Once upon a time, there was a city filled with neopets

Once upon a time, there was a city filled with neopets. A few pets could walk on their two legs, others could not. Anyway, there were adobe huts and shops, neatly littering the streets, and young pets of all kinds joyfully played with one another while their parents went about their daily rituals. The city was called Emor.

At the head of the swarming city sat the royal palace, grander than anything you had ever seen. It was at least ten times as big as the largest market in the city. Unlike the rest of the buildings, the palace was made with a rock-solid gray stone, and many jewels embedded the guarded entrance. Atop the entrance stood a shield-shaped royal crest that was striped half red, and half purple. In the middle of it pranced a Lupe figurine made completely out of gold. All in all, the castle looked as if someone had ripped it right out of a storybook and pasted it to the ground.

Inside the marvelous building sat the king, a starry Lupe. He had a blue cape lined with white feathery fuzz, and a great golden crown covered with sapphires was rested on his head. Two armed and armored Draiks stood close at his side, waiting for a command. The king had a majestic and peaceful view from his seat. Blue and yellow tapestries were positioned to his liking, and two windows lay to his right and left. However, what was about to happen would not be so peaceful.

It was an ordinary day, the pets up and running and the king was sitting jauntily on his throne. Suddenly, a red Lenny with half-moon glasses ran into the room, yelling,

"Sire! Sire! A message! A horrible, horrible, message!" The Lenny held up a scroll in his feathery palm. "It's from Tnatum!" One of the Draiks gasped. Tnatum's cruelness was legendary through all of Neopia. He had conquered many small cities with his armies of Darigan neopets, and forced them into being his slaves. His minions were supposed to be ten times stronger than the average pet, and that not even the toughest pet in the entire world could defeat just one. The weird thing was that no one actually knew what Tnatum really looked like. Some said that he was a giant black Pteri, and others said that he was a flying Krawk with 12-inch teeth.

However, the king did not hesitate to grasp the scroll. He slowly unrolled the tarnished parchment in his worn paws, and mutely mouthed the words to himself. A few seconds later, he widened his eyes and dropped his jaw, closing the message. The Draik on his right asked,

"What is it, Sire?" The king closed his mouth and put his head in his paw.

"He has declared war." Was his solemn answer. The Lenny who was still standing there only widened his mouth and stood motionless, paralyzed with fear. The Draik who had gasped blurted out,

"Whatever shall we do?"

"You," The king said, pointing to the Lenny, "Try to calmly warn the town about what has happened." The Lenny nodded, still fearful enough to speak, and left. "You tell our troops what has befallen us, and prepare them for war." He said to the Draik on his right.

"Yes, your majesty." He said calmly, bowing low. He left without a trace.

"And you," The king said to the Draik who had gasped earlier, "Come with me." The Draik nodded as the king stepped off his throne, and trotted on all fours towards the library. His long cape dragged behind him as the Draik followed into the decorated hallway. "Do you know about the Chosen One?" The starry Lupe asked intently, turning a corner.

"I have heard many legends, but to tell the truth, I don't know much." He replied.

"The Chosen One is said to appear in a time of high doubts, such as now." The king stated, still focused on his destination. "He is said to lead us to victory, whatever the cause."

"He sounds very powerful, Sire."

"He is. But the trick is that he doesn't know who he is. For instance, he could be you, or even me. We just don't know it. To find out who he is, we hold a race. Not just an ordinary race, but a race through a forest, a few hills, a valley, and a wide stream. The race is actually not even a mile long, but the Chosen One always comes out in the lead."

"But what if the Chosen One is, well, not the most fit?"

"That dilemma has been solved as well. Somehow, mysterious things happen to those in the race that are not chosen. Rocks fall on them, or the river carries them away so they can race no more. Even the most athletic neopet could not win if he was not chosen."

"I see. How many compete in one race?"

"Five. One for each terrain they must conquer. If none make it to the end, we hold another race, and we keep doing that until the Chosen One is revealed." Finally, the king set foot in the royal library, and started looking for a certain book.

"What must the Chosen One do?" The king concentrated his thoughts on the books, but answered blankly,

"He has to find a special sword called Luminosity, hidden around Neopia. He always finds it by instinct, and then he must climb the mountain called King's Crown, and hold it above his head, saying a few magic words, and everything turns out all right again. It's tougher then it sounds." The Lupe fingered his way through some books, still looking for that special one to unearth.

"What provisions shall he have?"

