Princess was fast, but her years of preening had apparently left her not quite as fit as a Kacheek whose primary focus in life was running—literally—around Neopia to find the Esophagor a morsel. I escaped her with ease once I dove into one of the old, broken constructs of Maraqua, looking like some sort of tomb. The building was intricate, and filled with rotting rooms, and I hid in one until I figured I had lost her. She wouldn't pursue me long, I assumed, while dragging along that suitcase, though I should've been smart enough to grab that thing myself.
Frustrated and having trouble breathing (I had broken the vial containing my oxygen potion), I swam out of the building and surfaced as fast as I could, disregarding the possibility of the bends. I sucked in as much air as possible as I broke to air, and then, treading water, looked around for any land. As it happened, I could see Mystery Island in the distance, and began swimming in that direction, ignoring the possibility of Jetsam attacks.
I gasped as I came to shore, spitting out any excess water in my mouth. I found the first boat back to the Haunted Woods and paid for a ticket. We took off from the harbor an hour later, and I was back in the Haunted Woods before morning began to rise. With the world still covered in darkness, I stumbled back to my lean-to alongside the Esophagor and fell into a dreamless sleep, practically unconscious.
The next morning, I awakened to a Wood strangely quiet. Normally, I woke up to the roars of the Esophagor demanding his breakfast at the crack of dawn, and I would've given anything to wake up to some peace and quiet—but now that I had, I was creeped out and suspicious. Cautiously, I walked down to where the Esophagor normally bellowed at me from his hole in the ground, my nerves on end to prepare for a sneak attack.
Low moans came from the pit that the Esophagor occasionally retreated into like a turtle. I poked my head over the edge of it, preparing myself to draw back from the rim at any moment. "'Sophagor?" I inquired into the indent in the ground, my ears perked.
"Ooooooooooooooh … myyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy stoooooooooooooooomaaaaaaaaaaaaaach …."
"Do you have, uh, Bloaty Belly?" The idea that the Esophagor, a monster of unknown origin, would get a Neopets disease was a hilarious concept to me, and if it were true, I promised myself to stifle my laughter. And it was—the Esophagor rose from its pit and nodded slowly, its usually angry holes-for-eyes shaped to look saddened and pained.
"Yesssssssssssssssss … Iiiiiiiiiiiiiii geeeeeeeeet thiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiis soooooooooooooooooooometiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimessssssssssssssssss … aaaaaaaaaaaaaafterrrrrrrrrrrrr a riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiich meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeal …."
"So you want me to get you Flat-u-less Tablets or something?"
"Yeeeeeesssssssssss."
"I'll be gone a long time for those, you know. They don't have those lying around in the Haunted Woods—I'm gonna have to go to Neopian Central, to the pharmacy."
"Juuuuuuuuuuuuuussssssssssst gooooooooooooo …. Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiii caaaaaaaaaaaaaaannoooooooooooot beeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaar thiiiiiiiiiiiiiis aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagonyyyyyyyyyyy!"
I muttered something righteous under my breath of 'serving him right,' and then agreed to undertake the quest. (I really had no other choice, unless I wanted to be a surrogate Flat-u-less Tablet to the Esophagor.) I headed north, glad that I wouldn't have to take any boats or airplanes to get to Neopia Central—transportation that involved movement that wasn't my own often left me nauseous.
Neopia Central was bustling by the time I arrived, but the pharmacy, as usual, was not quite as busy as, say, the Weapons Store or the Food Shop. I managed to pocket some Flat-u-less Tablets without a huge ruckus, slipping out of the store without paying. (I had no choice—the Esophagor, in all of his agony, had failed to supply me with any Neopoints.) I planned to also escape back to the Haunted Woods without ruckus, but my silent morning had seemed to foreshadow something sinister.
