To Rescue a Retinue

Red and blue banners snapped in the wind as King Skarl and his retinue stepped outside the Hall of Heroes. A dozen metres ahead, Salayne Ritad stood a little straighter at his post and took a deep, calming breath of spiced market air. Though the midday sun baked the stone underfoot, Altador's crisp, coastal breeze offered some relief from the heat.

"Welcome to the Bazaar District, King Skarl," Salayne recited under his breath. This was his first official tour, and he wanted to start off on his best foot. "I'm here to escort you to our finest shops, beginning with the Illustrious Armoury..."

Team Altador had volunteered to be official guides while the city played host to Neopia's greatest rulers. Their captain, Foltaggio, had taken a sudden leave of absence on the Isle of Yooyu, leaving the team feeling unmoored. Salayne was not as upset about their captain's withdrawal as the rest of them. After the dismal results of Cup XIX, he knew Foltaggio needed the break, just as his teammates needed a renewed sense of purpose.

Salayne tore his mind from the Isle of Yooyu as the red-robed king approached. This was his purpose, now.

"Welco-" A pair of Meridell guards hefted a large trunk of coins into Salayne's arms, nearly throwing him off balance. "Er, welcome, King Skarl! I'm here to-"

"Where is this glorious Shopping Centre?!" the king shouted. "Pick up the pace, you sluggards!"

Salayne fell into step with the king's retinue as they shuffled ahead. Despite their two month stay, he didn't recognize many of Skarl's aides; rumour had it, they were on constant rotation.

"Has the grey made him grumpier?" he quietly asked a Shoyru holding a sack of hearty foods-snacks, he supposed, for the road.

The king whirled around to erupt once more, but stopped short at the sight of Salayne walking behind him. "You, Elephante! Where do I know you from?"

The goalkeeper tried to be heartened by this. It was the whole reason the team had volunteered-so they could be familiar faces for troubled visitors in a foreign land. But in this moment, beneath King Skarl's beady red eyes, he wished he'd gone to the Isle, too.

"Oh ho, yes, I remember. You're that keeper for Team Altador. Played like dung."

"Er, thanks." Salayne shifted the weight of the trunk in his arms.

"Strong, though. Could use that. The grey has turned my guards weak and pathetic! Prove your worth here and I'll make you my squire."

As Skarl marched forth, Salayne took note of how dismal the retinue felt: eyes downcast, shoulders slumped. He gently nudged the Shoyru, and quietly shared a little joke to try to build some camaraderie.

"Squire for Skarl? I'd rather face ten Darigan Yooyus!"

A gasp rippled across the retinue, who all shrunk away from the king. Apparently Salayne's voice carried, even in a whisper. The Shoyru gave him a sideways glance, until-

"BAHAHAHA. Oh my," King Skarl said, wiping tears that'd sprung to his eyes. "My, my. I can't remember my last laugh. You're a funny one. Thank you. SCARDELL! Take that chest."

A Meerca squire juggling an armful of scrolls quivered and approached, but Salayne hefted the chest to his shoulder.

"That is quite alright, your majesty," he said, stepping forward to take the lead. "I can handle this one. Allow me to escort you to the Illustrious Armoury."

As they walked the streets of his beloved city, Salayne took courage from being on home turf. The sun was shining, and Sasha the Dancer was performing in the square. Salayne carried the conversation, giving the guards and squires a breather from their king. "Have you tried Altador Buns yet? They're truly a delicacy. Just a bite perks me right up."

As the entourage from Meridell slowly made way, Sasha the Dancer, a Protector of Altador, watched how Salayne's strong instincts smoothed over King Skarl's thorny personality. When her performance concluded, she dashed to the Hall of Heroes with a proposal to King Altador: perhaps the goalkeeper ought to become an official Council Aide.

A Trick Up Their Sling

Reb Weemelott, the spotted Nimmo from Brightvale, captures the first Yooyu. He's quick, he's crafty, he's going for goal-! But no, it's a trick! And "Weems" does not appear to be in on it... the Yooyu has wrapped around his arm! Fenny, Roo Island's left defender, is doubled over-not injured, though. She and Brightvale's goalkeeper appear to be... laughing?

Gordo Gunnels calls for a time-out. Once a Roo Island player himself, he got traded to Brightvale in Altador Cup VI. In return, Roo got "Squeaky Clean" Tressif-Brightvale's old captain!

The Roo Island commentator stopped as whistles blew, and Gordo crossed the pitch to Weems.

"What's going on? The gummy Yooyus have never been this sticky before!"

From the shade of the far goalposts, a yellow Ogrin dressed in Brightvale green watched the chaos unfold: when the first gummy Yooyu was forcibly removed from Weems's elbow pad, its replacement reattached in exactly the same way. Weems wriggled his arm around in panic, and Orie tried to suppress another laugh. Not easy with Fenny giggling uncontrollably from the Roo side of the pitch.

Of course Tressif clocked the two guilty parties, that old spoilsport; he waved Orie over to the sidelines to talk. She sighed, taking in the hijinks for a moment longer, then followed him to the water table.

"What do you think you're doing, Orie?" her former captain asked. He was dressed in that nonsensical Roo Island uniform now, and it was hard to take him seriously. If you asked Orie, he'd looked better in green and gold.

"Playing a scrimmage with a buncha old friends," she said, leaning against the table. "Fancy commentator you've got there, by the way."

"He needs practice, too. And that's beside the point."

"Do tell, Squeaky." She playfully flicked at a bell on his uniform.

Tressif appeared to chew on words for a moment, seemingly fighting whether to address the old nickname or accuse her outright. Orie raised an eyebrow in anticipation.

"I was only called 'Squeaky Clean' because I played for 'Dirty Brightvale,'" he said, adjusting his Yooyu sling. "I'm hardly 'Squeaky' at Roo."

"Ooh, what are you now, a devilish rogue? I'd love to learn your new tricks."

Turning a red Lupe redder; an old pastime of hers. Orie almost forgot about the jester collar.

Tressif shook his head and started listing out her pranks. "Switching out all the team photos with Hagan fanart, sticking weights in the gummy Yooyus, sneaking springs into Fenny's boots?! And let's not talk about the hundreds of motes we keep finding places."

She glanced over to Weems, who'd ditched the elbow pad. Gordo was examining it now-wouldn't be long before they found the strong magnets in his old "ice pick." She and Fenny had placed them behind the metal piece he used to elbow opponents in the gut, hoping the magnets would pull in the old weights they'd stuck in the gummies.

"Don't you miss it?" she said, turning back to Tressif. "Just a little?"

"Orie. There's a reason I left. I'm happy here. I don't have to look around every corner for evidence that you've been cheating." He rubbed his sling arm again.

"It's just been harmless fun."

"Not when it starts seeping into the pitch. I know Brightvale..."

"The springs were Fenny's idea, not mine!"

Tressif's voice lowered. "Gordo brought you all here in the hopes that the good-natured sportsmanship at Roo could rub off on your team-not the other way around."

"I dunno. I think I've picked up a thing or two from Fenny." Orie nodded to centre field, where Weems was donning a new Roo Island elbow pad. "There goes the old 'ice pick,' for one thing. Then the weights in the gummy Yooyus? Made us all stronger. And you have to admit, the boots turned Fenny into a formidable presence on the pitch for a day. That spring in her step gave her confidence that she'd lacked. I've learned... I don't know... maybe there's more to fun than winning."

"Hmph." Tressif searched Orie's face for a tell. "And the... Hagan drawings?"

"Ahh, that was just some good laughs. Though..." Orie paused, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "You may want to check inside your Yooyu sling."

Tressif tilted his head as she darted off. He unbuckled his sling and found a long, bumpy strip of athletic tape stuck to the inside edge. When he ripped off the tape, a half dozen rock motes tumbled to the ground.

He laughed, just as the whistles blew.

Dacardia
Rocky Foundations

"It's official," Camila said. "We're cursed."

The young Eyrie tossed the bottle in her hand to the ground. It landed almost silently in the sand, so not a single member fo the team paid it any mind, nor did they bat an eye when Camila dramatically twirled around and pretended to faint. To add extra dramatic flair, she even draped the copy of the Neopian Times she'd found in the bottle-presumably with the news that made her declare they were cursed-over her eyes. Tyrra was, as always, nose-deep in another scrimmage plan to try and 'prove Dacardia has what it takes' on the Neopian stage; Magnus was juggling Crabby-bots as a reflex exercise, eyeing them like the hungry Grarrl he was; and Ruffaele...

"I mean, come on! They're saying he saved all of Meri Acres! How in the name of Grand Councillor Yuli am I supposed to compete with that?!"

...Was, true to his nickname, "rowdy" as ever over comping second in his imaginary popularity contest against fellow Gelert and Altador Cup heartthrob, Tandrak Shaye.

"Are you still sore about all that?" Tyrra asked without looking up.

"Get over it, bud. We're in the big leagues now; you can't be the only hunk on the scene anymore." Magnus caught the last of the Crabby-bots he'd been juggling and set them down on the ground, letting them scuttle away as he went to clap his teammate encouragingly on the shoulder. "Besides, you-"

"I'm sorry," interrupted Camila, sitting up abruptly, "but are we not going to talk about the fact that the Altador Cup was cancelled this year?"

That finally got everyone's attention. Magnus's eyes went wide, Rowdy's ears shot straight into the air, and Tyrra's big, strong Kougra claws nearly tore through the paper she'd been writing on.

"What?!" she cried. "No, that can't-but we just made it to the Cup!"

"We haven't even shown them what we're made of yet," Magnus said.

"I haven't had a chance to show up Tandrak Shaye, either!" Rowdy growled.

Camila rolled her eyes. "Oh, will you shut up about-"

"This is terrible." Tyrra buried her face in her paws. Her shoulders hitched as she took a deep breath. "We've worked so hard to get where we are, and at every turn something's stopped us, and then we finally make it and we..."

"We almost placed last!" Camila lamented. She plopped down in the sand, wings drooping behind her, and lifting her arms into the air imploringly. "Why is the universe giving us such a hard time?"

Suddenly, Jarek stook up from his log bench. He had been silent for most of his teammates' exchange, but he had finally had enough.

"RRAAAARRRRGGGHHHH!!!" he cried out, making each and every one of his teammates jump. They all looked at him, and he pounded his fists together.

"Everyone's having a hard time!" the Chia shouted. "Us! Them! Altador! Meridell! Even-"

"Well, Meridell's doing fine, since Tandrak Shaye-"

"ENOUGH!" Jarek stomped his feet. Rowdy fell silent right away. "Take a lesson from Tandrak! He's helping others. Just like others helped u with the storm!"

With another mighty growl, Jarek kicked at the sand. For a moment, the only sound was the waves beating against the shore - the ocean, on the other side of which were so many other lands, filled with so many other caring Neopians.

Tyrra was the first to speak. "You're right, Jarek. They all came to our aid when we needed it, and with this Grey Curse..."

"See? There is a curse," Camila chipped in, a broad grin on her face. Tyrra smiled back, catching the joke her teammate had lobbid, and continued.

"We should try to help the other teams break it, or at least cheer them up if we can. Placing so low doesn't matter - we don't play Yooyuball to win, we play it because we want to be part of something bigger."

"Hear, hear," Magnus said.

"And," Rowdy added, his cockiness returning, "maybe this'll finally get my name up next to Tandrak's."

"Ooh, yeah, maybe he'll finally notice you," Camila teased.

"Hey!"

Before the two of them could get into one of their playful arguments, though, Tyrra interrupted. "What do you think we should do, Jarek?"

Four heads turned to Jarek. He hummed, low and rumbling, in thought. But just then, a Crabby-bot scuttled into view. It moved up to Magnus and tugged on his tail to get his attention; when he looked down, it lifted both claws as if asking to be picked up.

Jarek smiled. "We have so many little helpers. If Lania Cragg will lend us some..."

Tyrra clapped her paws together. She'd known Jarek the longest out of all of them, so she knew exactly where he was going with this. There wasn't much they could do individually, but with a whole team...

