Issue V

New school year, new tips! These articles will focus around fitting a theme into your writing, enhancing your word vocabulary, correcting common punctuation mistakes we all make from time-to-time, and editing!

We, as writers, have our own dictionary ingrained into our minds from an early age. This dictionary expands and grows as we give it lots of nutrients from books, TV shows, play scripts, poetry, and more! However, a branch of this dictionary could possibly seem…stale. Maybe it’s lacking a word or two, or a word that just doesn’t seem to fit the mood you’ve set. Here are some helpful tips to overcome those prickly branches and let loose a plethora of leaves decorated with brand new words for you to use at your disposal.

Tip 1: Cinnamon Synonyms

Similar words are oh-so-sweet! We all want to make our writing the best we can do, but sometimes we come up blank for a word, or the word you can think of just doesn’t fit. Enter Thesaurus. Thesaurus gives not only a handful of various synonyms, but synonyms for nouns, verbs, and example sentences. There are strong matches for certain noun and verb meanings, as well as weak matches. Thesaurus is a helpful website to find the perfect word to make your writing masterpiece.

Tip 2: Books, Books, Good For The Heart

Books offer great writing tips, even if it’s a really good story or poem. They are everywhere! Whether books are in the form of paper, digital, or audio, they are easily accessible. Of course, to find the paperback and hardback versions of books, you can go to bookstores or the bookstore’s website to buy them. Powells, Barnes & Noble, and public libraries are great examples for finding physical copies. For digital, sites like SORA, Amazon Kindle, Libby, and more offer ebooks. Along with these stores and sites, audio books can be found in them, too!

Tip 3: To Media, and Beyond!

Documentaries, comedies, country, pop, horror, and fantasy. Sprinkled in these types of media are hidden gems of descriptive words. Whether it be in the main character’s dialogue, or the narrator’s telling of the migration of a flock of birds, flavorful words can be found everywhere! Netflix, Disney+, and even basic cable TV can provide wonderful examples of descriptive language. Any piece of media can be the beginning of an adventure to collect new words!

“Mark, are you ready to go? We have to film that abandoned place in 30 minutes sharp.” I said ahead of time knowing that Mark is always late. I should fill you in a little, I am Dean Willis, older brother to Mark Willis. We share this small apartment, in fact I am writing this story in it right now. You see me and my brother found someone, or something in that place we were about to go to. We used to film videos in all sorts of abandoned places…But not anymore, not since June 28th 2019. Anyways it’s been six months and I thought it was time to let the world know what we found on that Friday afternoon. 

“I’m coming, calm down, we have plenty of time” Mark said in a rush, hopping around on one foot trying to tie the other foot's shoelace. “Alrighty, I’m ready, let's rock and or roll Deany bean” Mark said, giving me a quick punch on the shoulder. “Don’t hit me, I’m older” I said, rubbing my shoulder. I have to admit I am not the strongest, but I can hold a camera.  That's why I’m always behind it. Mark is the star of our channel, he gets to run around haunted places blabbing his face off. While I on the other hand have a better job, I get to hold a 40 pound camera every week and shuffle my way around after him. 

About 20 minutes later we made it to the haunted house I was talking about earlier. I grabbed the heavy camera and Mark just complained he was hungry while stuffing his face with BBQ chips. The outside of the house looked rotten and not taken care of…like at all. It was a stone mansion looking castle thing. Very large building, I don’t think anyone has been in there in about 100 years. I did some research on the place and I found little to nothing. All I got was some story on a man named Dr. Murda James. He was supposed to be the owner of this place but he left it for some reason. Nobody saw him leave, he was just gone. 

“Mark? Should we do this live or just upload it later?” I said, but I knew he wanted to go live. He says it brings in more views, but I think the opposite. “Hmmmm, tough choice, I say we go live” Mark said, licking the BBQ off his fingers. “Somehow I knew you were gonna say that, just like every other time.” I said sarcastically. He just laughed his weird hyena laugh, I couldn't help but laugh too. We got out of our crusty van and started setting up how the video was gonna go. In most of our videos we pretend there is another spirit there by me, smashing something or opening a door. But this house was different. It was not like the other houses that were posted as haunted but weren't really haunted. Hardly anybody knew about this place, we just found it one day on a bike ride in some grassy area of Nevada.

