Spring Arises
By Yian Chao
Dawn the time of spring comes, every moment as I wait for this hour to come. I will walk to the meadows and chill with no noise. Along, I walk towards the mountains as each hour passes. During sunset, I will go back to the meadows as the breeze blows flowers and seeds regrowing. As I approached the garden, I could feel the spring come and arrive when I saw a yellow rose appear. Animals and birds migrate here to feel the warm weather during dawn.
Our Mokuren Magnolia Tree
By Caren Chung
“Look how pretty the flowers are!”
As a child, every time springtime rolled around, I would look out the window and exclaim to my mother in pure joy over how pretty the flowers outside were. Right outside my house, in the front yard, a large Mokuren magnolia tree would spread its branches and showcase its beautiful flowers every year. I would watch as green buds would slowly form, open up, and then blossom into huge pink-and-white flowers. The petals would flutter prettily in the wind, then eventually fall off the tree and form an ocean of petals in our yard. I remember picking them up and tossing them into the air. They felt like velvet and smelled exhilaratingly sweet.
For me, the blossoming of the Mokuren magnolia tree always signaled the start of spring. The tree itself was the whole embodiment of spring, with its enormous glamor and presence. It was so obvious, so constant, that my child self took it for granted.
I don’t exactly remember when, but the Mokuren magnolia tree outside my house began to stop blooming every spring. The petal-filled scenery I would see everyday slowly became one with only a few flowers. Before, the tree had blossomed so enthusiastically that its flowers would engulf the front of my house. But now, its branches stood bare, without a petal to be seen. Every time I would come home from school, I would glance at the tree, secretly hoping that a new bud had formed somewhere on its branches. But most of the time, it didn’t.
Every so often, in a passing comment, my mother would say in Japanese, “I wonder if the flowers will bloom this year.” I would shrug in response, no longer expecting much. But nevertheless, I would peer out the window in search of a flowerbud. I would look, desperate for a glimpse of the everlasting Mokuren magnolia tree from my memories.
Eventually, I would reply, “Maybe next year.”
The Sad Witch's Apprentice
by Raquel Duran
Ka-poof!
The purple, sludge-like liquid in the caldron unleashed an explosion of magic dust, covering the area around it. Caught in the crossfire was Emma and her teacher, Miss Ginwood. Emma sneezed as Miss Ginwood, her stern expression covered in dust walked over to her, shaking her head in disappointment.
“Emma, how many newt tails did you put in there?” she asked.
“Um…two? Like you said to do?” Emma answered nervously.
“Emma, you were supposed to put the newt tails in after you put the vanilla leaves in there!” Miss Ginwood scolded, pointing to the still-present leaves sitting on the table.
“I’m really sorry, Miss Ginwood!” Emma cried out. “I messed up, because…I didn’t listen, as usual.”
Miss Ginwood threw a bucket of water over the caldron fire and removed the caldron. “Go and get some fresh air,” she told Emma. “We’ll try this again when I’m done cleaning out this mess.”
Emma walked out into the bright spring day. The green grass, complete with a path leading away from the house was laid out before her like a never-ending carpet. While tiny brown songbirds flew and chirped and pecked at the ground. She began to walk forward along the path.
The fresh spring breeze brushed against her skin and hair, a relaxing sensation for her indeed. She closed her eyes, thinking back to the past.
In her mind, she saw a cozy yellow room full of warm sunlight. Her mother, a woman with soft, beautiful features and shoulder-length hair walked in and sat down next to her.
“Still reading about magic?” she asked her with a smile.
“Yeah. It’s so interesting,” Emma replied, not looking up.
“Every time I come in here, you always have your nose in a book,” her mother said. “What have you learned so far?”
“Well, some wands are made with dragon scales and phenix heartstrings. They're very rare, along with the wands that they are made into. I can imagine that only the most powerful and wisest wizards have them.” Emma inserted a bookmark into the book and closed it. She stood up and picked up a broomstick. “Just imagine me, Mom, as a wizard! I would make potions for everyone who asked me! From strength-boosting, to shape-shifting, and even potions to get rid of chicken pox!” She waved the broom around, trying to give the impression of casting a spell. “Take this mythical creature! Keep back, you cad! I am Emma the Wizard, and with my magic skills by my side, no one can stop me! Yah! Yah!”
Her mother’s smile got wider with amusement. “Emma, you sure want to be a wizard, don’t you?”
“Yeah! I feel ready!” Emma declared with pride. “I just need someone to teach me what I should do, though.”
Her mother stood up and took back the broomstick from her daughter’s hands. “Don’t worry. I’m sure that one day, I will be able to find someone to teach you.”