"We could build something to help all the other teams get back on their paws!" She grinned, wide and toothy, and threw an arm around Jarek's shoulders. Now that, my friend, sounds like a game plan."

Playing With Fire

"Remember: don't aim for the big bullseye," Layton said to Tormo, clearly using his captain voice. "Do aim for the giant field of hay. And make sure those Yooyus are holding on tight."

The skies around Darigan Citadel were clear. There wasn't so much as a wispy cloud to obscure the light of the full moon, which gave everything a beautifully eerie glow. It was the perfect night to test out this... "experimental practice," Layton had called it. Sure. Practice.

Tandrak, the team's right forward, pulled Reshar aside as the goalkeeper was placing the final Yooyu. "Keep an eye on 'Tormo the Terror' for me, would you?" He nodded towards the Bruce, who earned his nickname by letting practical jokes go a little too far, and pat Reshar on the back. "Thanks, mate."

The two land-bound players would be punting the Yooyus from their practice pitch in the Citadel, leaving the three winged players to catch them mid-flight over Meri Acres-so Tandrak couldn't exactly keep an eye on their most chaotic teammate himself.

With the Yooyus in place, Tandrak, Layton, and Kep dove into the crisp night air.

Meridell had been the first land in Neopia to be hit by the grey. Tandrak remembered when the team first saw it spreading, even from up in the Citadel. Tormo had made some stupid joke about their rival's downfall, but their captain quickly put him in his place. They all knew this tragedy went far beyond the confines of the pitch.

The land now shone under the pale moonlight, silver and still and silent. The three Darigan players flew ever closer to Meri Acres, the closest terrain to the Citadel. Layton called them into position over their "goal"-the field of hay-but before they'd even given the signal, a fiery ball of light whizzed towards them from above.

"What the-? We didn't line up any Fire Yooyus!" Layton shouted. "Dang it, Tormo, do you ever think things through?!"

Tandrak swooped, pinning his wingsa gainst his back to gain momentum. He caught the Fire Yooyu mere metres from the ground, opened his wings to slow himself, and crash landed into a decently padded surface. Bailed out by a bale of hay.

"Ow," he said; his right wing had still struck the ground, and he knew he had a bruise coming on.

Then came the screams. Tandrak swore at Tormo under his breath. Fire raining down from Darigan? That certainly painted a picture.

"We're under attack!" Someone was shouting nearby. "We're under attack!"

The haybale caught a spark as he dug his way out of it, despite his attempts to cradle the burning Yooyu. He tossed it toward a dirt patch and climbed to his feet, where he came face-to-face with the yellow Gelert who was raising the alarm.

"Hey," Tandrak said, giving the old fellow his trademark smile.

The Gelert whacked him with the side of his pitchfork. "Help!!"

"Ow!" Tandrak said, blinking and rubbing his temple. "Ever tried Yooyuball? You got the arms for it."

"Hold yer Hoovles... yer that handsome devil from Darigan."

Tandrak, doing his best to save face for his team, flashed another smile. "Guilty as charged."

Two more Fire Yooyus streaked down from the sky, and his two teammates were diving to intercept them. Before the farmer could turn to see them, Tandrak patted him on the shoulder. "Ahh, look at us," he said. "Two Gelerts in our prime."

"Yer just tryin' to beguile me with yer good looks."

"Is it working?" Tandrak said, but he could feel the warmth from the now-burning haybale behind him.

The farmer's eyes narrowed as others began to gather around.

"Kicking us while we're down, are you" It was a familiar voice-Fiorina, the Eyrie from Team Meridell. Tandrak vaguely remembered reading that she was from Meri Acres.

"Typical Darigan," said Ilsa, another player from Meridell. He picked up the Fire Yooyu and tossed it to Fiorina. "I'll get the guards."

"The Fire Yooyus weren't part of the plan," Tandrak started to say, then; "Duck!"

Ilsana instinctively crouched, allowing the Darigan foward to catch a Normal Yooyu before it smacked into anyone else.

"Wouldn't normally say this to a rival, but... good reflexes."

Ilsa growled and stole the Yooyu from Tandrak's arms.

"Wait!" Fiorina said. "Look what the Yooyu's holding." She coaked the Fire Yooyu open, reavealing a child's toy: Dargian stacking rings.

Ilsa opened the Normal Yooyu, which held a bundle of blankets.

"Are these..."

"Supplies, resources, stuff you might need," Tandrak said, though he was looking to the sky-thankfully now devoid of fire. "And there's a lot more coming. I recommend spreading out and putting those big strong arms to use. Lookin' at you, farmer-catch!"

An Exciting Proposition

Nothing could beat a sweet treat after exercise. For two Faerieland players, Faerie Foods had become a post-practice tradition, and the Earth Faerie in charge new them by name and order: Strawberry Faerie Sunday for Whimsi and Dark Faerie Sundae for Delma.

"Kakoni, he's our team captain, he was telling me that sometimes I get too tied up in talking to the refs! But the refs are so interesting, and I think it's too bad people only ever yell at the refs. So I get to know what refs are like, I read the rulebook!"

Delma watched the shopkeeper's eyes lose focus as Whimsi kept talking. They had already received their sundaes, but with no one else in line, the Earth Faerie had no way to politely turn the chatty Vandagyre away. They were, yet again, her only patrions.

"Apparently," Whimsi continued, totally oblivious, "there's an archaic off-sides foul that most tournaments have ruled unnecessary!"

"Whimsi," Delma softly interrupted. "Your sundae..."

"Oops!" Whimsi said, licking the strawberry sauce from her feathers.

With that momentary pause, the Zafara guided her talkative teammate out of the shop and back into Faerie City. Lately, the place had begun to feel so... empty. Fewer faeries in the shops and parks. The few they did see out walking were clearly focused on a destination and hardly made eye contact with any of the Neopets they passed.

When the world was in chaos, Fyora's faeries got busy.

Whimsi was halfway through reciting the Yooyuball rulebook when Delma spoke up.

"Everyone's so stressed here."

"Mhmm! And Busy!" Without missing a beat, Whimsi switched to Delma's topic and dropped her own. Delma appreciated that about her friend; while Whimsi certainly talked enough for the two of them, she always mad room for the words Delma did care to share.

"I know their work is important, but the faeries could use something fun, something to take their mind off things," Delma continued, thinking out loud. "They might not know it but... they could use sports. And honestly, the team could use some enthusiasm in return!"

Whimsi scrunched her face, evidently experiencing a brain freeze, but held up a wing to speak once it receded. "I don't know if the stadium could get any louder than last year. Didn't you hear all the pretty bells our fans were ringing? It was magical!"

"True, but... how many faeries did you remember seeing in the stands?"

"Hmm. Maybe just the Fire Faerie? The one who plays Gormball?"

"Exactly. And she was cheering for Virtupets."

After the last Cup, the team had felt proud of their higher placement. But returning home, there were no parties, no celebrations... they'd hardly received "congratulations" from the shopkeepers who knew they played for Team Faerieland, Faerie Foods excepting.

"We have the unique ability to give faeries something-or someone-to root for, with lower stakes than 'the end of the world.' If we can just get their attention... maybe for an exhibition match? I think we'd find some new fans who'd be excited to cheer us on."

Whimsi gasped and nearly flung her sundae. "I Know JUST the faerie!"

The Vandagyre flew off, and Delma followed. They left Faerie City, passed over clear springs and verdant fields, and arrived at a colourful wheel and the Light Faerie who ran it.

"Hi, Whimsi!" Vivianna said, waving cheerfully as they landed. "Here for a spin?"

"Not quite! Here to see if you could drum up excitement for Delma's wonderful idea!" Whimsi lifted a wing, presenting Delma in dramatic fashion. "Go ahead, tell her!"

"We want to play an exhibition match, here in Faerieland." Delma said, "for... fun."

Agh, Delma thought, that would've sounded so much more exciting if Whimsi had explained it.

But somehow, the Light Faerie lit up, puming a fist in the air. "Oh my Fyora, I LOVE that! I could make flyers, if your team could put them up! Then we could get Delina to craft some cosy bleachers -you'll need more seating at your practice pitch. And and and! We can tap the Employment Agency to gather event volunteers!"

"oooh, yes! And if we could get a certain big name to show for the match," Whimsi said, gesturing to Delma's melting Dark Faerie Sundae, "who could resist coming? We can set up a dark throne on a nearby bluff and maybe, just maybe..."

"Do you really think she'd show?" Delma's eyes went wide. Jhudora had always been her favourite of the famous faeries-she wouldn't have dreamt of inviting her.

But Vivianna was tapping her chin, deep in thought. "I think we could pull some strings," she said. "We all need a break from work, after all..."

"FLYER LOCATIONS," Whimsi started, listing ideas on her feathers, Faerie Foods, Bookshop, the Healing Springs-OH! The Discarded Magical Blue Grundo Plushie of Prosperity, of course!!"

"I've always wanted to go to a game myself," Vivianna continued. "The Wheel of Excitement just gets busy sometimes. But that's hardly an excuse! I miss being around other faeries and Neopets-and from what Whimsi tells me, there's nothing like a good game of Yooyuball to bring a community together."

"It's true," Delma said, smiling at Whimsi as she spun circles in anticipation. "It's how I've met my very best friends."

More Than Just A Scary Face

Wisps of neon-pink smoke and shadow rose into the air, mingling with the mist of the Haunted Woods. High on a hill, atop a gnarled and leafless tree, sat a Wraith, gazing out at the land before him-or rather, a Draik who was painted Wraith.

Crade Talvos sighed and held out a clawed hand before himself, examining, not for the first time, the way swirls of light danced on his palms. He had just returned from visiting a relagive in Faerieland, and while he had been there, he'd felt more eyes on him than he was used to-more scared eyes. He supposed it was reasonable, considering how he resembled the Wraiths that had destroyed Faerieland before, but...

Suddenly, a familiar flash of flames burst into his vision. The wings of his teammate Zo Junior flapped as he alighted next to Crade on the tree. "I didn't know you were back already, Crade," the Korbat said. "You should have come to say hi, the team was hoping to take you to the Fairground to celebrate your return!"

Crade forced a weak smile. "Thanks Zo, but I'm not really in the mood for the Coconut Shy today."

Ah-he shouldn't have said that. Now Zo would know something was bothering him, because he loved the Coconut Shy. They all did; it helped them practice for Yooyuball.

Zo frowned. "Is something eating you?"

Crade's smile faded. He looked out at the Haunted Woods, at the place he called home. "Hey, Zo... Do you think I'm..." He paused, biting his wispy lip. "...Scary?"

Zo tilted his head to the side. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"You remember I wasn't always painted Wraith, right? THat before I tried out for the team, back when I was a waterboy, I was just purple?"

"Yeah...?"

"Well... I painted myself because I thought it would make me feel more comfortable around you guys... and maybe then I'd feel more like myself. I thought it might make you guys take me more seriously as a candidate for the team, but... I dion't know. When I was in Faerieland, some of the other Neopets there-and even some of the Faeries-seemed like they were scared of me. I thought looking scary was what I wanted, but I'm starting to think painting myself Wraith wasn't a great idea."

That gave Zo pause. He was silent a moment; then, after chewing on the inside of his cheek, he said, "Crade... do you think we brought you onto the team becasuse you painted yourself Wraith?"

Crade's hands clenched together. His throat felt tight-he wasn't sure if he could say anything. He couldn't even look at Zo, even though Zo shifted closer and draped a comforting wing around him.

"Hey, do you remember Wan Dirx?" Zo asked.

That perked Crade up a little. "How could I forget? He used to be your star defender, and he even recommended me as his replacement for some reason."

"It wasn't just 'some reason.' You know we had dozens of Neopets-and monsters-lined up to play for us when he retired? When you were still purple?" Zo grinned, while Crade's eyebrows shot up. "We coulda picked any of them. Dirx coulda picked any of them. But we all chose you. In fact, we didn't even realise you'd painted yourself Wraith until after we'd decided you were the only defender for us."