"Our cook is bound to be preparing the Chosen One's food right now, and the Chosen One will carry... Aha!" His paw had landed on an old and tattered Neopeadia. With a single claw, he gently pulled it towards him. Suddenly there was a little clicking noise, and the king let go of his grip, then threw himself against the shelf. Surprisingly, the whole bookshelf moved inward and quickly to the left, into the wall, revealing a hidden room. Inside of it lay a great block of solid stone, and on top of it laid a majestic sword. The handle was pure gold and sprinkled with jewels, and the blade itself was genuine silver. "The Chosen one will carry this," The king said with excitement, picking up the sword. "The royal sword!"

The Draik gazed in amazement at the beautiful blade. It shined in the sun like a diamond. He almost couldn't believe the jeopardy the king was putting it in. He asked,

"When will the races be held?" The king smiled a satisfied and toothy smile.

"Tomorrow."

The next day, everybody was making a fuss over what was happening. Everyone was at the races, and even those who weren't competing were still tough and ready. The course was all set up in its natural form, and the king watched it from his own raised platform.

In a forest a little off to the right of the racing course, a Lupe stirred. He wasn't what you would call wild, but you couldn't call him civilized either. He was light-purple in color, and he had lived in the wild his whole life. He never knew his father, or his mother. All he knew was his name. He lived on his own hunted meat for all of his long years, and stream water as well. He had spent his whole life running, running from the unknown truth of his past.

His fur was a bit dirty and his claws a bit long, but besides that, he was a strong and healthy Lupe. He had an acute sense of smell and hearing, both things that were important in the wilderness. He was born in the wild, and never dared to take a step onto civilization. Why, you may ask? It was because he simply didn't know how to live like that. When he was in the wild, ideas came to him like instinct, but in a city, he had no clue. Besides, he didn't have any neopoints.

He woke with a start, on account of all the hubbub of the races. He stretched and yawned, wondering what had gotten the pets stirred up. So with quick, agile movements, he trotted to the edge of the forest and darted behind a bush. Cautiously, he poked out through the dark green leaves. Scanning the area, he couldn't really tell what was going on. There were pets exercising, and a few were watching them. Out of the blue, a white Lupe in front of him turned its head, catching him in the act. The wild Lupe quickly ducked his head back under, but it was too late.

"Hello?" The white Lupe asked in her feminine voice. The wild one knew that she saw him, so he popped his head out of the bush and answered,

"Hello." It was his first time talking to another Lupe in years.

"What are you doing in the forest? Come with me to the races!" The white one said gleefully. The wild Lupe considered. Well, one day out couldn't hurt. He thought.

"All right." He said, taking his first step onto the town. Following the other Lupe, he admired the adobe huts and fruit stalls, all abandoned for this special day.

"I'm Aleu. What's your name?" She asked.

"My name is Romulus." He answered, scraping the ground with every step of his paw.

"Romulus," She said, seeming to take time to taste the name. "That's an interesting name."

"Thanks." Romulus replied. Suddenly, they were both at the swarming crowd.

"This race is held supposedly to determine who will lead us to victory against Tnatum." She shivered at the name. "Anyway," Aleu continued, "Let's get off that subject. Why have you come here?"

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone comes to Emor for a reason. For instance, my parents visited here so they could write down all the names and locations of trees in the forest. They've been gone for months on end. So, why are you here?"

"Um, just visiting." Romulus lied.

Suddenly, a silence like no other shattered their conversation. The king, atop his elevated seat, stood on his hind legs, an amazing feat for a creature that normally stood on four.

"Silence!" He bellowed, and everything was even quieter than it had been before. "It seems that we have a shortage of neopets for the first race. We have four competitors for the first race, and we need one more. Any volunteers?" Almost more than half the pets their raised their paw or fin. "Hmmm..." The king thought, looking towards the back. Finally he spotted whom he was looking for, and pointed with a single black claw to who he wanted. "You," He said, "The purple-ish Lupe." Romulus moved a paw over his heart and mouthed the words, me?

"Yes, you. Come up to the starting line." Romulus already had butterflies in his stomach. All other pets moved out of the way, clearing a path for him to the start.

"You can beat them, Romulus!" Aleu whispered in his ear. Romulus only gulped, and stepped lightly down the new path, feeling as if he were the king himself. As he set foot on the starting line, the king explained the rules.

"In this race, there are four different terrains you must surpass. In each terrain, you may not fly, as this counts as cheating. Let the games begin." Romulus glanced at who he was up against. There was a white Uni, a blue Ixi, a yellow Jubjub, and a red Draik. Before he knew it, the referee Scorchio was shouting,

"On your mark... Get set..."