I was crossing into the Bazaar for a midmorning snack of pizza when trouble arrived. I saw some cops along the way, patrolling passerbys and occasionally stopping them for a casual round of questioning. Cops—mostly Yurbles, Shoyrus, Chias and other benevolent species—always set my nerves on edge, even before I had become a delinquent Mutant Kacheek. Their purported work for the public's good always seemed to serve their own needs selfishly, and I couldn't help but be distasteful towards that kind of behavior.
When the cops began to casually walk towards me (or at least look casual—I assumed that his flippancy was for effect), I quickened my pace, and they sped up theirs to match mine—or at least to overtake me. Before I knew what was happening, the cop was confronting me from the front, and my heart was thundering inside my chest, beating chaotically like the hooves of a pack of Unis pursued by Lupes.
"How're you doing today, Mr. Kacheek?" asked the Chia policeman formally, nodding to me politely. I swallowed, my mouth dry. I tried to reassure myself that they would have no reason to arrest me—they had no warrant to justify an arrest.
"O-okay," I stammered. I mentally slapped myself—to be convincingly innocent, I would have to keep my voice steady and unfettered. This was easier said than done.
"Whatcha got in your paw there, Mr. Kacheek?" inquired the Chia, looking closely at the Flat-u-less Tablets in my hand. I tried to hide them behind my back on impulse, but they were already seen—reluctantly, I brought them forward again, blushing to brush off my sudden attack of sneakiness as embarrassment.
"Uh, well, just some medicine for my Bloaty Belly …" As if on cue, I puffed out my belly as far as I could, nearly sucking all of the air out of my lungs. I was gambling on the policeman not talking to me much longer, as I could barely breathe in that position.
"Can I see it, Mr. Kacheek?"
Resisting the police was a dangerous thing, so although the item was stolen, I bit my reluctance back and handed it to the Chia. He looked over it closely, as if just inspecting it would give some idea as to where it came from. Finally, he looked up at me, tabbing the box with a finger thoughtfully.
"You have a receipt I can see for this, Mr. Kacheek?"
My stomach tied itself into knots that made it difficult for me to fake Bloaty Belly anymore. Sweat trickled down visibly from my brain, and I smiled sheepishly, trying to make sure my fangs were sticking out to imply a sort of subtle threat.
"Well, uh, you see about that …"
That was about when I turned tail and darted for the side of the Bazaar, which was ringed by heavy shrubbery. This wasn't about to discourage the Chia, who didn't pursue me immediately but instead called back-up on his walkie-talkie. While I was struggling in a swimming motion through the brush, the Chia came after me. Apparently he had navigated this underbrush before, because he moved through it with an ease of a Maraquan pet through water, positioning himself in front of me in what seemed like seconds. I tried dodging to the side to avoid his grasp, but I got caught on in a briar patch.
While I was screaming in agony, picking out the long barbs in my arms with my teeth and weeping to myself, the Chia did me the service of pulling my wrists behind my back and locking them together, all the while reciting my Miranda rights. (He was multi-talented in this respect, but I was unimpressed.) To further illustrate how screwed I was, his back-up arrived and surrounded me in a tight, imprisoning circle, the four of them helping the Chia carry me back to the police station.
While I had been engaging in crookery for the Esophagor for quite some time now, I wasn't familiar with the police force beyond sight-encounters. Being taken to the police station was much more complex ordeal, involving so many unnecessary details, formalities and ugly, hateful looks from policemen that I was almost relieved when they escorted me gruffly to my cell. Most condemning was the pawprinting process, wherein they took a big pad of ink, pressed my paw into it, and then pressed my ink-laden paw onto a piece of paper with all of my identification which they told me would go in a file to investigate for future crimes.
The cell was mostly dark (the only light came from outside, so the brightness of the room varied with the phase of the day, and made it impossible to take midday naps) and dry, and I had to share it with two other Neopets. They both looked far more suspicious than I (one was a Wocky with patches of fur missing and a scar spanning his right eye, while the other was a world-weary Tonu with a chip of his horn and shoulder) and I was substantially afraid of them, not allowing myself sleep until I assured myself both of them were knocked out with weariness. They played assorted card games on the dusty floor of the cell when the guard wasn't looking, and discussed schemes to escape between themselves, all the while shooting dirty looks at me. Money traded hands between them (where they got the Neopoints from, I'd never know) and both of them were eventually bailed for large sums.