Crade looked down at the woods below. A few Ghostkerchiefs fluttered by, all of them chasing after a Zomutt. They caught up quickly; when they did, the Zomutt flopped over and batted at them while they danced and hovered above it.

"Why?" Crade asked, softly.

"Because we knew you." Zo stook up on his branch and put his hands on his hips, wings folding behind him. "You'd been with us longer than anyone else, and we'd seen you on the pitch. Sure you weren't as strong as Dir, or as big as some of the tryouts-"

"Thanks," Crade said flatly.

"-But, if you'll let me finish... We knew you had heart. You organised that birthday party for Fanetti, and helped get Flankins out of Captain Krell's fur the night before our first match in the Year 10 Cup. Not to mention how many times you've stopped Brains from trying to eat the Brain Tree."

"He seems to think its branches make for good toothpicks."

"And speaking of Brains," Zo Junior said, "You were the first one who realized he could say more than just 'braaaaaiiinnnssss' over and over again!"

Crade laughed. "I don't know why he insists on keeping up that schtick."

"Me neither." Zo laughted too, but his smile quickly faded into a more contemplative look. "My point is... you're a part of the team no matter what you look like. So if you want to go back to being purple, you don't have to worry."

Crade was silent for a moment.

"Thank you," he said at last.

"So... do you want to go back to being purple?"

Crade thought about it for a moment. He looked out at the treetops again, and listened to the howlof the werelupes, and the shuffling of branches, and the cackling of witches... and he caught sight, once more, of the wisps of smoke and light swirling and dissipating from him. As the mix of darkness and light faded into the mist, Crade smiled. He like how that looked-and in that moment, he realised that he felt more at home here, and in his own skin, than ever. Here in the Haunted Woods, where scary was good and where he had found his place among friends.

"...No," he said at last, and as the words left his mouth, he was surprised to find how true it was. "I don't."

Hitting Lake Bottom

After a grey practice on a grey pitch by a grey lake, Erli Quinnock hit the books.

Not the offensive/defencsive/play kind, though strategy was normally of great interest to Erli. No, this work was purely numbers and Neopoints. He felt like his team could do more to support their community, especially after the events of this last year.

"If everyone could hang around a bit longer, I'd appreciate it," the purple Peophin said, double-checking a larger calculation in his mind. "I'd like to figure out today, if possible, how much we can afford to donate. Any last ideas?"

Even a little would mean a lot; the grey had hit Kiko Lake harder than most Neopians realised. The once-colourful town relied heavily on thourism, and the shore had been barren of visitors from the moment that sad colour had spilled across the entire lake.

A pink Kiko peered over Erli's shoulder. "What about coach's fees? If we had to raise them after we did well... could we lower them after placing 16th?"

"I don't think it works that way, Meelah," Erli said. "We'd be incentivized to do worse."

Meelah huffed and rested on a bench in the locker room. "Kinda feels like raising it has the same effect."

OUt of the corner of his eye, Erli caught their captain slowly drifting out of the room without even removing his Yooyuball equipment.

"Poke," he said, leaning back. "I remember you saying something about us having a rainy day fund?"

The brown Kiko paused, then turned back into the room. "Did I?" he said, squinting.

"Yeah," a quiet Uni said from one of the benches. Lili paused midway through removing her cleats, apparently tracing a distant memory. "I remember... we were at the big post-Cup party my first year, and the mean Maraquan player called us broke..."

"Did he?" Poke said.

"Ohh yeah!" Meelah chimed in. "And you said we could 'break the bank' with all we've saved! When we asked, you said you were preparing for a rainy day, just in case."

"This might be that day," Erli added.

Poke closed his eyes and breathed deeply. "Fine." He hovered over to the team closet, which had always been locked; he held the only key. The rest of the team gathered behind him as he turned the lock and opened the door...

Hundreds if items-Nerkmids, dubloons, Usuki dolls, amulets, maps, paint brushes, and even a number of highly prized weapons!-had been carefully sorted and filed away in a room so large it had no business being labeled a closet.

"Poke..." Erli's deeper voice carried a warning tone.

"Awesome," Holbie said; evidently the blue Kiko had finally started to pay attention.

Meelah sputtered in exasperation. "Is that how we were able to afford a flying glass bottom boat last year?!"

"In my defense! In my defense!!" Poke said, floating back and waving his arms wildly. "Only three of us here remember our first Altador Cup, how hard we worked to fund the team. Meelah, you woke up before morning practice to sell newspapers! Holbie missed workouts to work at an antique shop! And I spent months delivering groceries door-to-door."

Poke paused, shivering. Clearly, it wasn't a pleasant memory for him.

"It was hard, but we did whatever it took to make it to the big stage," he continued, "and it put us on the map. Kiko Lake, right up there beside the likes of Meridell! The Lost Desert! Altador itself! Entire kingdoms with the treasury to afford the Cup each year, without question. But in that first year, the team really had to hustle for our spot."

"And Lili and I have, too," Erli said, scowling. "We might've joined later, but we still picked up jobs at Pizzaroo two years ago, on your suggestion."

"Because our first year's experience was so valuable," Poke explained, "and I thought maybe the hard work would help us all bond. It makes playing at the Cup all the sweeter."

"So then why...?" Lili said softly, peering into the treasure hoard.

"I never wanted to feel that... panic again. Of possibly not getting there. I wanted to know that, no matter what, we could make it happen."

"You didn't steal all of this, did you?" Erli's patience was wearing thin.

"No!! Not... not exactly," Poke said.

"Not exactly?!"

"I can be persuasive! Give donors a little 'poke,' y'know?"

"And the glass bottom boat?" Meelah stressed.

"Okay, yeah, I commissioned that one. The only time I dipped into the team pot!"

"Worth it," said Holbie, who tried entering the room until Erli pulled him back.

"Speaking of-we could put the boat to good use this year," Lili said.

Meelah, rubbing his face and sighing, nodded. "We all know what it's like to work hard. If anyone can help the whole world with a benefit this year, we're the team for it."

"As for the rest of this stuff... it's way too much, Poke," Erli said. "It'll take a lot to make this right. But I think we start with donating it to our neighbours in Kiko Lake."

"...All of it?" Poke said, deflated.

Erli nodded. "All of it."

As the captain pouted, the team began hauling bundles of items out of the closet.

"Can't believe I have to start collecting donations from scratch," Poke muttered, arms folded.

Erli, carrying a basket of paint brushes, tilted his head. "What's that?"

"Nothing." The captain's mutters turned into incomprehensible grumbles as he watched his teammates deplete his hard-earned stash of goods. Or rather, "donations."

Precious Cargo

"We'll be taking your ship now. Unless you want to risk angering Bluebeard, our mighty captain!" A dishevelled pirate lifted his sword toward Captain Hale, who stood on the deck with his arms crossed-the epitome of an unbothered Bori-even as the assailing crew were preparing to board their team's ship.

A spotted Ogrin laughed nearby and returned to swabbing the deck. Coco knew the captain was more than qualified to dispose of the inconvenience. This was the umpteenth pirate crew who invoked the name of Bluebeard to sound tougher. Of course, if any of them had actually come across the real Bluebeard, they'd know their crew could never pass as her underlings. For one, they'd be at the bottom of the ocean the moment they bent the knee. But also, her crew was entirely made up of petpets.

The only reason Team Krawk lived to tell the tale of their encounter was... well, Coco wasn't really sure why. They'd lost to her, and yet Bluebeard had spared them; she'd even been friendly for a moment. The Ogrin supposed they were lucky to have survived such a stunning opponent; one unlike any Neopet she'd ever seen before, with her large ears, flowing ruff, and big ocean blue eyes.

Coco shook the thought from her mind as the last cry of the attacking pirate crew ended with a splash of seawater.

"Word must have gotten 'round about what we're hauling below deck," Captain Hale said, dusting off his hands. "That's the only reason I can fathom why they'd so brazenly attack us, especially with such a lousy lie about their captain."

"Bluebeard must really be making a name for herself, for so many to claim to know her," said Coco.

"If only all those scallywags were worth the fight."

"At least you got to hear her name again!" Nitri shouted from the kitchen porthole, her tusks scraping at the door. "Ain't that right, Coco?"

"Stick to cooking, chef, ain't no one asking ya!" Coco yelled in response. She slammed the mop in the bucket, splashing herself.

"Scupper that, Cap'n," Zayle said, climbing up from below deck. The Grundo was covered in gunpowder, like always. "Didn' get to try out me shiny new cannon! Couldn't ya have saved some fer the rest of us?"

"Aye, I wanted to crack a few skulls!" said Dinksy with her sing-song voice from the Crokabek's nest.

"You know we can't be thrown off schedule, just for you all to have some fun." Captain Hale chuckled and shook his head as he returned to the ship's wheel.

The team resumed their voyage, seamlessly manouevring around one another as they worked the sails. Coco shrunk back with her mop to stay out of the way. She was the outsider-the only one to have come from another team, another land. She loved being out on the open sea, but she often didn't feel like a true pirate. Not like the rest of them.

A loud crash rocked the ship and pulled Coco from her thoughts. Seawater and wood planks flew into the air. Cannon fire! But before the team could locate the aggressor out at sea, a Neopet that few had ever seen climbed on deck. She aimed her blunderbuss at their captain. Her blue eyes burned with anger, darker than night.

"Heard talk of pesky pirates in these waters, speakin' my name in vain."

"Aye," Captain Hale said calmly. "And we lovingly disposed of them for you. Now, why don't you lower that weapon of yours?"

"Nah, I don't think I'll be doin' anythin' of the like. Not with your lot lookin' like that."

Coco looked around; everyone else had pulled out a weapon to save their captain. Everyone but her.

"Besides, I can't be makin' the same mistake as before 'n lettin' you all go," Bluebeard spat. "Tis a shame, I really thought we had an understandin' before. But smugglin' innocent Yooyus-'tis a crimb not even a pirate of my infamy can overlook!"

"That's what all those pirates think?" Coco blurted out. "It's not even close to true!"

For a moment, Bluebeard turned her dark eyes to Coco. Instead of the clear ocean blue Coco remembered, they were as though a storm was rising over the sea... but there was still something familiar in them. When Bluebeard turned her attention away, Coco seized the opportunity-she flung the mop and bucket right at her.

The rest of the team sprang into action. The first to swing missed Bluebeard but knocked the blunderbuss out of her hand. Bluebeard pulled a cutlass, as Captain Hale did the same. But even with four crewmates fighting, Bluebeard held her own. No one had ever fought a beast like her; it was as though she could move between their shadows as she attacked.

In the cahos, Coco opened the hatchway to the cargo hold. Before Zayle could get a shot off with the blunderbuss, Coco used her full force to tackle Bluebeard below deck.

The Varwolf pirate cushioned Coco's landing. When she opened her eyes, she found Bluebeard holding her, as if protecting her from the fall. The captain's fluffy namesake tickled Coco's cheek, and she rolled away, blushing through her spots.

"What's all this?" Bluebeard said, taking in their haul; piles and piles of paintbrushes and potions. Sure, there were Yooyus hustling about keeping everything organised, but they were crew, not cargo.

"We've been gathering as many colours as we can for those affected by the grey," Coco explained. "We know it can't cure them right now, but maybe one day, ya know?"

"Well. Why didn't you just say so!" Bluebeard laughed, and her eyes sparkled.

Coco saw kindness in them-an ocean of blue once more-and let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

Been There, Done That, Got the T-shirt

This was Qlydae's best day ever.

Well. His second-best day ever. The first-best one was definitely the day he held the Cup high over his antennae. In that moment, he proved himself worth more than a single, deeply unfortunate own-goal from a bygone tournament. And yet... AND YET. Even in the midst of a month-long Kreludorian celebration-even in the blazing light of his victory-fans continued to remind the Grundo of his tournament-losing mistake.

No more!

His second-best day ever, hot on the heels of his first, was the day teammate Ealyn Hawkshanks finished building a t-shirt cannon powerful enough to reach Neopia.

