     The Ixi hushed him.

     "You might want to keep that sarcasm to yourself. You're about to meet King Hagan."

     The Wocky looked rather shocked. The colour faded from his eyes as his paws were covered in a nervous sweat.

     "I'm not going in with you, so you better shape up and get it together."

     But the Wocky couldn't say anything. He was paralyzed with fear.

     As the guards pulled him up to the castle. He was still sweating. It dripped off his body like a thick, soggy mucus that coated his fur.

     His mind raced like a speeding chariot. Everything he could ever have wanted in his life would be judged by this very moment.

     The time had finally arrived. He was in the midst of King Hagan's throne room.

     "So this is the Tyrannian I've heard so much about."

     The Wocky gulped a nervous gulp. Every possible phrase he could say to this king was running through his mind.

     "Well. What wisdom do you have for us? Or is this another cruel prank by my immature brother?"

     The Wocky searched through his mind for wisdom to share. But all he could think fo was the half-joking, snarky, piece of wisdom that he would often joke about in his youth.

     And with all that nervousness building up onto the Wocky's mind. He let it slip out.

     "You can't stand on any stairs backward."

     The room fell silent.

     The King pondered to himself.

     "Well, that is..."

     Everything the Wocky wanted was about to slip through the door. Unless...

     "Well. I'm not wrong am I?"

     The King pondered to himself even harder. So he got up and stood on the stairs. Three times facing Upwards, three times facing Downward. But every time, he was still going only one of two ways on the stairs. None of which was he going backward.

     " I mean...I can't believe you never realized this."

     King Hagan looked shocked and a bit proud.

     " I have never thought of it like that before..."

     The King paused while stroking his chin in contemplation.

     "I have concluded, that this Wocky, has wisdom and a way of thinking, like none of us in Brightvale."

     The Wocky's face lit up with a big, bright, smile. Before that smile faded into a look of scepticism.

     "Am I being made fun of?"

     The King cleared his throat.

     "Listen, Young Man."

     The room hung in the air off the tension that came from this line alone.

     "It would do you well to remove that attitude. And open your mind to new possibilities in life."

     The King got off his throne and walked towards the Wocky. His footsteps pounding into the castle floors.

     "You are a very gifted Young Man. I believe you would feel right at home in this fine kingdom."

     The Wocky's face beamed with a smile that no one saw him smile, until now.

     "Now. How would you like to be the official Tyrannian Cultural Advisor?"

     The Guards murmured to themselves as the Wocky jumped for the second time in his whole life. He jumped so high he nearly touched the ceiling.

     "Thank you!"

     He skipped and jumped and pranced with joy.

     "So I take it you'll accept my offer?"

     "Yes absolutely! What? Did you think I wasn't going to accept the dream I've only been wanting for years?"

     The King raised an eyebrow.

     "On one condition boy."

     The Wocky stopped his dancing as he landed on the floor.

     "Oh boy. Here's the catch."

     "Lose that attitude. That is my one condition."

     The Wocky nodded

     "Yes, your majesty."

     "Very well then."

     King Hagan took out his sceptre and placed it on each of the Wocky's shoulders.

     " I hereby knight you as the Official Tyrannian Cultural Advisor."

     King Hagan winked at the Wocky.

     "I'm trusting you with this. Don't screw this up."

     He said in a low, hushed tone.

     The Wocky smiled and nodded.

     Later that night; The Wocky found himself a nice house that followed the standards of traditional Brightvale Architecture. He decked out that very house in anything Tyrannian he could find in the years he lived there.

     Years past. This Wocky became a local celebrity in Brightvale. Translating Tyrannian texts and helping people with practical wisdom he picked up from living in the simple and straightforward land of Tyrannia.

     His attitude improved tremendously. He successfully negotiated a truce between Brightvale and Tyrannia. He was living his best life.

     One night, however. He saw a young, mutant Gelert looking lost and scared. It was pouring out and the Gelert was getting soaked to the bone.

     The Wocky grabbed his umbrella and trudged outside. He set the umbrella down beside the Gelert. Keeping the rain off of his furless, mutant, back.

     "Are you lost?"

     The Wocky asked concerned for the poor Gelert's health and happiness. The Gelert nodded.

     "Do you have a name?"

     The Wocky asked. The Gelert paused. His head sunk lower into his shivering form.

     "Arnie."

     The Gelert murmured.

     "I'm sorry I didn't catch that. What was your name again?"

     The Gelert slinked back.

     "What does it matter, You're just going to call me 'freak' anyways."

     The Wocky walked over to Arnie.

     "A wise man once said to me; 'It would do you well to remove that attitude. And open your mind to new possibilities in life.' "

     The wocky invited the lost Gelert Inside his home. And offered him a warm blanket. A place to sleep. Hot cocoa. Some warm soup, An old Tyrannian recipe. As the two sat around the fire, telling stories until the sun came up.

     Days went by, then weeks, then months. The Wocky had taken the Gelert in as a student and a son.

     A mutant Gelert. And a gifted Tyrannian Wocky. Could there be a better duo? I think not.

     Sometimes we can forget what we're capable of. Or just how special we truly are. But sometimes all it takes is someone to believe in us. To truly remember how wonderful we are.

     The End.

 
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