A bail, though, was a luxury at the jail—I wasn't afforded one. The police claimed they had some 'questioning' they had to perform on me, and as such needed me in custody without opportunity to escape. Their questioning didn't commence until about a week later, and in those days I twiddled my thumbs and played with the prison food, too anxious to eat whole meals. They were barely meals anyway—mostly, it was just tidbits of omelette to sop up some onion and leek soup.
'Questioning' or 'interrogating' as they sometimes called it, I reflected after it began, should be called what it is: 'terrorizing.' I came in to the process with an open mind, willing to see what it was like, and what they planned on asking. They led me into a room with a big mirror along the side, a table towards the middle, and two chairs at the table, opposing each other. There were lights overhead, but the police had opted to on only one light that hung like an ominous Korbat over my head. It shed down accusatory light at me, finger-pointing with its rays.
They decided to pit me against a Kougra and a Grarrl for questioning—and unlike Vali, this Grarrl was full-grown and male, with a sharp set of carnivorous teeth. My prey instincts flared up in face of the two predators, high above me in the food chain. They were dressed in shirts with no ties, shirts that were slightly opened at the top to reveal a shred of the musculature beneath. They looked sweaty and angry, and it was all I could do to not pee myself in apprehension.
They asked questions in a rapid-fire procession, so quick that I barely had time to register what they were asking and what information I should provide them. My mind began reeling, and whenever I failed to answer a question in the time they deemed appropriate, they bared their teeth, got in my face, and asked if I was trying to hide something. Sometimes I was, and on those occasions I cowered backwards, not offering a follow-up response or a plea.
At first, they asked questions about where I was living, and what I did for an occupation. They asked general, run-of-the-mill questions in a casual fashion. Then, suddenly, their tones would shift, their questions would turn to the subject of Vali, and every strand of my fur would stand on end. That little Acara, Fernypoo, must've turned in a description of me to the police, and the police were probably stopping Mutant Kacheeks all day. I wondered if I had any comrades in alternate rooms identical to mine, being blasted with questions that baffled and confused them until they admitted their faulty guilt.
I managed to hold out for a few weeks more, feeding them a string of lies that I would record later and memorize to keep them consistent. But my resolve was cracking: they wanted answers, and they were willing to squeeze them out of me—and probably others—any way they could. I knew the answers to all of their questions, but if I gave them what they wanted, I'd either condemn myself or the Brain Tree—two figures I had no desire to see incarcerated or worse.
Eventually, though, I weakened under their inquiry, having been snarled and snapped at one too many times. I was afraid that they would turn to the path of torture, as I had heard these happenings in rumors that flittered through the ears of the residents of the Haunted Woods. I started giving away the story in snippets, slowly feeding them the flesh they desired with their teeth made for hunting. Once I had given them a shred of what they wanted, though, it was like giving your arm to a Werelupe to satisfy their craving—they just wanted more information, and held me in that mental torture chamber for far longer hours than I imagined was legal. But I was in a house of the law, and everything that happened there went inconspicuously under the radar of fair treatment and legality. It was a free market of exploitation.
Finally, I let the big one slip: that I, indeed, had kidnapped Vali. I softened this blow, though, with claiming that it had been the Brain Tree's idea, that it had bullied me into doing the crime (showing scratches and bruises that were instead from the Esophagor as 'evidence'), and that it currently kept Vali in his possession, and God knows what it was doing with her.