It was Qlydae's idea, and he was making sure that no one would forget that. He'd been spontaneously giggling ever time he thought about it. It was genius! Before Ealyn had been traded to Kreludor, he'd played for Krawk Island. He must've fired cannons hundreds of times aboard their team ship. While Ealyn got started on the firing mechanism, Qlydae picked up a screen printer on discount from Grundo Warehouse.

His first design was obvious: "ALTADOR CUP XIX CHAMPIONS!!!" on a purple shirt with orange splatters. A masterpiece. But he couldn't stop there.

His next took inspiration from the local landscape: "KRELUDOR ROCKS!!!"

His third admittedly got a little out of hand: "Virtupets? More like VIRTU_PESTS!" But c'mon, who wouldn't give a little jab at their biggest rival when the opportunity arose?

And now, surrounded by stacks and stacks of homemade moon merch, they were taking aim at Neopia. Their intended t-shirt target: Brightvale.

"Why Brightvale?" Derlyn Fonnet, team captain, was chewing gum lounging on a nearby bench. The Gnorbu only half-watched Qlydae and Ealyn bicker about which way the atmosphere would be blowing; the rest of her attention was on the notepad in her lap.

"To send a MESSAGE that we BEAT THEM," Qlydae said, exasperated that this was not obvious. "Because they came in SECOND!"

"Aren't they down enough as it is? Y'know, being totally grey?"

Qlydae chewed on this. Ealyn lit a match. He raised it to the fuse...

"Upupup!" the Grundo said, waving his hands. "Cut that out! I'm thinking."

Ealyn dropped the match into the dust and squashed the flame with his boot.

"You'd get the most publicity by sending shirts to Altador," Derlyn continued, scribbling in her notebook. "Plus, added bonus, it might actually remind the Council that Kreludor exists."

"Ugh. What do you know? You're just writing to that weirdo Brains kid again."

Derlyn raised her eyebrows. "Oh? You got a problem with that?"

Qlydae crossed his arms. "He's just soooo weird. That's all the press ever talks about! Brains, Brains, Brains. Pen pal with Brains. Blegh!"

Ealyn lit another match just to watch the flame. "Don't worry, mate. Pretty sure the fans are still stuck on yer own-goal."

That was the moon rock to break the mining cart. Qlydae's shoulders rose, his fists bunched, and he stomped around, letting out frustrated growls. This was not how his second-best day ever was supposed to go!

"Okay, mini-Motor Dahy, calm down," Derlyn said.

"I'm not like Motor!" How dare she compare him to their hot-tempered teammate!

"No, you're not," she said. "You're right."

"It's just-it's just nobody believes I have good ideas!" Qlydae collapsed onto the ground by Derlyn's bench in dramatic fashion, when-FWOOOP!

Ealyn dove out of the way as the cannon fired, rocking several metres backwards. In the far distance, the first purple t-shirt sailed into Neopia's atmosphere.

The ex-pirate chuckled and got back to his feet. "Thar she goes!"

"Nooo, Ealyn!! What have you done!" The Grundo buried his head in his knees, giving in to feelings of failure, until he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder.

"Hey, bud. Mistakes happen," Derlyn said. "Nothing we can do about the past... that shirt is long-gone. Sometimes it's easiest to forget when we learn to embrace it."

Qlydae sniffed and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, right."

"Now, maybe we sling t-shirts to all of the lands-at least so it feels less targeted," she continued. "Personally, I think Tyrannia would get a kick out of the 'Kreludor Rocks' shirt. And what do you think... maybe Maraqua for this one?"

When Qlydae looked up, Derlyn was showing him what she'd been drawing in her notepad. It was a t-shirt sketch of him holding the cup with a big, blocky head: "MVP."

He chuckled, and she smiled.

"Ealyn," he said, standing and dusting his knees. "Prepare for t-shirt number two!"

Shifty Dealings

It was as hot as ever in the Lost Desert that day. The sun was high in the cloudless blue sky, bright and beating its rays down on the sands and the mud bricks making up the walls of Sakhmet - but despite the heat, the sun was not the reason that Luvea Trivon was sweating.

The Draik's team made their way to the Yooyuball pitch on the edge of Sakhmet City, while he sloly beat his wings to trail along behind them. Today wasn't their usual practice day, but Leera Heggle, the team's captain, had decided to call a sudden training session just an hour ago since Derbi, their right forward, had told them that she had a dental appointment set for their usual time.

"I still can't believe you scheduled your appointment for our training time," Rhee muttered to Luvea's teammates up ahead.

"I can't expect you to," Derbi replied, sighing exaggeratedly. "You don't have a winning smile to take care of. Do Kikos even have teeth?"

"Derbi..." Leera frowned. He had been growing more and more exasperated with Derbi's antics lately due to the rest of the team's complaints, but seemed reluctant to punish the Scorchio. She was a superstar on the pitch, after all.

"Whatever." Derbi came to a stop before the equipment shed. "You'll all be tahnking me when the photo-ops come-EEK!"

Luvea shrank back, letting his teammates crowd in to see what had startled the Scorchio - and then tried to make himself even smaller when they realised what he already knew.

"Where's all our stuff?! The game-day gear, the practice equipment, the extra scrimmage Yooyuballs - everything's gone!" Vonde exclaimed. The Wocky quickly began to examine the shed door, looking for any signs of breaking and entering. Unfortunately for him, though, he woudln't find any - the Desert Scarabs were expert thieves, and if they didn't want to leave a trace of themselves behind, they wouldn't.

"All right, which one of you did it?" Derby asked, glaring at her teammates. The moment her eyes fell on Vonde, though, her infamous accusatory finger came out, and she pointed it right at him. "I bet it was Vonde. He must've hawked all our stuff, trying to impress the Gourmet Club with all his expensive foods!"

"What?!" Vonde stomped over to her. "It wasn't me! If anything, it had to have been you, paying for all your fancy clothes and dental treatments!"

Derbi opened her mouth to protest, but Leera got in between them and pushed his sturdy Kau hooves into their chests to separate them. "That's enough, you two. Nobody here sold our equipment."

"What makes you so sure?" Rhee asked.

The captain calmly turned his attention to Luvea, and Luvea gulped.

"Luvea," he began, "you've been rather quiet."

Luvea hung his head. That was it-his Geb was cooked. Last year, he had shown up with brand-new Yooyuball equipment to replace what they'd lost in a sandstorm; despite his optimism, the team had been suspicious, and Luvea couldn't blame them-especially since Leera knew about his past connections with the Desert Scarabs. He had asked Luvea some questions about it, but ultimately continued to trust him. And now...

Now he had betrayed that trust.

The knot in Luvea's chest tightened, and he wrung his claws together. "Sorry, guys, I..."

Just then, he heard a shuffle of movement and a chorus of familiar laughter. From behind his team, a small crowd of Neopets emerged, all of them with the same tattoo emblazoned on their arms.

Luvea's heart sank like it was trapped in quicksand. The moment his team turned to look at the intruders, their laughter was silenced. The Desert Scarabs - led by Tomos, the Lupe -fell still, looking at the team with wide, startled eyes.

They were wearing the missing Yooyuball gear.

"Thieves!" Derbi cried, launching into the air and pointing a finger at them now.

"H-hang on a second!" Luvea cried rushing to stand between his old friends and his team. "They didn't steal anything!"

"Then how do you explain them having our equipment?" Rhee asked.

"I..." Luvea looked from one party to the other and sighed, shoulders and wings deflating. "I let them take it."

Derbi took a deep breath. Luvea knew what was coming next - scolding, accusation, anger. And that was if he was lucky - her fire breath, while she never used it on her friends, was nothing to sneeze at. But before she really got going, Leera raised a hoof to quiet the coming tirade.

"Why?" he asked calmly, and that was almost worse.

"Because we wanted to play," Tomos said. He stepped forward next to Luvea, and laid a kind paw on his shoulder. "We're pretty infamous around here-just walking around the market gets us a bunch of dirty looks. We wanted to do something that wouldn't make others look at us like Apis dung, and we saw how playing Yooyuball helped Luvea, so..."

"Since they helped me raise money to replace the gear we lost, I promised them they could borrow it whenever they liked. That way they wouldn't have to steal any more to get their own." Luvea closed his eyes. "I wanted to give them a chance like you did for me, but I didn't think you'd agree to let a bunch of thieves play with our Yooyuball gear, so I gave them my storage key and told them when we wouldn't be practicing."

"I see." Leera moved forward. He eyed Tomos, then cast his serious stare into Luvea...

...And held out his hoof in offering.

Both Tomos and Luvea looked up at him in surprise, but Tomos quickly accepted the handshake. A breath of relief passed throughout both groups - until Leera turned back to Luvea.

"Next time, Luvea," he said, a small grin pulling at his lips, "tell us when you make such promises. We trust you, so you need to trust us, too. Now..." He turned to the group at large - thieves and teammates, all together. "Who wants to play some Yooyuball?"

Clearing the Water..

Just outside of Old Maraqua, strong, steady current ran the perimeter of the full Maraquan circle. Underwater denizens had long used it to safely travel great distances, from Mystery Island to Krawk Island and back. When schools were out, the Maraqua Current could get quite busy-which was why Oten and his teammates had answered the call to help with today's cleanup.

The grey hadn't affected Maraqua directly-the Skeith wondered if the ocean was simply too large and barren to bother trying-but they had been dealing with the ramifications nonetheless. At first, coastal cities had tried dumping excess paint into the sea, hoping it would recede... only to clutter Neopia's ocean currents with blobs of grey. Then, as boat travel increased, so did their, uh, "waste." And now...

"T-shirts?" Tonie said, stretching his large Koi fin out to catch one. "MVP, with a picture of that Grundo from Team Kreludor. Ahh, to be the victor."

"Maybe it's a good thing Elon didn't come with," Lamelle said, and Oten had to agree.

When he had pitched the service idea, their captain had insisted on keeping to their regular practice time, claiming they "had to win the Cup at some point." Elon's absence for this activity was for the best. And, to be frank, solo practice closely resembled his usual gameplay style, anyway.

Lamelle swam through the current to catch another shirt, this time with the reigning team plastered fully scross the front. The Kiko presented the "CHAMPIONS!!!" print to his team, and Tonie laughed.

Barit's fins twitched; the Maraquan Techo watched another bundle of purple and orange shirts sweep by in the current.

"There's gotta be hundreds," Oten said. "Surely they weren't all meant for Maraqua."

"We are the biggest target," Tonie said. "If 'we' could be considered 'the ocean.'"

"Catching shirts as they speed by? This could be our defender practice!" Lamelle said, excitedly bobbing up and down.

It didn't take long for them to develop a strategy: Lamelle and Barit would catch and pass shirts to Tonie and Oten, who swam outside the current. Soon the team found a flow, laughing and singing sea shanties to their rhythm. It felt like a game.

Then Elon showed up, and the fun subsided.

"Thought you weren't interested," Oten said.

"Got bored." Elon casually rolled a Maraquan Yooyu from one Acara tentacle arm to the other.

An awkward pause. Then Oten had an idea. Might be bright. Might be stupid.

"Bet you can't get as many shirts as Lamelle," he said.

"Pssh," Elon said. "Easy." The Acara swam closer, eying the speed of the current.

"Let's time it, then," Barit said. "Oten catches for Lamelle, and Tonie for Elon.

"Think of me like a goal," Tonie said, holding his Koi fins wide, and Oten snorted.

Right. Because he's never had to pass a day in his life.

Barit started the timer, and the two players caught and tossed shirt after shirt. Though Lamelle was the smallest on the team, the Kiko had quick hands and a tenacity that put his captain to the test. He and Oten worked seamlessly; the two defenders had passed countless Yooyus to one another over the years, and the Skeith could easily read his teammate's movement.

Elon clearly had the upper hand in the number of t-shirts thrown, but his erratic tosses had their goalkeeper swimming every which way to keep up. To his credit, Tonie had only dropped one or two across the dozen flung in his general direction.