“Well, I don’t wanna wait around any longer. I wanna find someone. I’ll even do it myself should I have to,” Emma said.
“Patience, Emma. Patience is needed.” Her mother advised with a giggle.
“In the meantime, while we look for someone, I’ll hit the books so I’ll be ready.” Emma flung herself back onto the couch and opened the book back up again.
“Hm, now let’s see…oh right! In order to make a wand out of phoenix heartstrings…”
Her mother, before stepping out of the room, looked back at her daughter, happy to have been blessed with a child like her.
Emma opened her eyes once again, catching sight of a family and their child sitting on a hill, laughing and playing together. Her heart warmed as she thought back to the past.
“Look Mom, look!” Emma shouted. “Let me show you what I’ve learned so far!” She held up a shiny red apple in her hand and bowed to her mother with gusto, as if she had finished performing in a play.
“What will you do with the apple, Emma?” her mother asked.
“Ever since Mrs Ginwood started giving me lessons, we’ve been working on making things float.” She set the apple down and began to focus all of her energy into the wand.
“Migai fuy amuwa, hunasu!” she recited. A small burst of magic sparks hit the apple, and lo and behold, it began to float.
Her mother applauded. “I see you’ve been working hard!”
“I have! And this time, it shouldn’t-”
The apple zoomed straight upward into the sky and out of sight.
“-fly away…” Emma could only give off a clumsy smile and say “Oops.”
“Emma,” her mother began, “I’m very proud of you for working hard and making mistakes.”
Emma giggled.
Bonk! The apple fell back down from the sky and hit her on the head.
“Ouch!” she cried out, rubbing her head. But she simply smiled once again.
Emma’s thoughts drifted back to the present. She found herself going back into the direction of Mrs. Ginwood’s house. Her head turned towards a small graveyard. She opened the gate, and walked inside.
She found an old weathered gravestone, which read,
Here lies Olivia Dansburg
Born 1295-Died 1305
Beloved mother and daughter
Rest in Peace
Emma fell onto her knees and began to cry. Trying to block her tears, she closed her eyes and thought back to that day.
She was concentrating on mixing together a potion in a cauldron, trying, trying, trying to make a cure for her mother. She couldn’t bear to lose her. She couldn’t lose her. Not when she was so close. Her arms were sore and she was tired, but she had to help her mother, at all costs, in any way she could.
She grabbed a glass bottle and a ladle and scooped the potion into the bottle. Corking it shut, she ran down the road as fast as she could.
Panting with exhaustion, she burst through the doctor’s door. The doctor, seeing her, looked away for a moment with an expression of worry and sadness, then turned towards her.
“I know why you’re here,” the doctor said. “But she didn’t make it, Emma.”
Emma’s eyes widened in shock. “What?”
“I did everything I could, but she…”
“No, no, no! I just finished making the potion! She can’t be gone yet!” Emma burst into the ward. Her mother laid on a bed, covered in white sheets. Her eyes were closed. Her chest wasn’t going up and down.
Emma walked to her bedside, and held her mother’s hand. “M-mom…?” she asked, hoping for even a whisper.
But nothing happend.
Emma then felt that her mother’s body was cold.
Her eyes, wide with shock and disbelief, began to shed tears.
“Mom…No! Moooooom!” Emma was now screaming. She broke down into tears and collapsed into her mother’s cold body, crying and screaming.
Later on, she walked back to Mrs. Greenwood's house in the cold, rainy night, hugging herself to keep warm.
“Mom…I’m sorry…” she sobbed. “If only I came sooner…if only I had more time to make the potion for you…if only…”
Back in the present, Emma found herself back at Miss Ginwood’s house. With a sigh, she opened the door.
“There you are! I was getting worried about you, Emma!” Miss Ginwood exclaimed.
“But I always come back,” Emma pointed out. “I’m ready if you’re ready now, Miss Ginwood.”
Miss Ginwood noticed the sad expression in Emma's eyes. “Emma, are you alright?”
“Not really, to be honest,” Emma muttered. “It’s because…” She stopped speaking, not wanting to upset herself anymore.
“Your mother,” Miss Ginwood guessed.
Emma nodded. “How did you know?”
“Ever since she died, you’ve been acting differently.” Miss Ginwood said. “There’s something that I wanted to give you actually. It’s from your mother.”
Emma’s head perked up. “What is it?” she asked.
Miss Ginwood picked a letter from a bookshelf and dusted it off, before handing it to Emma. “She wanted me to give this to you when she died, but I thought at first that it would make you more sad than you already were.”