Our youtube channel is called ‘haunted hunters.’ Just in case you ever decide to look us up. We haven't posted as much since the day we went into that house though. Anyways back to the story. “I’m so hungry, Deany bean, what are we eating after we go live?” Mark said, still complaining about his hunger. “How about Chinese food?” I said, trying to make him stop talking about food before we go live. “You my good sir, have gotten yourself a deal.” Mark said, holding out his hand as if he was royalty. “Now let's stop wasting time, we have two minutes before we have to go live now.” I said trying to get us back on track with the video. “Alright, alright, don’t be such a stick in the mud” Mark said getting into character for the video. 

“Alrighty, going live in 3…2…1 shoot” I said as I held the camera up to him and pressed the live button on my camera. “Hello my little haunted hunters, we are streaming live here in Nevada doing a video on this supposed haunted mansion. This is so sick.” Mark went on with the intro for what seemed like forever. Mark started walking backwards up to the front door. “They say this house used to belong to a guy who was experimenting on people for age reversing and something went wrong. Nobody ever saw him again” Mark said in his spooky but entertaining voice. “He had about ten people he was testing on. Legend has it, the ghosts in the house scream at you when you enter.” Mark said, but we did not know if this was true or not, it was just for content. 

“Let’s take a look inside shall we.” Mark said, leading the way. “Ladies first” I said right after. Mark tried to open the massive doors, but those doors were big and wooden, so it was really heavy. It probably does not help that the doors haven't moved in over 50 years. “Some help would be nice.” Mark said sarcastically. “I’m holding a camera.” I said just filming him and chuckling as he struggles to move the door an inch. I set the camera down and filmed us both struggling to open the door now. About 3 minutes later we managed to open the door a solid 10 inches and called it good enough. “That was way harder than it should have been.” Mark said out of breath from pushing on the door so hard. “Amen” I said, panting. “Alright guys we got the massive spooky door open , now let's take a look inside.” Mark said practically jumping his way into the house.

At first it seemed like every other house we filmed, Empty, quiet, cold. But things started getting weird about 10 minutes into the livestream. “Ok guys we are now in this old mansion, I wonder if we will see any ghosts.” Mark whispered into the camera. “BOO” I screamed at him just to make him jump, surely enough he did. “AHH” Mark yelled, “not funny dude.” “I don’t know, I thought it was pretty funny.” I said as I was laughing. “Let's just keep moving on shall we?” Mark said, rolling his eyes. “Fine, let's keep going.” 

We walked into the kitchen, nothing much to it, just a bunch of cobwebs and old furniture. “Maybe we should take this stuff back to our place Dean, some of this stuff is nice.” Mark said, Touching everything he saw. “I don't think that's aloud Mark, And this wooden furniture looks like if I sat in it, it would crumble.” I said, and he just kept moving. Here is where it gets weird. We started walking into the next room, the office room. Overall the room was nice, old bookshelves and books. It was your typical 1920’s Office. As we looked around we started finding more and more yellow files of paper. “Hey Dean, come look at these.” Mark said and started flipping through the piles of yellow file papers. I was not pointing the camera right at them as we read a file with the name Emily Alden plastered on it. It had a green success stamp plastered onto it. “What does this mean Dean?” Mark said to me. “I don’t know Mark, maybe she was one of the test subjects.” I said, I have to admit at this point I was getting a little weirded out. This was when we figured out that all those rumors about this house might be true. All of it, even the ghosts part, well we never actually found any ghosts that day but what we found gave us not disbelief that they are real, and probably in that house. 

The file read, “Emily Alden, female, 43, wishes to be younger.” But how does that make her a test subject? “ Hey come look at this.” Mark said, huddling around one of the bookshelves. “What have you found now Mark? A new best friend?” I said, laughing and walking over to him. I have been nervously readjusting the camera in my hand for a while now, my palms are so sweaty, what could Mark have found? “Look there is a gap between the wall and this bookshelf, I don't know if I just watched too many movies or if this is what I think it is.” Mark said, fitting his fingers between the gap. “Maybe you should not stick your fingers in the gap Mark, and what do you think is behind there?” I said, readjusting the camera again. “Well from what I know there should be a room behind here, we just have to move this.” Mark said. “What do you think chat? Should we see what's behind this creaky old bookshelf?” I said, while watching the chat. The chat was now blowing up with “YES MOVE THE SHELF!” and “I LOVE YOUR CHANNEL!” We always appreciate our fans.