By the end, the two throwers were neck-and-neck, with Elon just barely in the lead-until his last two throws flew wide of Tonie, dropping behind him at the last second.

"Tonie!" Elon whined. "What the flipper, dude? You can't catch anything!"

"Woah, hey now. Tonie's got the best reflexes on the team," Barit said. "He's the reason why we place so hy all the time in the Cup. Nothing gets past our goalkeeper."

"What do you call those drops!" Elon gestured to the shirts that floated down below.

Oten sighed. "maybe it's because you've never practiced passing to a target, and Lamelle has. How do you think you get the ball as often as you do?"

"Don't bother. He just wants to hog the spotlight," Barit said, folding his arms.

"Uh, no," Elon said. "I'm just being strategic. If I know I can score better than any of you, why would I bother passing?"

That's when it dawned on Oten. "Holy kelp... You don't trust us."

It wasn't that Elon craved attention, or even that he wanted an all-guy team, as the rumours had long stated. No, the ego went deeper than the Maraqua trench: if their captin could wave Fyora's staff, he would create an all-Elon team.

"What? I trust you fine, when you go to practice."

"If you actually trusted Lamelle with the ball," Barit added, "or trusted Tonie to have your back, we'd be a much better team."

"All the players we've lost, because you didn't believe in them..."

Elon backed away from his teammates. "They were holding us back anyway."

"Buddy," Oten said, "you're the common denominator in all these Cups. You've been our only forward this whole time."

That did it. Elon sputtered, red at the gills, then swam off in a burst of bubbles. Tonie, ever the sweetheart, made a move to follow, but Oten pulled him back.

"Let him go," he said, thinking. "Now we know trust is at the heart of it. I think we can all put our heads together on things we can do to build that up... preferably off the pitch."

The Quest for Team Colours

It takes a lot of yarn to adorn a town, especially a grey one, and a lot of dye, too. Ethel's usual dyes relied heavily on Meri Acres berries, but with the state of Neopia, Pick Your Own fruits had been restricted for culinary use only. Understandable. And with Ethel's endless drive to replenish her own yarn, a minor hurdle.

But it was nearly Illusen Day, she had banners and gifts to knit, and she was all out of colours.

"Red on top, blue in the middle," the old Ixi repeated for the two teammates that had tagged along for her latest adventure.

She'd received a tip from one of Illusen's couriers: a patch of elusive Meriberries had been spotted on the edge of Shadowglen Woods. Despite the inherent danger of the earea, foraging on the fringes was the best she could do under the circumstances. Venturing as far from the grey as possible, searching for oft-forgotten fruits that no one would find appetizing... (A pity, really, because Ethelfirmly believed that with enough sugar, anything was palatable!)

"This is really far from town," Ilsa said. Her fellow Ixi, a gorgeous shade of red, ducked beneath a branch that Ethel had easily walked under.

Ethel had noticed that this was the first time in a long while that her teammate had opted to wear a long, maidenly dress, with the skirt hitched up for travel. She'd felt it accentuated Ilsa's tall frame quite well; and she'd taken note on how she might adjust her current knitting project.

"the harder the find, the sweeter the reward!" Ethel himmed, peering through a thorny bush to get a better look at the plants behind.

"And why are we looking for a red and blue berry? Isn't Illusen Day... earthy?"

"I've got my reasons." Ethel smiled; a bit of mystery never hurt anyone.

"You've already done so much for Meridell Town," Ilsa continued. "I think everyone would understand if you needed to slow down, take a month off."

"Trust me, dearie, I'll slow down when I need to. Though if you two need to rest, please do! I brought invigorating tea just for the occasion."

"I've still got energy!!" Yoris bounced out of the treeline and nearly tripped over his own Jubjub feet.

Ilsa sighed. "Just make sure you've got enough to make it back without a cart ride. We might not be as lucky on our return trip as we were getting out here."

"An astute observation, my dear," Ethel said. "And duly noted."

Ethel understood Ilsa's concern; she'd been in a knitting frenzy since the last tourney. The old Ixi taught the team her craft so they could all produce plenty of warm jumpers, caps, and scarves for all of the grey lands by winter. She'd additionally made plushies for the little ones and knitted plants to brighten Illusen's Glade. And now, while their captain was busy planning Illusen Day festivities, Ethel had promised knitted garlands for every building-and perhaps a green blanket for Turmaculus-to help revive the Meridell spirit.

She was very keen on the idea; her neighbors could use a festival to boost their morale. At least tensions were low eough for it-thanks, in large part, to the continued aid from Darigan Citadel. Fiorina had even volunteered to fly goods back and forth. It was a curious time; Ethel wondered if there'd be increased trade between the lands, if all this grey ever subsided. Imagine the deep purple hues you'd get from Spiked Dariberries...

"Aha!" Yoris explaimed, jumping this way and that. "Red on top, blue in the middle."

"Wonderful!" Ethel hurried over to him.

But before she could confirm the berry, twisting vines curled around the Jubjub's foot and yanked him into the Shadowglen Woods.

"Yoris!" Ethel and Ilsa shouted in unison, leaping into the treeline after their teammate. In the shadowy brush, a half-dozen monstrous flowers and pet-eating plants had him surrounded.

"Stay back, Ethel!" Ilsa called. She tackled the nearest flower, flattening it to the ground.

But the old Ixi sprung into action: she popped open a flask of Kayla's sleeping draught-she'd never go foraging without it-and flung the substance across the roots of the living vines. They drooped and loosened their grip, plopping Yoris into a bush.

"Get out of here!" As Ilsa rammed a second plant into a tree an enourmous, stinky flower loomed over her, oozing a dark and mysterious nectar. Ethel pulled out her foraging knife.

"Sorry, flower," she said to the creature. "I'm more knightly than I look."

While the flower bore down on Ilsa, Ethel swiped at the stem. It twisted, whirling its jagged leaves, but Ethel was too low to the ground for it to reach. With a few more cuts, she sliced the stem in two. The monster withered and collapsed. Its stench turned abhorrent.

Chartreuse nectar pooled on the ground, and Ethel wondered if it might make for a unique dye colour of its own. Oh yes, she thought. A perfect green for the big blanket!

With the flowers defeated, the three Meridellian players crawled out from the treeline, back into clear, odourless air and the warm protection of daylight.

"How did you-?" Ilsa started, holding a cut on her arm.

"Oh, they are fearsome creatures, to be sure," Ethel said, uncorking a salve for her, "but nothing I haven't seen before. It's just been a decade or two since my last encounter!"

Once everyone had been patched up, the old Ixi gleefully examined the bush that was indeed packed with Meriberries. She picked as many as could fit in her baskets.

"I... feel like I owe you an apology," Ilsa said as they walked back to the road to Meridell. "You clearly had a handle on things back there."

"Oh nonsense," Ethel said, watching Yoris bounce ahead. "You couldn't have known. It was very brave of you, to jump into unknown danger for Yoris-and little old me."

Ilsa laughed, shaking her head. "I should've known, tough as you are on the pitch."

"Just think if we played with balls of yarn, rather than Yooyu!"

