I got the money for the morphing potion.
Never mind that I had to promise some illegalities to Princess Fernypoo—something I didn't mind, as she was a nice looking Acara with a bank account as big as her diva ego. Never mind that if I actually followed through with my promises—which I would—I could potentially get fired, as my manager was diligent about checking the records. Never mind that the whole Dubloon probably had heard or deduced what I had promised her in whispered tones to calm her outburst. Never mind that the first reason I had for pining after the morphing potion was just so I could be far more successful at my job, a job I would potentially lose because of obtaining the potion. The dream had gone far beyond that launching point, reaching up into the heavens and mingling among the butterfly wings of faeries. It had been a kite lost to the clouds, and now I had finally recovered the string that led to that height-scaling wonder.
So long as I had the money—the means to my ultimate goal—gripped tightly in my paw, and the access to a morphing potion, my job, my reputation; the whole of what my life equaled up until that era, was a total moot point. Everything would be washed away as soon as I tasted the sweet nectar of that potion down my throat—it would be the holy water to absolve my sins.
I've never skipped before in my life, but I made a valiant attempt to do so once Princess Fernypoo dropped me off in Neopia Central. I gave her a chivalrous kiss on the back of her hand as soon as she handed me over the promised Neopoints, bubbling with enthusiasm. I didn't even stay to see her reaction to my gesture of affection—though Fernypoo was a lovely Acara, undoubtedly, I had only a distant professional relationship with her, and this attachment did not overrule delaying the dream I had held for over three years tight in my chest.
When I arrived at Kauvara's Magic Shop, the shelves were bare with the indication of a restock only minutes ago. Kauvara looked frazzled, as she always did after the rush of customers accompanying a restock, and she could barely managed a detached smile when I entered through the heavy curtain that served as a door. I nodded towards her stiffly, the excitement of the moment beginning to immobilize my senses. I could only hope that when the time came, I would have the sudden surge of adrenaline necessary to seize the item before another customer did.
The restock was fascinating to watch. Unlike the other stores, where well-muscled Skeiths and Grarrls appeared in white-sided trucks to unload boxes upon boxes of new items to eagerly waiting potential customers, Kauvara's stock, lined up neatly on the shelves, merely blinked into existence, everything in its proper place. I had seen this happen before in passing, shocked as the windows suddenly filled up with all sorts of vials and enchanted weapons, and knew precisely where to find my morphing potion. I watched the spot where it restocked like a disciple watching his idol reappear in the flesh on earth, an unseen corona circling it.
I lunged for it, as a man at the end of the desert finding a spring would, and snatched it from the shelf. Already the store was filling to capacity with customers around me, and I rushed to forming line at the front counter, the vial held in both hands like a treasure. I practically wept when Kauvara rung it up, her wand waving gently over the bottle to bring up a price tag.
"That's going to be 450,000 Neopoints, Max."
I tried to hand them over with an air of nonchalance, but my exhilaration belayed me. My hands were trembling as the money and potion swapped hands, and Kauvara gave me a confidential smile. "Congratulations, Max," she whispered, and I could only nod—words would bring out tears.
I rushed home with my purchase in a brown bag, keeping it as close to my body as possible. As I said, it was not permissible to drink a potion in public, for God knows I would've tasted that ambrosia as soon as possible. Also, with an owner, I had to put the potion momentarily back in their inventory, and then convince her to let me drink it. Seeing as I had bought it myself, I figured this would be no issue. My owner was a slob, and often spent my Neopoints as if they were her own, but she was by no means unjust.
The door of our Neohome was open when I got there, and I burst in, immediately looking for my owner's inventory. It was in the kitchen, as she often only had food items for us, and I raced there as fast as I could. Dropping it into the large cabinet that served as our inventory, I closed the door quickly behind it, making sure that my accompanying sibling didn't see the potion. Unfortunately, I hadn't moved fast enough for that.
"Max!" I cringed inwardly, my nerves stepped upon whenever my brother raised his voice. My brother's name was Chiitsuru, and he was the spoiled one in the family—he was read all the finest Booktastic Books, fed all the Gourmet Club food, received all the Mystery and Krawk Island training, equipped with all the Hidden Tower weapons, and painted all the flashiest, most in-fashion color. Currently, he was a Christmas Zafara. He had been a Zafara since we picked him up at the pound, and this only added to my frustration about him. Besides Pteris, Zafaras were the most flighty and unreliable. Besides, they were lanky, wobbly things that got over-excited over the slightest stimulus.