Lies, perhaps, but lies necessary to keep myself from being in the slammer—the Brain Tree was known for sending Neopets off on missions with questionable legality, forcing them to commit to them through the same tactics that the Grarrl and Kougra sucked information out of me. Also, I couldn't fathom how the police could punish a tree of all things. With me, it was obvious—they'd keep me in the jail to rot until they deemed my time was up, or I had behaved nicely for three-fourths of my term. The Brain Tree was planted in place. They certainly couldn't relocate him to a jail, and the police were probably too afraid to get close to him to ask for a fine—even if they did, the Brain Tree carried no cash.
It took them a while to be satisfied with the information I gave them—they investigated every little detail, grilling me on the specifics, and I had to scribble down notes to myself on pieces of napkin to keep my story straight. Before questioning every day (which was really unpredictable, as sometimes they seized me to go there from the depths of my sleep), I would pick out the pieces of paper from the wrinkles in my brain, which is where I kept them for safekeeping, and read over my story, elaborate and detailed as they forced me to make it.
After I was fairly certain that their extended keep of me without bail was illegal (I was given some books on the law during free time, to read for pleasure), they let me loose without warning and without further comment. They—the Grarrl and the Kougra who had questioned me, and now accompanied me to the door--didn't even threaten me as they ushered me out the door, their faces stony and without emotion. For two Neopets who I had seen so consistently throughout my time there, I almost felt sad leaving them, even if they had been abusive and derogatory. Though I knew they had kept me as an unwilling captive, and treated me like dung, I had grown an affection for them one way or another, if only by virtue of sharing an experience.
In that respect, I thought it wrong to leave them without some parting words. As they tried to cast me off towards the Haunted Woods, I turned around and patted both of them on the shoulder. They immediately tensed up, as if I had pulled out a gun, looked at each other with confusion, and then looked back at me, befuddled. I smiled at them broadly.
"Well, I guess I'll see you around, guys."
They had no reply to that but a steady stare from both, the Kougra's mouth slightly ajar.
Beaming, I turned around to face the Haunted Woods. My smile quickly faded from my mouth as I remembered what lay within those Woods: a life marked by slavery, shackled to the Esophagor by a curse and its gluttony. I shivered—a coldness seemed to emit from the darkened trees, the sun seeming reluctant to shed its rays on the Woods. I turned back to the police station as if for support from the Kougra and Grarrl, but they had disappeared. I turned back to my path—it was an under-traveled one, with many pawprints veering off last second around the edges of the Woods. My destination, however, was deep inside the Woods, whether I liked it or not. That was where my home was, for the time being, until I could reach for higher things, things still out of the reach of a simple Mutant.
I trudged into the tangleweeds that smothered the trunks of the trees in the Woods, feeling a zooful of bugs brushing past me as I hacked my way through an overgrown pathway. When the Haunted Woods had been new, this path was well-worn and walked on by Neopets of all types—now, with more exciting lands available, like Maraqua and Meridell, the spooky comforts of the Haunted Woods had become obsolete. I wondered if those of the Virupet Space Station found the same social apathy directed towards them, the intricate gears of their home corrupting with neglected rust.
Soon, it became dark, though it was always dark in the Haunted Woods—though many of the trees had been reduced to skeletons, they were packed so tightly together that the canopy of their branches blocked out sunlight or moonlight to allow nocturnal creatures to roam whenever they pleased. My eyes adjusted to this lighting, glowing red like a flashlight covered in cellophane. I knew my way there, and somehow I felt comfortable amongst the thick and threatening brush, almost as if I belonged there. I resisted the feeling, quietly appalled, and forged ahead.
I'd estimate I was about half of my way to the Esophagor before I came across the flower. It was in a clearing I didn't remember from the few times I had traveled that path—perhaps lightning had demolished a few trees, and left this makeshift meadow in its wake. It wasn't the sudden dousing of moonlight that surprised me, though—it was the flower in the center of it all, a massive organism with a stem as big as a small tree trunk. It appeared like a sunflower, but with a red bloom at the top of it. Unlike plants native to the Haunted Woods, it wasn't gnarled, sickly, or fearsome-looking; in fact, under the platinum-lining of moonshine, it was the epitome of beauty, slowly unfolding its petals to the silver sunlight.