"That would definitely be unfair. You'd be unstoppable."

~~~

The night before Illusen Day with colourful knitted garlands lending warmth to the grey old town, Ethel gifted all of her teammates new jumpers: bright red and blue for Team Meridell.

She sat by Isla and watched her unfold two different sweaters, both perfectly sized to her tall stature. One flowed like her skirt, while the other resmebled the boxier garments that Isla had worn before.

"I wanted to make sure you were comfortable no matter which felt... right for you, the day of the festival. Though either would go fine iwth skirts or trousers!"

A smile spread across the red Ixi's face. You are not to be underestimated," she said, and wrapper her arms around Ethel in a big hug.

"Thank you, Ethel."

Ethel gave her an extra-tight squeeze, a familiar warmth spreading from her chest. This right here was what drove her to work as hard as she had: this special moment of seeing to someone's need, without them ever having asked.

"It was my pleasure, dear Ilsa," she said. "And it always will be."

Burning Passion

Harlis Benne-Neyhbol may have been one of the buffest Grarrls in Yooyuball, but the moment someone got him talking about his wife, the lightest breeze could knock over the lovestruck fool. The Moltara team had always known this about him, of course. He'd been talking about his partner, Wila, nonstop since the moment he joined the team, but as he chatted about their honeymoon and shared dozens of almost identical photos of Wila in different places around Terror Mountain, Tulah's patience grew thinner and thinner.

The molten Acara loved her teammates, but between this, whatever was going on between their two defenders, Zax and Vere, and Captain Aldric's affectionate stories about his husband Neeraj, Tulah couldn't take much more. She was incredibly happy for them all-heck, she was practically the one who introduced Aldric and Neeraj-but the lovey-dovey mush was getting to be too much.

She knew a lot of it probably stemmed from jealousy. Not of the romance stuff-that sort of thing had never interested her-but more of the old team dynamic. And it wasn't like she'd ever tell the team that; they were allowed to find joy however they'd like. But perhaps she could at least politely excuse herself from this onslaught of Puppyblew love.

As Harlis presented yet another photo of Wila in the Ice Caves, Tulah slammed her hands on the stone table.

"For lava's sake, is this ever going to end?"

The photo slipped from Harlis's hand, and Aldric shot his signature worried glare at her. She scoffed and stood up so fast her chair toppled over, then stormed out of the building.

That went well.

Thankfully, Team Moltara's training centre was near a small exit to Neopia's surface, so that they could train on different terrains. Tulah climbed out and sat on the ground, letting the cool night air clear her mind. Just her and the constellations, shining from above.

She recalled the first time she'd ever seen the night sky. She'd been in awe of the sheer number of stars. Though they burned so beautifully, they'd also made Tulah feel small. Insignificant. She always hated feeling small.

Surprisingly, Aldric had been the one to convince her to sneak out for their molten home that night, and not the other way around. In those early days, life had felt so big, and her tight friendship with Aldric had been at the very core. The two of them, discovering Yooyuball. Forming the team. Forging friendships. It was all so... perfectly normal.

Her mind wandered back to that fateful first night outside. Aldric, ever the Kougra, was laughing and jumping all over the nearby boulders. But the longer Tulah stayed out in the open, the heavier she felt. Her head swirled and her heart beat faster.

She remembered wanting to return home, but Aldric had looked so happy, she didn't want to be the one that made them leave. So she fell deep into her own thoughts, until Aldric bounded over, asking something. At first, she didn't register any of his words... and then she realised how brightly she was burning, unknowingly competing with the stars. Her flames had caught onto the surrounding fauna, and the world around them quickly began to burn. Their attempts to put it out only worsened the fire. In her panic, she instinctively bolted-and ran headfirst into a Water Zafara. Neeraj.

Everything was bound to change after that. Even though Aldric and Neeraj had barely spoken a word to wone another that night as they quelled the flames-too young and shy to realise how perfect a pair they made-some years later, they would meet up again, fall in love, get married. Tulah usually enjoyed taking credit for their meetcute, but tonight...

"You okay?" It was Aldric's voice, snapping her out of darker thoughts once again.

Tulah looked up, worried her flames might've leapt into a nearby bush, and relaxed when instead she saw Aldric's outstretched hand. She batted it away as he sat beside her.

"Is Harlis still gushing over his beloved?"

"When is he not?"

This made her chuckle, just slightly.

"I'm sorry I snapped back there," she said, not taking her eyes off the stars.

"Still as fiery as ever. Even with no tournament to train for. It's admirable, in a way."

It had been the first time in a long time she wasn't fully honed in on practicing, trying to be the best she could be. She'd always been hot-tempered, but she'd never taken it out on the team. It felt like she was burning again, unsure where to put all of her energy.

"I-I miss us. I miss playing together," she said softly.

"I know," said Aldric, matching her tone. "But there's more to live than Yooyuball."

"Like honeymoons to Terror Mountain or gardening with your husband?" she said with more bite to her voice than intended.

"Haha, no. I know that's not something you want." He put an arm around her shoulder. "But there's all sorts of things in this world to be passionate about."

"I'm happy for you, really. I just feel like I used to be your best friend. And now..."

"Hey-you're still my best friend!" Aldric leaned back to better face her. "Things may be different now, but you're a core part of my life-we'll always have each other."

He paused, then: "It sounds like I could do a better job showing that, though."

"Maybe." Tulah elbowed him, a smile creeping across her face. "You do owe me big time, Aldy. Don't ever forget."

Island Hopping

Waves rolled over the shore to announce the arrival of Mystery Island's Yooyuball team. The sand was warm and soft beneath the team's feet and flippers, different from the slightly grittier quality of their home's sand, and yet familiar all the same. It felt good to touch down on a proper beach, almost as if they were coming home, even though Dacardia was a destination none of them had ever been to before.

"Whoo! Feels good to be off that boat," Vela Binal said, beak opening wide nd long Lenny legs stretching out far.

"I'll say," Tulay agreed. She hopped from foot to foot, as was her habit, and looked around the beach. "Not all of us are as lucky as Lor and can just swim our way across the sea."

"Have you tried investing in a pair of flippers?" Lor-a Flotsam-joked. His teammates laughed, all except Volgoth, their captain - he was already scanning the beach, looking for the reason they had made their way to Dacardia.

"Whoa!" Vela exclaimed, scrambling a few feet ahead and shading his eyes with his wing. "What in Mumbo Pango's endless appetite is THAT?!"

The rest of the team followed behind him. There, right at the point where the beach met grass, was...

"A giant Yooyu?!"

Wordlessly, they all agreed to investigage. As the ygot closer to the great, towering... thing, they realised that it was not, in fact, a Yooyu, but a bunch of beams bolted together in the shape of a Yooyu. And what was more, it was surrounded by dozens and dozens of tiny red robot Crabbies!

"Get back here!" came a familiar voice, just as one of said little robots scuttled by faster than one of Tulay's trick shots. A moment later, it was followed by none other than the captain of the Dacardian Yooyuball team, Tyrra Tamina, scrambling on all fours. "I need those nails, you silly-Ah! Volgoth!"

She came to a clumsy halt just before knocking into the towering Mynci - aided by his strong hand on her shoulder - but there was a big, wide, Kougra fanged smile on her face that suggested she would have been just as happy to crash into him after all.

Hearing the commotion, Tyrra's teammates began to make their was to the beach. "TULAY!" Camila cheered, speedily taking wing and tackling her Cybunny friend to the ground, while Rowdy Roo the Gelert grinned, jogged up to Vela, and said, "Vela, my guy, what's a handsome Lenny like you doing in a place like this?"

Soon enough they were all gathered around each other, hugging and laughing and catching up. Volgoth still hadn't properly greeted his fellow team captain, though, so he did just that a moment later - and silenced the whole crowd in doing so.

"Tamina," he said, and the Kougra csaptain scoffed playfully.

"Psh! I told you you could call me by my first name, remember-wait a second. Not that we're not happy to see you, but, um... why are we seeing you right now?"

"Nevermind that," Lor said, gesturing toward the giant Yooyu-shaped frame. "Why are we seeing a giant Yooyu right now?"

"That's a Yooyu?" Selmon Woulf asked. Everyone on the beach turned their heads toward the Xweetok, but nobody said anything.

"It will be," Tyrra began after a moment. "And it's going to be able to travel all across Neopia. We wanted to show everyone that even if things look grey right now and the Altador Cup has been cancelled, the sporting spirit is still alive."

"I see. Only you guys could come up with something like that," Volgoth said, rubbing his chin. "Hmm... You know, we were worried about you all, placing so low on your debut Cup. We thought you'd be upset, so we came to show our support and solidarity, but I guess we were wrong."

"You do have a habit of taking your shots before checking the other team's plays," Tyrra said, nudging Volgoth affectionately. "But that's something I like about you guys. And... not gonna lie, you were right. We were pretty disappointed to come in 17th. We know we're new and all, but... I dunno, I guess we just thought we were better than that."

"We felt the same way about our first low placement, too. And every low placement after that," Lor said.

Tyrra's smile faded, and she looked down at the sand, dragging her foot through it. "How did you deal with that?" she asked. "You guys seem so put-together and strong as a team, I just figured you were always good sports about everything."

"This guy? Good sport?" Selmon elbowed Volgoth. "You should have seen him after AC V. Nearly toppled Techo Mountain."

Tyrra gasped, but Volgoth only laughed good-naturedly. That had taken some explaining, and only after the Training School guardians and the Techo Master himself had fought him to the point of collapsing. He had been a lot quicker to anger back in those days. "It's true," he said. "And it nearly happened again the next year. And the year after that. Then we placed second... But it didn't feel much like victory."

"Don't get us wrong, placing that high felt good," Lor said, "but we'd trained so hard just to win that by the time we did, we realised we hadn't actually had fun playing in years."

"It wasn't until we got back home and the whole island was celebrating our second place standing that we figured out why were were really playing," Vela said.

Volgoth eyed each of his teammates, and they grinned back at him in turn. "You know," he began, "A giant mechanical travelling Yooyu's not a bad idea. It looks big enough to house a whole Yooyuball field on it, too."

Tyrra blinked. "What do you mean?"

"Last year, Darigan Citadel came to Mystery Island on vacation," Volgoth said. "While they were there, we practised together."

"Wait," said Rowdy, lurching foward in shock. "You're all buddy-buddy with Darigan Citadel? That means you know some of Tandrak Shaye's tricks, right? Then could you help a Gelert out and-"

"Not this again," Vela groaned, grabbing Rowdy around the snout and forcing it closed, in the same instant that Camila swatted her teammate's ears.

Volgoth grunted. "I don't know about tricks - they're honourable players. But that's not the point. The point is taht just because there's no Cup doesn't mean we can't play. And if you put a playing field on your giant travelling Yooyu..."

"Everyone can play!" Tulay finished, bouncing up and down and tugging on Tyrra's braid. "Just for fun!"

"There's more to Yooyuball than winning," Volgoth concurred. "And it's about time we all reminded ourselves of that."

Juggling Act

With a spectacular triple-twist fall, Jair struck her final pose on the areial ropes. The orchestra played its culmination, and her chest rose and fell from the effort of her act. The crowd roared in a standing ovation-then the lights dimmed, the curtain fell, and the Maraquan Eyrie slid down to the stage and flew off into the wings.

She had twenty-three minutes for lunch before she needed to be at the pitch.

A kind crewmember handed her a glass of water, and she downed it as she shanged out of her glittering costume and into the jingling Roo Island uniform. The heat of the spotlight always made her feel so parched, so she was thankful for the cool hydration.

Another sold-out theatre-and for a matinee, no less. Circus Rooleil had been doubling their performances to keep up with the ticket demand, which was putting a strain on Jair's own schedule. For many places struck by the grey, Roo Island was a convenient, still-colourful escape, so tourism had been booming. She kept reminding herself, even as she sped out of the back door, that she was more than happy to help, especially seeing so many grey Neopians in the audience.

Fourteen minutes to the first Yooyu.

Her heart was still pounding, which was concerning; usually she'd have recovered by now. Jair took slow breaths between bites of cold potato wedges... and yet a small, sharp pain pricked in her chest. Lilo, her team captain, would understand if she were late-he knew how ppacked her days had become. But Jair wasn't one to let people down. So on she flew, dodging clumps of tourists lining up outside of the popular Coffee Cave.

After a few years with the circus, Jair was accustomed to quick changes. She knew the schedule was logically possible, but she lived in constant fear of forgetting a game, an act-a play!-just trying to keep track of it all. It was hard, but even without the crowds, it was also deeply rewarding. Flying the ropes took a great level of control that helped her feel strong. And everyone could see how her work on the stage flowed into her movement on the pitch; they both served as expressions of herself. She felt like the luckiest Eyrie alive.

So why was her chest so tight?

Eight minutes to gametime.

Her mind whirred with to-do lists. The simplicity of morning Yooyuball and evening rehearsal had turned into morning practice, matinee, afternoon match, and evening performance. And somehow, she'd been making it work. Standing ovations, glowing reviews in the paper, and at-least-average showings on the Yooyuball pitch had granted her the constant fuel of positive reinforement. It was nice to receive her flowers, but she was starting to suspect that that was just the problem...

How do you stop a Merry Go Round, before it spins totally out of control?

Four minutes.

She flew through the team entrance, quickly tossed her bag in the locker room, and collapsed on the team bench by the sidelines. Deep breath in. Hold. Deep breath out. She held her hand to her heart to help centre herself. She'd made it.