About a minute later we replied to the chat after looking it over. “Well it looks like nobody wants us to move the shelf, I’m only kidding, you guys were half begging us to move the shelf.” Mark said, Looking at the camera and laughing. “Ok Mark lets get this chunky thing moved already before my arms fail me.” I said , setting the camera on some books so that the viewers can see. Fast forward past the embarrassing amount of time it took us to move that thing, it is now moved enough for us to slide though. “It's way too dark in there, do you got a flashlight on you Dean?” Mark said, holding out his hand. “Yes, of course your honor.” I said sarcastically, pulling the flashlight from my bag. “Did you fart? it smells funky in here.” Mark said, grabbing the flashlight. “I was wondering the same thing, I thought you did.” I said curiously. This is the weird part I was telling you about and you're about to see why. 

A weird sound came from the room, a little girl’s yelp? “Did you guys hear that?” Mark said to the camera and me. “Yeah, I did what was that? It sounded like a little girl.” I said, worried about what we would find. “Here let me turn the flashlight on.” Mark said, while turning the flashlight on. What was staring at us was a corpse. The corpse was of Dr. Murda James. “OH MY GOSH GUYS” Mark yelled. “I think it is time to go now Mark” I said, in a rush. Then another voice said something, it was that little girl again. “No please don't go, i've been here forever, please help me.” She cried. “Are you catching all this Dean?” Mike said, thinking this was fake. “Yes Mark, we are still live, the chat is going nuts.” I said, this is really creepy. “Is that a real body?” Mark said to the girl. “Yes he is very real, he is from the 1920’s, his name is Dr. Murda James.” She was talking as if she knew us for ages. “How old are you, and how did you get here?” I asked, thinking she is a ghost or something. “I am in the body of a 9 year old girl, but I am not 9 years old…should I tell you the full story?” She asked us as she walked closer. “Yeah tell us the full story, start from the top.” Mark said to her.  “Ok well since you asked so nicely.” she said to Mark. “But first, I must know what your name is.” She said to mark. “My name is Mark Willis and this is my brother Dean willis.” He said, pointing his flashlight at me. “Ok well my name is Emily Alden.” She said, sticking out her hand to shake. He took it. 

“Mark, Emily Alden was one of the test subjects.” I said to him, “I know, let's just see how she is still alive, end the stream and get out of here.” Mark said, it’s obvious he is getting creeped out now. “Ok Emily, start from the beginning of your story.” Mark said to her, “If you insist.” She said back. “Back in 1928, I was a 43 year old woman.” She started, “I wished nothing more than to be a little kid again, not have to worry about aging and gray hair. That year I stumbled upon this guy named Dr. Murda James, he said he was testing out a new medicine that was supposedly the cure to all aging, which means you will be immortal forever.” She said while staring at Mark. “He tested ten different medicines on ten different people, he believed at least one of them would work. One of them did work, the one he gave to me.” She said, frowning. “I didn’t know what I was signing up for when I took it, I thought I was going to be young and beautiful forever…not a little girl forever.” She said, while pointing her hands at her small body. “ When Dr. Murda James seen that the medicine he gave to me worked, and he decided to give himself some, the whole test was for him to find the cure and use it on himself and himself only. But when he shot the medicine into his veins like he did to me, it didn’t go as smoothly.” She said, smiling wide at us. 

“Now I am a young little girl forever, and I can not die.” She said, her smile growing. “Why did you stay here? Why didn’t you leave?” Mark said to her, curiously. “Because if I left I can’t be free anymore, I am a grown woman I deserve to be free. My only issue right now is I am so hungry.” She said, licking her lips. “Mark” she said, walking closer and started chuckling. “Now that you know, I can not let you go!” She said, as she leapt up and took a chunk out of Mark's cheek. At this point I was running as fast as I could out of that place, all I could here were the screams of my brother. I wish every day that I went back for him, I know I should have. But when he didn’t come out with me I knew if I went back in, I would be next. “DEAN!!!, HELP ME DEAN, HELP MEEEEEE.” Marks last words I ever heard. 

The livestream was still going, I don’t know what the viewers were thinking, half of them probably thought it was staged. At least until they stopped seeing him on the channel. There are always questions about that day, but I never had the courage to tell the story until now, and I’m writing it because I don’t want to continue the channel without him anymore, it was our thing.

I jumped into my crusty van, my hands were shaking so bad. It took me a few seconds to grab my keys from my pocket. Then putting the key into the van was a whole other problem. She started running after the van as I started the van up. The adrenaline rush I was having was so bad, my heart racing. When I looked into my rearview mirror, what I saw was that monster child thing standing there, face covered in my brother's blood. The brother I was filming with not even 20 minutes ago. I wish we never went there at all. All I want is more time with him, that's all I want. But all I have is memories now.