I approached it reverently, as if it were some sort of idle. I crouched low to the ground, arching my head upwards and practically crawling towards it cautiously. It was fanning itself wonderfully in front of the moon, and although I knew no plants that looked like this flower were nocturnal, all my common knowledge of plant life dissolved in the face of its vivacity. I didn't seek to harvest it—just to touch it would be enough, to place my paws against the silken petals of an immaculate being. Perhaps some of its brilliance would rub off on me, and I would be cured of this horrid curse—by pure association I would be absolved of my sins …
I wasn't allowed to get closer, though, without consequence. Without warning, the flower seemed to unzip itself down the middle, splitting the flower into two halves—two halves of a jaw, lined with razor-like teeth. It suddenly moved, as if the stem were an agile, muscular neck, and turned that horrible maw towards me. I was too shocked by the sudden transformation of my momentary god into a demon, my mouth slightly ajar and noiseless. The terrible beast gave an unearthly shriek, and lunged for me, saliva dripping from what passed for lips.
Thankfully for my pathetic paralyzed self, the beast stopped halfway in front of me, its mouth still side open. It pulled back suddenly, and seemed to cock its head in question. It made a little gurgling noise of inquiry, and then held out its petals as if in reception of me, their green, leathery perfection contrasting strangely to the monstrosity that was its flower. I perceived that it was welcoming me now, altering my status from dinner to guest in a matter of moments. It seemed genuinely kind, and it gave little cooing noises and seemed playful.
No matter its personality, though, I could not overcome its appearance. My shock turned to repulsion, and I screamed though no longer afraid. I darted underneath the flower, underneath its gargoyle-like shadow, and to the other side of the Woods, stretching my little feet fast to carry me great distances quickly. I was nearly three-quarters of the way to the Esophagor when I heard the moans of the flower—can I even call it that?—from far away, like the howling of a lone wolf on a moonless night. I turned my ears off to the melancholy melody, and continued towards the Esophagor, preferring its abuse and howls to the soul-shaking hollowness of the flower's.
The days passed by blissfully. I would have never imagined myself calling the passage of days anything glorious—before Vali arrived, I spent them heckling passing Neopets to complete my tasks, or reluctantly supplying Edna with needed spell material for knowledge of the outside world. With Vali, though, I no longer chafed for a scant Neopet to bring me information that things existed outside of me to ease the pain of loneliness, of being planted in a solitary, antisocial space. Vali provided me with companionship and an insight into her tiny world, seen within her head.
She was growing—I wasn't sure if this was typical. I assumed Paint Brushes lasted forever, and Vali would remain the innocent, wide-eyed child I weaned on my sap and Ghostkersandwiches. But she was increasing in size, and darkening in color, and beginning to lose teeth to make way for canines formidable enough to intimidate me. Yet she was still as lighthearted as ever, building enormous structures in the mud around me and then parading around them like a monster, stomping on them with beastly cries beneath her talon-like feet.
I stopped participating as frequently in her games, as she no longer relied on me for a playmate. She had learned ways to entertain herself free of other people, and sometimes I would see her sitting alone on a rock, one hand propped beneath her chin in the signature of deep thought. Sometimes it would be enough to just think alongside her, both of us lost inside our respective minds but united through our physical closeness. She'd share her observations, so simple and rudimentary, but declare them with such expression and revelation that I couldn't help but be enchanted by them all over again. Occasionally, I'd offer some intellectual fare for her to chew on, and it would take her days to process. When she had thought it through, she'd come back to me and we'd discuss the manner, her eyes twinkling with wonder as if I were some god of wisdom. These times I cherished the most, more than seeing her at play. She alternated between pursuits of the mind and pursuits of the body equally, but the former was my domain. When she entered it, we danced together through fields of enlightenment, a serenade usually done in solitude.