Emma opened the envelope and took out the letter. It read:
Emma,
By the time this letter has found its way to you, I'll be gone already. I am proud to have raised such a kind, determined, and hard-working daughter as your mother. I know that I am the most important person in your life, ever since your father died. You have always wanted to be a witch ever since you were little. I can remember fondly taking you to the library many times and you always going to the magic arts section and picking out the books that interested you. You would keep these books for months on end, but paying the late fee, as you said, was worth even a small piece of knowledge.
Now that I am sick, the doctor and I knew that my sickness could not be cured. We hid this fact so you would not have to feel sad, but you were determined to help me, in any way possible. I can imagine that you must have worked for many days and nights, trying to find some kind of magic you could use to cure me.
Now that I’m gone, I want you to know this: I love you and I wish you the very best in your path to becoming a witch. I know you’ll make it to the end of the road.
Love, Mom
Emma felt a flutter of warmth touch her heart. She put down the letter and stood up. Tears no longer flowed from her eyes. “Mom…Thank you, Mom.” She turned back to Miss Ginwood.
“Miss Ginwood?” Emma asked.
“Yes, Emma?” Miss Ginwood asked.
“Can I make another attempt at the potion?” Emma picked up some bluebird feathers and a caldron ladle.
Miss Ginwood, reading the renewed determination in Emma's eyes, nodded.
And from that day, Emma no longer cried.
by Raquel Duran
It was a warm autumn day. The air was crisp, the leaves vivid and alive with red, yellow, and orange hues, some leaves having extra tinges of red, yellow and orange mixed in with them on their smooth, wet surfaces.
The cloaked figure that was walking down this path however, wasn’t taking the time to appreciate the picturesque seasonal autumn surroundings. Not once did he stop to look at the tiny gray squirrels, scampering around and stuffing acorns in their cheeks pouches. Not once did he stop to observe the red, yellow and orange leaves falling from their trees or enjoy the silence or cool crisp air. He had other things in mind.
He soon came across a fork in the road, two arrows on a wooden side pointing left and right.
“AHHH! HELP! HELP ME!”
A young woman came running down the road as fast as her two feet could carry her. Behind her, some bandits came following suit, armed with wooden clubs and small sharp daggers.
The young woman, catching sight of the cloaked figure, began yelling, “Hey, you! Help me, help me! Please hel-”
The woman let out a scream of pain, clutching her head. She fell down, passed out. Her limp body rolled over and stopped at his feet.
The cloaked figure looked down at the unconscious woman and then back at the bandits. Reaching behind his cloak, he unsheathed a giant claymore.
It was quite long, big, and heavy in order to be called a claymore. Nonetheless, the cloaked figure was able to hold it single handedly, the first detail the bandits noticed when they got closer. They stopped in fear.
The cloaked figure rose his mighty claymore in such a way that made the sunlight shine on the blade’s edges. He then took a fighting stance, ready to unleash any attack on any bandits who would dare come near.
The now frightened bandits were just as quick to turn around and run away in fear.
With the threats now gone, the cloaked figure resheathed his claymore and knelt down to check on the girl, who was now waking up.
The girl, taking in her surroundings, looked around to find the bandits gone and the cloaked figure standing over her. “Did you fend off the bandits?” she asked him.
“Yes,” the cloaked figure answered in a serious, but deep voice. It sounded a little gruff, even.
“I saw you passing out while you were running away from those bandits earlier,” the cloaked figure told the woman. “Why was that?”
“That just happens to me whenever I start to panic,” the woman explained, getting up and dusting the dirt off of her dress. “Some nasty old witch passed through my town a while back. She cursed me. I don’t like it.”
The cloaked figure’s attention rose.