Team Roo Island and Team Brightvale were just finishing their warm-ups. The bleachers had already filled to capacity, even for a recurring friendly match. This was good; their ongoing efforts this off-season doubled as a fundraiser, which ticket proceeds going to Brightvale relief funds. Lilo, Jair's captain, gave her a wave, then a concerned look.

Oh no, she thought. Dread coiled in her stomach like a dropped circus rope.

The Blumaroo bounced over. "Jair... are you alright?"

Emotions rose in her throat, and Jair closed her eyes. "I'm fine."

Wait. A thought flashed in her head. Did I leave my Yooyu sling backstage-?

Her eyes flew open in a panic until she remembered she'd thrown her bag in the locker room. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief as Lilo took a seat next to her.

"I've been thinking," he began, using a more serious voice than usual. "I'm sure you know this better than anyone, but... it seems like you're taking on way too-"

"I know." She looked at him, keeping her emotions in check. "I know. But this is important. It was a lot of work to put these matches together-I'm not letting them down."

She gestured towards the crowd, who were getting louder; the announcer was working them into a frenzy. The show must go on.

"I'm more concerned about letting you down," her captain said. "Maybe... maybe you should sit out the next few matches, until things cool off a bit."

"And let you be a player short? No way. I still really want to play... I just gotta make it to the Cup."

Her mantra of the year: make it to the Cup. Having a target end date helped it all feel possible. Once the tournament was said and done, then she could re-evaulate, maybe even cut back on half of her performances-reguardless of the additional shows selling out. Then, in that perfect future, she could stop burning the candle at both ends.

"Well, I was going to wait until after the match to share the news," Lilo said, "but it sounds like there is no Cup this year."

Oh. It felt like a heavy tent had collapsed all around her. Breathing became difficult. The next few days, weeks, and months cycled in her mind, over and over and over...

Not now, she thought, reprimanding herself. Focus on the present.

The pitch. The sun. The cheers and chants. The itch of her collar. The teams, shaking hands. Players... laughing, on both sides.

Huh.

It looked like Roo Island and Brightvale had grown to be quite close, which came as a surprise to Jair. She'd missed out most of the early team dynamics, but knew Tressif had been worried about... pranks, or something? Clearly, Brightvale had relaxed into a more easy-going team-or Roo Island had found a groove that kept their scrimmages fun, friendly, and casual. Whatever had happened, they made it through the rough patch. It had all worked out.

Jair took a deep breath, shaky breath. She didn't know if she could do the same.

"I've got it!" Lilo snapped and bounced off of the bench like he did whenever he thought of a brilliant new play. "An idea where both teams bench a player, so you can rest."

Jair eyed him doubtfully. Her teammates were gathering into a pre-match huddle. Surely it was too late!

"These were always meant to be casual games, more theatrics than anything," her captain continued, unperturbed. "What if-ooh, this is a good one. What if we made it more... interactive? Invite Neopians from the crowd to fill a spot on each team??"

"You think... that'd be safe?" Jair asked, thinking of the Brightvale player known for elbowing his opponents in the stomach.

The Blumaroo giggled. "Yes! This is exactly what we've been practicing for, really." He paused, seeing her slide down the bench a bit. "Does that... sound okay to you? And when you're ready-and by that, I mean your schedule has returned to normal-we can rotate you back in, and give others a rest. Because yes, this work is important, but, Jair-so are you."

The weight... instantly lifted. This was it: her ticket off of the never-ending ride, at least for a season. She might not have had the brainspace to figure out what she needed this soon, but thankfully, Lilo did. She could finally breathe. She could finally think.

Jair nodded, then blinked a tear free.

A Prodigy's Decision

Bright purple and orange t-shirts fluttered down to the Lunar Temple, and Timu watched them fall from her regular spot at the top of the roof. Ever since her transfer to Team Shenkuu many years back, the pink Lupe often came here to stargaze or chat with Yueling, the wise Gnorbu who maintained the temple. He'd probably call these shirts "gifts from the moon itself." Considering the colours, he likely wouldn't be wrong.

"You shine so brightly," he'd told Timu upon meeting her. It felt wonderful, once.

Back then, she was considered a prodigy, a star of a player. She was traded from Team Altador the moment Shenkuu had seen her potential. A few years went by, then the player she'd replaced, Foltaggio, went on to earn the captain's role for her old team in Altador.

And where did she end up, a decade later? The same place she started.

A t-shirt landed on the roof, close enough for her to grab. ALTADOR CUP XIX CHAMPIONS!!!, it read, alongside a picture of Team Kreludor. Another reminder of how little she had accomplished lately...

When she started playing professionally, she was one of teh youngest players around. They'd even called her 'The Paint Brush' on the pitch, due to her quick ability to adapt her playstyle to any opponent. But now... as her body ached from climbing up and down the tall temple, she felt like perhaps she had let everyone down.

"Hey Timu, could you give me a hand over here with these boxes?" Mirsha Grelinek, Team Shenkuu's captain, called out. The Gnorbu picked up a fallen shirt that said KRELUDOR ROCKS!!! off of a big pile of boxes and rolled her eyes.

"Sure, thing. What's in the boxes?" Timu asked as she jogged over.

"Supplies for Xana's Yooyuball camp. We were allowed to store them here until we started it back up."

Xana DiLanche, the team's goalkeeper. Despite how she'd sometimes tremble before their matches, she had opened up an all-ages Yooyuball training camp last year. Her voice had shaken during its inaugural welcom speech, but as the weeks went on, her movements became surer, her words more steady, and her students had excelled under her guidance. By the time the first camp had finished, she was like a whole new Lutari.

"You've come a long way," Mirsha had said while toasting Xana over their celebratory dinner, "both on and off the field-and I'm seeing you grow more and more every day. Here's to that ever-rising potential!"

Along with her teammates, Timu had lifted her glass into the air and cheered. Now, though, when she thought about how far Xana had come...

To keep Mirsha from noticing her demeanor change, Timu grabbed most of the boxes and hefted them up on either shoulder.

"Woah, I can help, girl. No need to get them all yourself!" Mirsha said, hovering her hands around the teetering boxes.

"I've got it. No worries!" Timu said, dodging her attempts to grab a box. "You can grab the last two, though, if you want."

As they walked the boxes down the long mountainside, Timu's mind wandered to Foltaggio again-the player shenkuu had traded for her. A captain! She'd been at such an impass lately... she just needed to get over herself and push harder! Be better for the team, like they had expected of her.

"You know," Mirsha said, looking between Timu and the morning horizon. "I heard Foltaggio is taking a break on the Isle of Yooyu, since the Cup was cancelled."

"Wait, what?" Timu said, a little too loudly. Had Mirsha known her thoughts? In her shock, the boxes leaned forward, and everything crashed to the ground around them.

Timu felt a jolt of panic, and she and Mirsha scrambled to recover items before they slid off the steep cliff. Once everything was gathered and stacked back up to the side of the path, Mirsha calmly wandered over to the cliffside. Her hair flowed with the wild winds of the mountain breeze as she took slow, deep breaths.

"I-I'm so sorry. I had it-it just slipped. It wasn't too much, I swear!" Timu fought back the obvious tremor in her voice. She wasn't going to cry in front of her captain!

But Mirsha's eyes were light as she breathed. She nodded for Timu to stand by her.

They were high enough in the mountains to be above the clouds, and in the early morning hours like this, one could see for miles. The sun, barely rising, stretched its rays across the mountain peaks, looking for handholds to help lift itself higher into the sky.

Timu matched Mirsha's slow breathing as they watched the sun try to find its place.

"I'm glad Foltaggio took a break," Mirsha eventually said. "He's always been a hard worker, but it can be stressful when one puts so much pressure on their shoulders."

Timu glanced back at the boxes.

"But-what if... What if this break changes something?" Timu said, hiding a sniffle.

"What do you mean?"

"Like... What if he nev-never comes back?" A single tear rolled down her cheek.

"If that's what he wants, what would be so bad about that?"

"He's a-a prodigy. He'd be wasting his potential." More tears welled, clouding her vision.

"Hmm," Mirsha hummed as she breathed out. "I would say there's no such thing as wasted potential. It's more important that someone is happy. If something doesn't bring them joy, then potential doesn't really mean anything."

"B-but so many expect more from him." Timu blinked, setting the tears free.

"Well, even if that was true," Mirsha said, "It's not up to them how he spends his life. He's allowed to pursue happiness."

Mirsha took a final deep breath. Timu did her best to follow suit, though her breath was more choppy.

"You make it sound so easy," she said between sobs.

"It's not," Mirsha said, putting a kind hand on Timu's shoulder.

Timu nodded, and Mirsha brought her into a hug.

"But you're allowed to go at your own pace," she continued. "As hard as it is to slow down sometimes, I know you've got what it takes."

White-Out

The team ran across the field, snow crunching underfoot. It was a nice cloudy day at the top of Terror Mountain, and bright flecks of snow danced before Osielle Lindel's eyes as he buzzed above his teammates. Rinok had the Yooyuball, and paused to look around for someone to pass to; Osielle darted down a little lower, waving his arm to get the Bori's attention.

"Here!" he called, and Rinok looked up at the Buzz-or at least, Osielle assumed he did. The snow suddenly grew heavier, whirling more violently across his vision and hiding his teammate's white fur. He squinted, trying to make Rinok out in the flurry...

And then, out of nowhere, he felt the impact of the Yooyuball. Osielle cried out and clutched at his head, losing his balance in the air, and plummeted to the ground.

POOMF!

For a moment, his vision was completely black, but then it brightened into an unending field of white. He felt his breathing begin to quicken, but promptly tried to calm himself down. It was only snow... It was only snow...

"Are you okay?"

He heard voices above him, all of them speaking in frantic, concerned tones. He recognised the first voice as Minae Mitora's, and sure enough, with a few blinks, the blue Chia unplurred and swam into focus.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Osielle muttered, shaking his head. It was then that he saw something else fuzzy and undefined in the corner of his eye: a gloved hand reaching for him. Another blink revealed periwinkle blue fur spotted with clouds and long, antenna-like ears. Captain Prytariel, then.

He shook her hand and she hoisted him up. Osielle stumbled a little bit as he got to his feet and tested his wings for injury. Nope, they were fluttering like normal, just like a Buzz's should, but...

More snow fell between them all, so thick that it resembled fog-and thick enough that even though Osielle could feel his teammates watching him, he couldn't quite make out their expressions. A shudder ran down his back that he knew had little to do with the cold.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Pryatiel asked.

"Yeah. Don't worry, I'll be fine once the snow clears-"

"Um, Osi..." Minae started, hesitantly, "It's not snowing."

Osielle blinked. And blinked. And blinked. Each blink lasting longer than the last and he scrunched his eyelids tighter with each one. After the third blink, and a shake of the head, Osielle's vision finally started to clear-and he realised that Minae was right. It wasn't snowing after all.

"...Oh," he said, his voice barely more than a breath.

Prytariel came closer. "Is this... Does this happen often?" she asked.

Osielle remained silent.

"Is that why you've been taking all those sick days?" Prytariel bit her lip.

This time, Osielle decided to speak, but it took him a moment to clear the lump in his throat. "Yeah. It-it's been getting worse, too. I figured it was just recurring Blurred Vision, like what I thought I had in Year 13, but when I went to get it checked out, the doctors said..."

He couldn't finish. Next to him Prytariel lifted a hand, as if she couldn't decide whether or not to touch him. The team knew he wasn't very touchy-feely to begin with, so he appreciated the gesture-and decided that, today, he really needed the hug.

He left himself be pulled in, and the rest of the team joined them. They stook there in silence for a moment, all huddled together against the winds of a brewing storm, and Osielle losed his eyes, trying to memorise the feeling.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Minae asked quietly. It was hard to shrug, smothered in the centre of all his teammates, but Osielle tried, and everyone backed away to give him room.

"I never meant to keep it a secret," he said. "I just... didn't want to make a big deal of it. I thought if I just kept taking my medication and resting when it got really bad, it'd end up going away on its own. I didn't want to believe the doctors when they dold me I was going... going b-blind." He swallowed, unsure if he should continue, but his teammates all waited patiently for him to speak. In the end, he decided to. They were his teammates. They'd have his back.

Osielle took a deep breath. "Nothing-nothing worked. Not the ointments, not the goggles, not the resting... I'm worried that-that since I'm losing my sight, I won't be able to... I'll have to quit the team."

"Oh, Osi!" Tears sprung to the corners of Minae's eyes, and she rushed forward to try and hug him again. Thankfully Evrem, their Scorchio teammate originally from Team Tyrannia, held her back.

"Ugg ugg-gga, Minae."

"Sorry."

"It okay." Evrem looked from his emotional teammate back to Osielle. "Yooyuball not just about play. Yooyuball about... ugg-ga-ga."

"Teamwork,"Rinok supplied.

"Yes. Teamwork. That is the word." Evrem nodded sagely.

"He's right," Prytariel said. "And there are ways to be part of the team without being on the pitch, you know? For days when your vision is really bad. I don't know what I'd do without your playbook expertise going into our matches, for instance."

"And I love the honeyed orange slices you bring to practice!" Minae said. "Buzz honey is the best."

"You're great with ointments and remedies for muscle aches, too," Rinok said.

"And you ug ugga gugg akah grahgg-aka-gug. Ugg-ugg gal-akka-ack ug ug."

Osielle laughed. "Of course I do. You've got to know the strengths and weaknesses of your team, and I'm not the only one here who learned how to speak Tyrannian."

"But you were first."

"The point is," Prytariel said, "you're an asset to the team both on and off the field. Nobody knows us, or Yooyuball, like you do. So we'll find a way to keep you with us."

"And there's always coaching."