Albert disappeared for a while, but neither of us seemed to mind his absence. The Esophagor groaned from his pit about his stomach, whether it be bloated or empty, and for a while the Esophagor resorted to handing out Food Quests to passersby. We collaborated sometimes, when the Neopet came to me first, mostly because I could not sleep with the Esophagor's relentless groaning. My sleeping patterns, much to my delight, had become regular and followed along Vali's, allowing me to be awake for every moment she grew.
Little did I know that when Albert reappeared, it was a fateful moment. It seemed like it had been about a month since I had seen him, and Vali had grown substantially. When he arrived at my trunk, he was dirty and battered, either having been pummeled by the Esophagor for abandoning its needs or from something previous to re-entering his home territory. Whatever had happened, it seemed to have beaten his morale as well, as he talked as if he were out of breath constantly, his words slurring in one extended exhalation. He was startled, at first, by Vali's growth, doing a doubletake on Vali, who had likely tripled in size. He scratched the lower part of his brain, raising an eyebrow.
"Christ, what've you been feeding her?"
"More than I'd care to admit," I replied aloofly. He seemed to accept this as an answer and then stood there quietly, searching for something to say. It was obvious he had come to me with a purpose, but as he scuffed his toe across the dirt, it became more obvious that while his conscience had brought him to me, his mouth wouldn't follow through with orders.
Ignoring his awkwardness—that is, not staring down at him demandingly and instead pretending that he didn't exist—seemed to soothe his hesitation to tell me whatever was troubling him. Just as I was about to be engrossed a piece of literature Edna had exchanged with me for some dusty mushrooms circling my trunk, Albert finally spoke up.
"So, I've got some bad news, Brain Tree," he admitted, scratching the back of his head. Articulation difficulties seemed to make the Kacheek intolerably itchy.
"Is there any good news to outweigh this bad news, by chance?" I inquired, looking up from the pages of my book. "There usually is."
"Not unless you want me to lie to you."
"I only seek the truth. Fibs are a waste of my time. Proceed, Kacheek."
"Well, you, uh, know how I was gone for like, a month, right?"
"It was difficult to miss."
"Yeah … hey, did you miss me?"
"Not really."
"Oh." He tried to conceal his disappointment then, but the disappointment blended suddenly with a sort of sick contentment, presumably with the bad news he was about to bestow. If I had a stomach, it might've done flip-flops, though I was never one to get too frazzled over a bad spell. What Albert had to deliver, however, was more than just a momentary rain shower. "See, I spent the better part of that month in jail."
"I see."
"When I went to drop off that money to Fernypoo, uh, well, I was kind of dressed to be disguised, but something went wrong and she saw my face."
"Oh."
"Yeah, and then I came here, and then the Esophagor had Bloaty Belly, and I needed to get him so Flat-u-less Tablets, so I went to Neopia Central."
"Is its belly better now?"
"Oh yes, much." He took in a deep breath to continue his saga. "Anyway, I didn't have any Neopoints, so I had to steal the darn things. The other day, I guess, Fernypoo had called the police with a Pet of my description, and the cops caught me on the whole 'no receipt' bit with my Flat-u-less Tablets."
"Couldn't you have just said that you threw it away?"
Albert paused, staring at me dumbly. "Uh, I guess so." Another pause. "But I didn't." He tried to reason. "But they probably would've anyway, what with me fitting their description and all." He brushed off this tangent with a flick of his paw. "But back to what I was talking about. Anyway, they questioned me for the longest time, like you would not believe. They were butt holes about it too, but I got consistent meals, so that was pretty awesome. I broke down, eventually, though."
"And what does that mean to me?"
"It means you've been convicted of kidnapping Vali, more or less."
I didn't even think before reaching out a branch like a baseball bat and hitting a homerun with Albert as my ball. Usually, this flagrant abuse of the hardy Kacheek relieved my tension immediately, but respite was suddenly hard to come by. All of the potential implications of this development, lie or not (though the Kacheek was not one to lie, at least not intentionally), ran through my head like Poogle racers crossing the finish line, all too neck-and-neck to uncover the most feasible result of Albert's action. A breeze seemed to jolt through me, though the winds were still that day, and I stared forward into space blankly, watching but not seeing trees, their gnarled, knotty trunks like the Devil's fingers tugging Heaven down from below.