Story of Climate Change
by Andrew Lee
Once upon a time, nestled in a picturesque town, a lush green forest and a pristine lake formed the backdrop for a close-knit community. Harmoniously coexisting with the wildlife, the townspeople thrived on their hard work, cultivating bountiful crops and raising robust animals. Their simple economy thrived on the exchange of goods and services, and contentment filled the air. However, their idyllic existence was soon disrupted when the weather took a drastic turn. Winters grew colder, summers intensified, and the rains became erratic, wreaking havoc on their once-reliable climate. Floods and droughts struck with increasing frequency, causing crops to wither and animals to fall ill. Anxiety spread among the townspeople, their worry growing with each passing day. Realizing the urgent need to adapt, they resolved to take action. Together, they embarked on a journey of resilience and sustainability. Investing their resources wisely, they embraced new technologies like solar panels and wind turbines, harnessing clean and renewable energy to power their homes and businesses. Every step they took was marked by their commitment to minimize their carbon footprint and protect their environment. Remarkably, their collective efforts bore fruit. As they adapted to the changing environment, hope blossomed once again. The town's economy rebounded, fueled by the emerging renewable energy sector. With newfound expertise and a shared purpose, the townspeople discovered innovative ways to trade not only amongst themselves but also with neighboring communities. Their determination and adaptability sparked the birth of novel industries, previously unimagined. Local artisans crafted eco-friendly products, while sustainable agriculture practices thrived. Jobs were created, and the town began to flourish in ways unforeseen before. Gradually, the townspeople realized that climate change was not merely an environmental issue but also an economic challenge. Their commitment to adaptation and investment in green technologies had transformed their once-vulnerable town into a resilient, sustainable, and prosperous community. Through their ingenuity, they had harnessed the power of adversity and turned it into an opportunity for growth. As the years passed, their story became an inspiration to others facing similar challenges. The little town, once on the brink of despair, became a shining example of what could be achieved when people united with a common purpose. Their unwavering spirit and determination to build a sustainable future remained a testament to the indomitable human spirit. And so, the little town, surrounded by its beautiful green forest and crystal-clear lake, continued to thrive, forever grateful for the lessons learned from their struggle against climate change. Their story echoed across generations, reminding all who heard it that in the face of adversity, there is always hope, and through unity and innovation, even the direst of circumstances can be overcome.
Whispers of the Heart
By Aaron Kim
Once upon a time, in the enchanting city of Avelora, there lived a young woman named Isabella. She
possessed a radiant spirit, her eyes sparkling with intelligence and warmth. But hidden beneath her
joyful facade, Isabella grappled with a struggle familiar to many—a difficulty in expressing her
deepest emotions for someone she held dear.
The object of her affection was a young man named Sebastian. He was a gentle soul with a
captivating smile that could melt hearts. Isabella and Sebastian had grown up together, their bond
evolving over the years into an unbreakable friendship. Sebastian’s caring nature and unwavering
support had captured Isabella’s heart, yet she found herself unable to voice her true feelings.
The fear of rejection haunted Isabella’s thoughts, like a shadow following her every step. She
pondered the consequences of baring her soul—what if Sebastian didn’t reciprocate her affections?
What if their friendship crumbled under the weight of unspoken words? These uncertainties built an
impenetrable fortress around her vulnerability, trapping her within.
Months turned into years, and Isabella’s unrequited love remained hidden, unspoken. She cherished
their friendship, even as her heart yearned for more. She watched as Sebastian embarked on
relationships with others, offering her unwavering support while concealing her own heartache.
Jealousy pricked at her soul whenever she saw him with someone else, but she masked her emotions
behind a brave smile.
One evening, as the moon cast its gentle glow over the city, Isabella found herself seeking solace on
a quiet bench in the park. The weight of her unexpressed emotions had become too heavy to bear.
In that moment of solitude, she resolved to face her fears head-on. She took a deep breath,
summoning her courage, and decided to pen a letter—a vessel for her unspoken words.
Late into the night, Isabella poured her heart onto the paper, letting her emotions flow freely. Every
word was an expression of love, longing, and vulnerability that she had bottled up for far too long.
With trembling hands, she sealed the letter, determined to deliver it to Sebastian the next day.
As dawn broke, a mix of anticipation and anxiety pulsed through Isabella’s veins. She approached
Sebastian’s home, her footsteps echoing her resolute determination. When he opened the door, his
warm smile greeted her, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing within her.
Taking a deep breath, Isabella handed him the letter, her voice quivering as she said, “Sebastian, this
is for you. It’s something I’ve been meaning to share with you.”
Curiosity danced in Sebastian’s eyes as he accepted the letter, unaware of the emotions contained
within. Isabella’s heart pounded, waiting for his reaction.
With each word he read, Sebastian’s brows furrowed, his eyes widening in astonishment. He looked
up at Isabella, his gaze a mix of surprise and affection.
“Isabella, I never imagined,” he whispered, his voice tinged with regret. “I’ve carried the same
feelings in my heart, but fear held me back. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing our friendship.”
Relief and joy washed over Isabella like a soothing wave. The weight of unspoken emotions that
burdened her for years was finally lifted. In that moment, they realized they had been silently
yearning for one another, imprisoned by their shared fears.
With newfound hope and clarity, Isabella and Sebastian embarked on a wondrous journey together,
their love no longer hidden in the depths of their hearts. They discovered that vulnerability and
honesty were the keys to unlocking the true depth of their connection.
Their love story illuminated the streets of Avelora, filling the air with laughter and shared adventures,
a testament to the power of overcoming fear and embracing vulnerability. Isabella vowed never to let
fear silence her again, for she had learned that the risk of rejection was far outweighed by the
possibility of a love that bloomed from the courage to speak one’s truth.