"Chiitsuru, there you are," I said weakly, feigning a smile. I turned around to face him. That ridiculous smile was on his face, and his wings were flared wide as they always were, indicating intrigue.
"I saw you put somethin' in there! Lemme see!" he demanded, jumping up and down. "You get us a fancy dinner or somethin'? You find a paint brush?" He strained to see behind me, although the inventory was closed.
"Neither, Chiitsuru, neither. Where's Miko?"
"Right here." I turned to my right to see my owner walk in, flipping a strand of turquoise hair out of her eyes. Her name was Rumiko—Miko for short--and she was small, corpse-like pale, and smelled of stale cigarettes. She was nowhere near the beauty of any faerie we'd ran into, but she tried to resemble them with unnatural hair colors and a limited diet. Her face screamed corruption, though, weathered into wrinkles in all the wrong places. She held her arms akimbo. "And I saw you come in, Max. What'd you put in there?"
I stepped aside, allowing her access to the inventory. "See for yourself." I paused as she stepped forward, leaning down to open the wide cabinet. "But you have to promise me that you'll only use it on me. I bought it, after all."
Miko grunted, an ambiguous answer that didn't indicate compliance or refusal. She slid open the drawer, and her hands immediately went to the brown bag, opening it up. When she pulled out the vial and got a closer look at it, her eyes widened. She gave a few surprised swears, and jolted to her feet, dropping the empty bag and holding the morphing potion as if it were the grail.
"Holy cats, Korbatman!" she proclaimed, holding it out at arms length. Chiitsuru zoomed in to get a closer look, rubbing his eyes as if he couldn't believe them. "A Faerie Ixi Morphing Potion? How'd you get this! Rob the bank?"
"Let's just say I have a very … generous client," I said, anxiety begin to rise in me. Chiitsuru was dancing across the ground, grabbing for the vial and whining about how he wanted to drink it. I pushed him aside to get in front of Miko. "But I bought it with my own money—the client gave the money to me. So will you let me drink it now? I didn't want to without your permission."
Miko seemed to contemplate this point, looking down at me and then back to the morphing potion a couple of times. A disapproving look began to form its way on her face, her teeth biting the side of her cheek. "Well, I don't know about that, Max … Chiitsuru's been waiting a long time to be transformed into an Ixi, let alone a Faerie Ixi, and I think it's his turn …" Chiitsuru gave a little peep of victory, still groping at the air with his claws. I pushed him aside more roughly this time, not able to believe my ears.
"What? I've been wanting this far longer than Chiitsuru's attention span can even reach—before he was even yearning for that Christmas Paint Brush!" Normally, I sucked in the bias towards Chiitsuru and had accepted it as a fact of life—but I hadn't believed that Miko would tip the scales this far in his favor. My speech seemed to further discourage Miko from granting me the potion, an unhappy snarl on her face.
"You never even talk about changing colors!" she demanded, keeping half of her attention on the jumping, squealing Chiitsuru. She smiled whenever he gaze went to him, patting him soothingly on the head, and then would turn back to me with a twitch in her features that changed them to something ugly.
"You never listen to me, that's why!" I retorted, furrowing my brow in anger. "I've told you a hundred times how much easier my job would be if I didn't look so … well, angry all the time! Or if I wasn't such a common color! My manager, he's a Desert Shoyru, and—"
"Oh, don't give me your sob story," Miko sneered, holding the potion at her chest. "I've heard it too many times before. We never have to go to the Soup Kitchen, do we? You've always got clean clothes on your back, and you've got some of the best toys Neopoints can buy. So don't give me that you're neglected bulldung."
"I don't mean neglected like that—it's … it's different. See, I have this dream and—no!"
Miko had cut off her attention towards me and was kneeling down to the complaining Chiitsuru, uncorking the potion and lifting the vial towards his lips. I burst forward, grabbing the thicker part of the vial with one hand, and pulled it backwards. Only a taste of the potion splattered onto Chiitsuru's lips, and he gave a low wail, reaching forward for the potion.