Osielle and his teammates all turned to look at Rinok. The Bori crossed his arms and grinned-an expression that Osielle found himself mirroring.

"You know, that doesn't sound like a bad idea," he said.

Minae bounced up and down, and it was only by the grace of Evrem still holding her that she didn't try to reach out and grab Osielle again.

"Does this mean you're going to be our coach for the next Cup?" she asked excitedly.

"I don't know about that. I think I've still got a few years left in me," Osielle said, "and I want to keep playing for as long as I can. But it might not be a bad idea for me to start reading up on this whole coaching thing."

"And who knows; maybe as you're figuring things out-as we're all figuring things out-we could put together a camp for Neopians wo are going through something similar?" Prytariel suggested.

Osielle nodded. "I like the sound of that too," he said. "In fact, I know someone who knows a thing or two about starting up a Yooyuball camp. Maybe we could pick her brain for some advice."

It Takes a Team

There wasn't a lot to be done once the twins got into one of their moods. Normally, they were of two minds, but when one got upset, the other usually cried alongside her.

This was why Loryche, as captain of the team, usually didn't bring them to practice without the babysitter, but she wasn't left with much of a choice nowadays. The babysitter's family had been affected by the grey curse, and Loryche insisted she go be with them. A choice that she stood by, but still kicked herself for making without much of a backup plan.

Pebpeb and Brambles were crying over a Mutant Yooyu who no longer wanted to play with them. Loryche couldn't blame the poor thing; they'd been babbling its ear off for the last few hours. She scooped up her younglings and dabbed their tears.

"It's alright. We'll be done here soon, and then we can go home and get some cactus blossoms. How does that sound?" Loryche said, bouncing them up and down as they giggled.

"No!" yelled a Tyrannian Moehog behind Loryche and her girls. "Cap made it to where I would faint left, and then score. You're supposed to be the distraction!"

"Please, you're a defender. Why would she possibly mean for you to do that manoeuvre?" laughed a Krawk, with spikes covering most of his body. "She obviously meant that to be me!"

"CAAAAP!" Scrap and Spikes yelled in unison.

They were arguing over the playbook again, always trying to find ways to one-up one another. Another pair she regularly had to calm down. Loryche tried ot place her girls down to deal with the situation, but they immediately started crying once more.

"Oh, Captain! I can take them off your hands for a while!" Wila Benne-Neyhbol said as she whirled over. She was the team's left forward–a newlywed young Tonu with a heart of gold–and Loryche knew she had aspirations of becoming a mother one day, but...

"WAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!" Pebpeb and Brambles cried even louder.

...for whatever reason, the girls just didn't like her.

Wila raised her hands and backed away to the bleachers, where she pretended to flip throug hthe playbook Scrap and Spikes had been fighting over moments ago. Loryche would have to talk with her later, as the two numbskulls were now physically fighting over whose sling was whose.

Luckily, the captain was granted a moment of peace when Mor Gollog, the team's goalkeeper (and one of the biggest relic Moehogs around) came up between Scrap and Spikes and lefted the fighting nincompoops by their shirts. He placed them on either side of him and gave a big huff.

"Sooorry Golloooog," Scrap and Scruff said in unison.

Mor huffed again and pushed the two towards one another. They reluctantly hugged, a team tradition after any fight, and went out to the pitch to practice the move they'd just been fighting over. Mor then came over to Loryche and held out his hands, offering to take Pebpeb and Brambles.

"Oh no, Mor, you should join the team and train. I don't want to take away anymore from today's session." Loryche bounced the girls on either side of her hips.

More looked over towards Willa, still sitting on the bleachers alone, and gestured again to take the girls. Loryche sighed and handed them over. The girls squealed and immediately started tugging on Mor's tusks, but he didn't seem to mind. He'd always been good with them, perhaps because he was the second eldest on the team besides her. She knew he was beloved by many nieces and nephews, despite having no children of his own.

"Find anything interesting in there?" Loryche asked as she sat down next to Wila.

Wila flipped through a couple more pages of past and future plays before placing it down beside them.

"Why don't they like me?" Wila said softly.

"Oh, hun, they're toddlers. Their interests change per bowel movement." Loryche laughed, but noticed Wila slouch more. "They'll come around, darling. Just give it time."

"Maybe it's a sign... that I won't be a good mom," Wila said, somehow even softer than before. "At least not like you."

Loryche looked over at Mor. Her girls swung from his ears while he watched the other two train... perks of being a painted pelic, she guessed. Although, she'd also believe he was just that strong.

She sighed. This was the third practice in a row she had disrupted by bringing them. And yet Mor always helped out, Scrap and Scruff never treated her differently, and somehow, Wila still thought so highly of her.

"Sweetie, I'm sorry," Loryche said, pulling Wila into a big hug.

"You're sorry?!" Wila said, muffled from the tight embrace.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I must make motherhood look like an omelette-walk," Loryche said jokingly. She released Willa and lovingly pinched her cheek. "But let me tell ya, I haven't slept a whole night in months."

"W-what?" Wila laughed and elbowed Loryche. "That's–that's not–"

"Not whatcha meant?" Loryche finished for her, "I know, pumpkin. I just wanted to see ya smile."

Wila's smile disappeared then, as though hiding after being called out.

"It's just... I see how hard you work. Juggling everything, and yet never dropping the ball. What if I can't handle that sort of pressure?" Wila said, returning to her softer voice.

"Sugar, I drop the ball all the time!" Loryche chuckled as Mor pretended not to know where he was going, and her girls' tiny hands covered his eyes. "It ain't about not dropping balls. It's about knowing which one's a Clockwork Yooyu and which one's a Regular Yooyu."

"Huh?"

Loryche paused, putting more thought into her next words. She must need more sleep; she was barely making sense to herself now.

"I suppose what I'm saying is... you're gonna make mistakes. Won't make ya a bad mom, just like it don't make you a bad Yooyuball player. Take your time, pass the ball to your teammates when you can, heck, drop a ball altogether if you need to."

She thought of her babysitter once again; Loryche hoped the girl was doing well, but she couldn't wait for her to return.

"It'll take practice, though, to know which balls are most important," she continued as she watched Scrap, Spikes, and Mor collide with each other. Mor held the girls high above his head, unfazed by the circumstances. "And it'll take time to learn all the ins and outs of the playbook."

Scrap and Spikes begged Mor for forgiveness, and it seemed Mor was letting the girls decide their fate. Loryche and Wila laughed.

The captain returned her attention to the young Tonu beside her. "But if you're willing to put in the work, you'll find there's no better team out there!"

Scrap and Spikes, as punishment, were now running laps around the pitch with either girl on their shoulders.

Then Loryche had an idea.

"How about this?" she said, watching Wila's old smile return. "If you're looking for some practice, I just happen to be down a babysitter for awhile. What do you say we form a new team to tackle this whole motherhood thing together?"

CTRL + ALT + ...

Keetra and her team were midway through a virtual simulation game–a tight matchup versus an expertly modeled Team Kreludor–when Goltron Mk I went haywire.

At first, the robot Tuskaninny began to repeat binary code, jamming up their team comms. Frustrating, but not unheard of–just one of those unique Virtupets problems that her friends on Neopia never had to deal with. Though they had problems of their own, with the grey spreading as much as it had. Keetra had often entertained thoughts of going down to visit...

But she had no time to think of that now, because things had gotten weirder.

Goltron had left their digital goal for no reason at all and was now virtually chasing Sela, their left defender, around the game board. A loud yell cut through the Yooyuball Simulator, and Keetra called a time-out to pause the game.

The Cybunny captain quickly removed her headset and blinked, readjusting to the bright lighting of their real-life practice pitch. Goltron had cornered Sela, who was coweing with her back against the wall.


"Go AWAY, Goltron!" the purple Xweetok yelled. She had already flung off her headset in the middle of the pitch.

"01000110 01110010 01101001 01100101 01101110 01100100," Goltron said again. "0101000 01101100 01100001 01111001."

Keetra bounded over to interfere. "What in the galaxy is going on?"

XL Striker straightened, rotating his head towards his captain. "HELP."

Keetra felt a chill run down her spine. "Friend" and "play"? That sounded a lot like Neopet V2, the evil program that had long been defunct... and the inspiration behind their team programmer's online name. She glanced over at the programmer booth, but Weldar, her right defender, was already two hops ahead of her. The mutant Grundo pulled V2_4ever by his tail fin out onto the Virtupets practice pitch.

"Explain," Weldar growled, shoving the Koi closer to Keetra.

V's glowing dimensional lines burned into the captain's vision, swimming beneath her eyelids every time she blinked. She'd always preferred speaking to htier programmer over a headset; looking at him gave her a headache.

V2_4ever fluttered his tail fin, miffed, the moment Weldar released it. "We won the year I built the Yooyuball Simulator, if you remember," he said. "Then last year, the other teams caught up. They called our tactics. I knew we needed to upgrade to stay one step ahead."

"Some upgrade." Sela accepted the large Grundo's help up, moving farther away from their binary-babbling goalkeeper. She was shaking Keetra couldn't tell if it was fear or anger, but she knew it was likely both.

Weldar glared. "The Koi must've reprogrammed Goltron to target Sela."

It was... plausible. The motivation was there: this year, Sela had been vocal in encouraging them all to trust their instincts, rather than rely so heavily on V's programming skills to fill out their playbook. And the orderly Goltron would never have acted so recklessly on his own.

"That wasn't the intention," V said through gritted teeth. "I've been researching advanced technology and happened across a floppy disk filled with old code."

"By 'old code,' you mean Neopet V2," Keetra said, trying to keep her cool.

"Barely!" V corrected. "Only slivers of him, really... The file is heavily corrupted. But once I saw what I had, I thought of Goltron: one of his biggest weaknesses is Athletic IQ. Knowing V2's intelligence was off the charts, I carefully–carefully–extracted a couple lines and added them to Goltron's programming. You know, since Plan A was vetoed..."

He looked pointedly at Keetra, who'd folded her arms.

"I'm not letting you clone me," she said. He'd pitched the idea to her earlier this year: an entire team of prodigies built, above all, to win. She'd been V's greatest champion in how much his programming skills could help their team, but even she'd known that idea was a bridge too far.

V flug up his finds in exasperation. "You can claim you're so worried about your friends in Neopia, and yet your schedule is packed with practice and code reivew. Meanwhile, your clones could be helping Neopia in your stead. They wouldn't even need to sleep."

"I don't want to send a bunch of bot clones in my place–I want to check in on my friends and see what they need. It would mean a lot more for me to make the trip..." Keetra rubbed her face. "Which I should probably do."

"SAD," Striker said, translating a new line of Goltron's binary code. "FRIEND. MEAN. Well that could mean many things, Goltron. Who's 'friend' in this instance?"

Sela took a deep breath to steady herself. She looked worriedly at their Tuskaninny goalkeeper. "I think Captain has a good reason not to trust your work, V."

"They'd probably go the way of Evil Sloth Clones," Weldar grumbled, "to be frank."

Now thier programmer was vibrating with anger, his bright lines blurring. "You would never have won the Cup without advancing your tech!" He gestured at the headsets they'd left on the field. "Sure, sometimes it breaks. But that's part of staying ahead: improving the code, testing new theories, iterating at top speed. Why can't you see that?!"

"01010011 01101111 01100010. 01010011 01101111 01100010. 01010011 01101111 01100010." Goltron's typical whirring noises had transitioned into a whine.

"Oh. Oh dear. I'm sorry to do this, but..." Striker opened a panel behind Goltron's neck and held down a button. The goalkeeper's arms stilled as he fully shut down.

"Poor bot... we'll have to do a full reboot, using backup data." The robot Wocky patted Goltron. "And on behalf of him: sorry, Sela. he wasn't in his right framework."

Keetra turned to the pitch. "There are more important things than your programming, V, as impressive as it is." She picked up Sela's dropped headset. "It's not worth hurting friends just for a bit more speed, or cleverness. Honestly... the grey crisis is a good reminder of what really matters. We're so far removed from it, sometimes it can be easy to forget. But that's real, down there, not some simulation."

She blinked hard, watching vestiges of V's glowing lines dance behind her eyelids. "And you know what? Sela's right about trusting our instricts. We've become so reliant on your tech to enhance our teamwork that we've lost sight of the strengths each of us bring to the team. I've been so wrapped up in improving our stats that I haven't been thinking enough about everything–or everyone–outside of the Simulator. It's like I've been trapped here."

"What are you talking about? We're making huge strides!"

She paused, looking at him one last time. "Find yourself someone else to clone, V. You're done here."

The Koi's jaw dropped. He stared at the captain for a long while and shook his head.

"Big mistake," he said, the nswam through the air, out of the practice pitch.

Keetra let go of a breath and closed her eyes–then felt the soft embrace of Sela, and a from pat on the back from Weldar.

"Thank you, Captain," Sela said. "I know that wasn't easy, but... maybe we don't need a programmer. We can put our heads together, build on ideas that are more... us."

"And if you are making the trip down, I'm going with," Weldar added with a grunt. "You're not traveling alone anytime soon. Not with that goon on the loose."

Keetra shuddered. "Thanks, Weld. I am a little worried about what he might be up to next... but it is a relief knowing someone has my back. Several someones." She took in this moment with her teammates, each of them a bright, burning star in their own right.

"I do think I could really use some distance from this place for a little while, she continued. "And helping friends in need would really help me get out of my head."

"A team trip to Neopia?" Striker said. "I can outline an entire schedule, based on the number of weeks we would like to stay. One? Five? Twenty? Let's try one of each."

He stood still for a few moments. "And... done!"