I stayed like that for a while—at least until Vali returned. (She had departed upon seeing Albert, having retained her dislike for him from her early years.) She first tried to grasp my attention by patting me on the trunk, and then slamming into me with her shoulder. I was conscious of her movements, but had no desire to react to them. Eventually, she began to yell at me—over the month, she had learned to speak beyond squeals, giggles, and burps (which had contributed greatly to our exchange of thoughts), and I must say, she spoke most eloquently for a Grarrl her age—and still yet a Baby! How she had progressed, how much she would progress, far and past me, enabled by her mobile limbs!
Finally, I wheezed out a sentence for her benefit—something low, and sad, that instructed her to leave me be. At first, she vehemently refused to do so, demanding to know what troubled me. But I would not yield the answer, and eventually she abandoned me more out of frustration than out of my request, sighing, annoyed.
Edna came soon after, as I suspected she would. As far as mail went, I was strongly against mailboxes, as most were made from the wood of my brothers, and I had no desire to promote the destruction of my kinship. Consequentially, all mail that might've come to me was instead redirected to Edna—mostly land and ownership bills (which I steadfastly ignored, as I had been there far before any settlement found its way into the Haunted Woods), but occasionally Edna brought the scant fanmail which I received with an amused snort. Now, however, Edna brought grim tidings, visible from far away on her face. There was a single letter in her hand, and with my keen eyes I could see, regrettably, that it was marked from the Neopian government.
I would explain the complex situation of the Neopian government here, and how the monarchies, democracies, and oligarchies all fit neatly under the umbrella of Neopia's world government, but this is a tale of sentiment, not of politics. Suffice to say the seal of the Neopian government struck fear in my heart, for they were the controlling hand of the Neopian police force who, if Albert had been telling the truth, would be after me for the kidnapping of Vali. As I mentioned, the conglomerate Neopian government wasn't a pure democracy, and as it stood, due process was not needed to convict someone of a crime. This explained the proliferation of freezing.
Edna didn't say a word as she handed the envelope to me—her gaze was solemn, and she fixed it unwavering on my face. The envelope was already opened at the top with a knife, making the note easy to slip out—unfortunate, as I wanted to delay seeing what was inevitably written on the piece of paper inside. Denial of my fate, though, would no more eradicate it than seeing it in print. Shaking independent of the breeze, my branches unfolded, and the funeral knell tolled somewhere in the distance.
The letter read as follows:
Dear Mr. Brain Tree:
The Neopian Police Force have received a number of complaints against your behavior in the past few years. (Here I factored in that they were also including that incident with that Usul and Krawk that was infamously and unfairly portrayed in the Defenders of Neopia.) Keeping in mind the safety of all Neopian inhabitants and visitors to the Haunted Woods, we regret to inform you that we have come upon a unanimous decision for a solution to the problem:
On the 25th day of the month of Hiding, the Neopian Land Management Council will come to remove you from the premises via axe and chainsaw.
Sincerely,
The Neopian Government
Fear struck through me like a handful of snow thrown into a hole in my trunk. Terror was not an emotion I was familiar with—but ever since Vali came around, it seemed to afflict me every day like a chronic condition. Now, however, it did not come in a wave and pass as it did when I saw Vali commit something potentially dangerous—now it permeated through my veins, and solidified itself as a permanent presence inside my wood.
I did not have to be a genius to know what 'remove you from the premises via axe and chainsaw' meant. It was an elementary concept, feared by every tree the moment they planted themselves down well enough to be too difficult to uproot. It was an act committed by burly Lupe lumberjacks daily without regard to the trees in question, and it sent a fresh sense of fear down the length of my trunk every time I took the letter seriously.
I was going to be chopped down.