The vial, though, was now between the grasps of Miko and my own, each of our muscles straining against each other to reclaim hold of the vial. The bluish-purple potion inside sloshed back and forth, toppling over the opening occasionally and splashing onto our hands. I was shouting at Miko for wasting my money while Miko just repeated to me to give it back—that it wasn't mine, and Chiitsuru deserved it. We rocked back and forth, often momentarily trading the upper hand, until I could feel the vial slipping into my grasps. Simply put, Miko didn't have the proper grip on the vial and her weak human arms couldn't compete with the strength and endurance of the arms of a Skeith.
Yet this power, in the moment it seemed to be to my advantage, suddenly turned against me. As soon as Miko let go, my balance was offset, and my hands seemed to fail to grasp onto the vial, threatening to drop it with a crash to the tile. I compensated by gripping it harder instinctively, my claws seeming to sink into the glass—and then they did, and the delicate vial shattered within my clutches.
The potion sprayed everywhere at the puncture, the majority of it falling to the ground and instantly vanishing in a gaseous hiss. Some of it landed on my arm and coat jacket, singeing the skin and eroding some of the fabric. The most unfortunate part, though, was where the glass had punctured my palm, some of the acidic potion seeping into the freshly formed wounds.
I cried out, half in pain and half in mortification at how easily my dream had been shattered—by my own hands. Miko was staring at me, surprised at first, but then allowed a long smirk to come across her face. Chiitsuru was crying selfishly, lamenting how he had only gotten a taste, and how he now wanted more. I was too numb to react to his stupidity—to how I had actually bought the potion and hadn't received a taste at all. Even the liquid that splashed onto my arm had evaporated too quickly to lap up, instead absorbing into my skin with a painful sting.
"See what you get, Max? See what you get when you're selfish? Your brother could have at least benefited from your purchase, but no. You had to have it yourself!" lectured Miko, shaking a finger at me, chastising. Her lecture didn't last long, however, because Chiitsuru emitted a loud wail, forcing her to turn to the little Skeith to give him the attention he shrieked for. She petted him underneath the halo gently and scratched behind his wings, her attitude changing from one of strict schoolmarm to one of affectionate mother, coddling her favorite child.
I could only watch this exchange of sickening sympathy so long. Brushing the crimson-colored fragments of glass from my hand, I turned to exit the kitchen, my body filled with ice. I could hear Miko's voice crying after me, rasping for all of that wretched smoke she inhaled and exhaled every day like a chimney.
"Max! Get back here and clean up your mess! Take out the trash, too! You didn't do that yesterday!"
I ignored her shrill, scratchy screams—an unusual thing for me to do. Normally, I would turn back with a sigh and a slump of my shoulders and crawl back into the house to do her bidding. Today, though, nothing seemed more repulsive than reentering that household as soon as I stepped foot outside—to trade that stagnant air for the fresh and flowing wind of outdoors. I could only sense the high, suffocating pressure of oppression behind me, and it held no secrets to which I didn't already know the answer. I kept my back turned to their hostility, filling my lungs with the sun, and walked into Neopian Square.
"Sllllaaaaaaaaave! I aaaaaaaaaaaaamm huuuuuuuuuuungrrrryyyyyyy! Geeeeeeeeeeet meeeeeeeeee fooooooooooooooooood!"
I knew that drawn out, echoing voice anywhere, even if I had been completely on the other side of the Haunted Woods. I was within walking distance this time, though, so it only made the voice more susceptible to give me a headache. I muttered something foul under my breath and trudged through the shrubbery to make a bee-line towards the Esophagor, knowing that if I got there any later than necessary, I would pay for it in beatings.
When I arrived, the Esophagor was above ground, still wailing uncontrollably about his empty stomach. I was panting when I arrived, having sprinted through terrain that would've been tough for an experienced hiker to walk.
"You know," I wheezed, wiping my forehead just below my brain, "you think it might be possible for you to get gastric bypass surgery?"
"Siiiiiiiiiileeeeeeeeeeencee! Dooooooooooo noooooooooooooooot moooooooooock the Esooooooooophaaaaaaagooooooooooooor!"
"Right," I grumbled, rubbing my forehead, "right. Now what's it you want today, boss?"
"Geeeeeeeeet meeeeeeeeeee myyyyyyyy Skeeeeeeeeith Juuuuuuuuuuice Coooooooocktaaaaaaaaaaaail!" he roared, his mouth opening so slowly as to draw out every word.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going. Anything else you'd like, while I'm at it? I don't want to come running back for nothing."
"Deeeeeeviiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiled Steaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak."
"I'm on it, boss."
Though that was mostly a lie. I started heading north as if going towards the Deserted Fairground to buy legitimately off that cheapskate Bruce, but veered left behind the Stone Battledome so the Esophagor wouldn't notice me heading towards the Brain Tree. I could see his pulsating brain even from the back of the Stone Battledome, and I gave a little shudder. As much as the Brain Tree had been a doll with taking up Vali (I wouldn't've been able to stomach living with a littl'un, and the fact that I, being an animate object that could move, would be more suspect than the Brain Tree), it was still hard for me to look past his face and up to his branches.
Making sure not to approach him from behind (I had heard dreadful tales about what happened to Neopets that dared wandered behind the Tree), I tried to creep up from him at the side, tiptoeing as softly as I could through the heavy underbrush.
"I beg you not to insult my intelligence like that, Kacheek," the Brain Tree rumbled, not even bothering to look in my direction. Baffled, I wondered briefly if he had eyes in his branches. "If you want to speak to me, approach from the front. I'm not keen on stalkers, and you wouldn't be keen on what I do to stalkers."
"Not a stalker here, Tree," I replied, holding my hands up innocently as I emerged from the underbrush. The Brain Tree lifted one of his craggy eyebrows at me, his usual critical look examining me mercilessly. I shivered under that gaze as I always did, and then cleared my throat to indicate a shift towards a lighter topic. "So it's, uh, great weather here in the Haunted Woods." This was a lie under normal environments—it was overcast and lightning and thunder stewed in the distance—but for the Haunted Woods, it was fairly temperate. The Brain Tree still seemed bitter towards this statement.
"I'm not a Tree to small talk with, Kacheek, and if you'd like to, I'd recommend one of the dead ones around me. They'll probably have more to say," snapped the Brain Tree. He wore glasses at the moment (something I found slightly absurd and hilarious, but couldn't manage to laugh at), and held a book between two branches. Vali, as I noticed, was nowhere in sight. "Now make your point, and make it quick."
"Albert Kacheek died during 7 AN in the Haunted Woods." That was the current year. The Brain Tree sighed irritably, and put down his book on a nearby stump. I wondered how he could use the expired body of a former comrade as a bookstand.
"Everyone's a comedian, aren't they," growled the Brain Tree, though he seemed more willing to speak. "I hope you've come to check in on Validated, or I'd have to say you are a pretty irresponsible crook."
"Is there any other kind?" I asked innocently, batting what was left of my eyelashes.
He ignored my mocking. "Vali is doing fine. She's been very … excitable." When he said these words, an irritated tiredness overcame his eyes. From what I could gather from his expression, Vali's youth was wearing him down.
"Where is she?" I asked, looking up reluctantly to his higher branches.
"Here." He lowered a branch suddenly, seeming to spontaneously bloom from his brain. Vali sat on the limb, clinging to it with her weak forearms, gurgling stupidly and dribbling at the mouth. "I've come across a few problems with her," said the Brain Tree, a repugnant tone in his voice. "First of all, I'm not sure what she eats. I've been feeding her from what Edna's been bringing me, but she is picky of what she'll accept as food."
"Still looks pretty well-fed to me," I commented, giving a look over Vali's body. The baby fat still encompassed her frame in rolls and pressing flesh.
"Yes, when she finds something she likes, she eats it in mass quantities. But for the second part … she's not … trained for the latrine."
"She's not what?" If the Brain Tree had cheeks or blood vessels, he would've been blushing.
"She's not potty trained. And you gave me no diapers. She's … making a mess around my trunk." I had noticed that something smelled off around the area the Brain Tree was planted, but I assumed that it was just some chemical that Edna had dropped on one of her regular rounds to pick up spell ingredients around the Brain Tree. I backed up a little, wary of stepping into any surrounding dung.
"Ah, well … I guess you've got a great natural fertilizer here, then," I quipped, trying to get the Brain Tree to see the brighter side of things. He responded with a glare.
"This isn't a funny thing, Kacheek," he growled. "Your burden is causing me to live in fecal filth."
"Don't worry, you'll get used to her. Maybe you could even teach her to use the 'potty,' eh?" I mocked, using that juvenile word so unlike his usual pretentious vocabulary.
"Get out of my sight, Kacheek," he hissed, his spiteful voice like a hot breeze in summer. He motioned towards Vali with a branch. "And take this little bugger with you. Nobody assigned me the task of cleaning your dirty laundry." He goaded her forward with his branch, and she whined slightly, giving a hurt look towards the Brain Tree. She reached back and grasped to his branch protectively, as if it were a security blanket.
"Awww, but she seems to like you so much," I cooed, giving the Brain Tree some pouting lips. This time, the Brain Tree actually swung a branch down and slapped me, to which I replied with an offended "ow!"
"Take her!" he commanded, casting her towards me. She cried out disapprovingly, nuzzling her cheek against his branch.
"Okay, I've got an idea," I said, stalling. I held out my hands as if in a truce to avoid being further pummeled by a branch. "I'm gonna stand over here"—I indicated a place far from the Brain Tree—"and you're, uh, gonna stay over there. You're gonna put Vali in the middle. Whoever she goes to first, has to keep her. Deal?"
"No deal, Kacheek!" thundered the Brain Tree. "I didn't agree to this arrangement—I didn't participate in your foul kidnapping! Take this child and get out of my sight!"
His voice was booming like an intercom across the Haunted Woods, and a wave of paranoia washed over me as to the ears that might be listening. I tried to hush him, but apparently my intervention was unnecessary. During his shouts, the look of urgency had fallen off Vali's face and given way to a trembling bottom lip, her green eyes filling with tears. As soon as the Woods turned to silence again, the quiet was broken by a sudden high-pitched wailing and a flurry of tears falling down Vali's face. We both looked down at the Baby Grarrl suddenly and dumbly, our faces blank at the shift in situation. Neither of us, obviously, had ever tended to an infant before, and the prospect of soothing its tears seemed, at that moment, impossible.
I looked up to the Brain Tree. "Uh, you're the brains of this operation. What're we supposed to do?"
"I know nothing of younglings. I'm a tree—we don't deal with these sniveling things, we deal with saplings. They raise themselves."
"I think you should, uh, comfort it or something."
"Me? This wasn't my plan, Kacheek. Do your own comforting!"
The Brain Tree turned away from Vali, who continued to weep uncontrollably. Awkwardly, I approached Vali while the Brain Tree watched on, seeming to evaluate my every move. Clearing my throat, I sat in front of the bawling Grarrl, and held out my arms in a gesture of goofy, welcoming affection. I grinned as stupidly as my features would allow, letting my tongue roll out the side of my mouth for effect. "Come to daddy, Baby Vali!"
The Grarrl gave one look at me and intensified her blubbering, filling the air with a squealing frequency. I writhed backwards, gripping at my ears, and gestured at her with my chin for the Brain Tree. "See? I'm no good with this stuff! You do it, she likes you better!"
"Ignorant," spat the Brain Tree. "Of course she will cry if you confront her with a hideous visage like yours. Come here." He directed the last sentence towards Vali rather than me, stretching down a branch to the upset Grarrl. He wrapped the branch around her waist, and gently slid her towards his trunk. Once she sat at his roots, he reached down further branches to comfort her, stroking her skin with noticeable fragility despite the tough and scratchy nature of his bark. Slowly, Vali's sobs began to reduce in volume, and then disappeared altogether. She gave a brief smile before seeming to decide the tears had tuckered her out, and then reclined back on the Brain Tree and napped immediately.
"You sure have a way with babies," I said, whistling lowly.
"Quiet," said the Brain Tree, his tone low to accommodate for Vali's nap. "You'll wake her."
"Somebody's a good Daddy."
"Silence your lips, Kacheek, before these other branches decide to bludgeon you." His tone had intention in it, even being quiet. "Get out of here, immediately."
"Don't want me to take Vali with me anymore?"
"With the intimacy you just displayed there? She'll be dead in a day. Probably eaten by the Esophagor," snarled the Brain Tree.
"Hey, that reminds me—I'm on an errand for my slave master. Toodle-loo, my buddy!" I said, turning tail as soon as I had effectively changed the topic. I scooted away, trying to outrun any outbursts the Brain Tree might have towards me, but my stubby legs weren't quick enough to carry me to safety. I felt a hard whip on my bum as I scrambled off, giving a yelp and a jump. Like a Uni on the racetrack, it only encouraged me to go faster.