I floored my crusty van until I was on the main road. I turned on the radio, Amy Whinehouse was singing Back to Black. All I did after that was drive, I drove until I saw tomorrow, and then I went home and ate chinese food like Mark wanted to do when we came home.

“We only said goodbye with words 

   I died a hundred times

  You go back to her and I go back to

  I go back to us” - Amy Whinehouse Back to Black

In the quiet hours where shadows dance,
A flicker of movement, a fleeting glance.
Silent paws on ancient stone,
The witch is never quite alone.

Eyes of ember, sharp and bright,
Gleaming in the pale moonlight.
A creature born of spell and night,
Bound to her by an unseen sight.

A whisper shared without a word,
A pact that only souls have heard.
Through every curse and spell undone,
They move as two, but act as one.

Feathers black or fur of shade,
From the shadow's breath, their form is made.
In flight or pounce, they guard, they guide,
The witch’s power by their side.

In cauldron’s smoke and candle’s glow,
Together through the worlds they flow.
A partner neither bound by chains,
But tethered still, through joy and pains.

And when the stars grow cold and dim,

Her power rests, but not in him.

For even in the darkest night,

Her familiar stands, her constant light.

Glass blows

I pop the Bubbles

Like snow.

Life:

Dawn till dusk, deep in my heart, I do believe that life is a broken-winged bird that cannot fly, Each laugh, tear and lullaby becomes memory because tomorrow is just another day where I do not yet know who I'll be, what I'll say or how I will say it.

Belong:

Losing the battle against sleep, I am happy to belong. Fire burning words into stone, with a hole in my heart. The rest of me is already leaving, the rest of me is already gone. Love is like a blanket with the soft hush of wind through the leaves knowing that our future summers are as good as the past yet we don't understand yet and we don't believe yet. But always remember that what is bad won't be bad forever because what is good can sometimes last a long, long time and looking up in the darkness at a ceiling of stars you see a whole new world.

In mind:

Looking out at the water, the ocean is right there if you look out your window. Words gathering meaning, becoming thoughts outside my head, cold and treeless as a bad dream, holding a story that we’ll tell again and again all winter long. Already I’m drawing circles on the glass, humming myself someplace far away from here, already color and sounds and words, it’s always felt like the place we belong to, each thing we wish for will one day come true.

Tokyo, 2032
Four years after the world-wide nuclear bombing.
Hikaru remembers that day quite clearly, still. His family was out of town, leaving him, a 17 year old boy, to his own devices for the week. It was odd, honestly. He didn’t feel terrified when the T.V. channel switched to the news to tell everyone to run for cover. Even now, as he roamed the streets, hopping over the rusted lumps and scraps of metal he used to call cars, he felt calm. His mind didn’t even stray to the thought of his family. They’d probably be alright, with where they were going. Not that he cared. They were the reason for his silence, anyways. His sister, though… How was she? She was the kindest out of them all. The thought of her shimmering, jet black hair with its bright orange streaks slipped through his mind. Her cherry-red jacket and bell-bottom jeans rustled in the wind of his memories, pairing well with her dark brown eyes.
Keiko…
Hikaru remembered her telling him the story of how he was named. Keiko was only ten years of age, peering around the beige walls of the hospital as the rest of the family fought over what he should be named. “ヒカルって名前にしようかな!” She had piped up. 

We should name him Hikaru!

No one else had a better idea, not caring too much. Everyone was so busy being angry with his mother for having another child.
“1つでは足りないですか?” They had asked her.

Is one not enough?
Maybe that’s why his mother never treated him right. She was like a mirror, reflecting any awful things the rest of the family said right to Hikaru. Keiko always comforted him though. And now they were all gone. A chirp reeled him back into reality from his lake of thoughts. There was one living thing they’d left behind. The family bird. Aki. Aki was a colorful little parakeet, sporting reds and oranges. Just like Keiko. She also liked to stay quiet, for the most part. Just like Hikaru. The two siblings loved Aki dearly, always worrying about her when they had to leave for too long or when they had to take her to the vet. But she was a clever girl. She knew how to hold her own. She was an embodiment of the siblings, after all. She’d flown after Hikaru when going into hiding from the bombs, carrying a gas mask. “良い子.” He’d commented.
Good girl.
And here she was now, seeming to be immune to the radiation around. She showed no signs of sickness. It was quite peculiar, really. She chirped at him again from her perch upon his shoulder, trying to catch his attention. “それは何ですか?” He asked, tilting his head in curiosity as he did his best to see through the tinted eye-holes of his gasmask. His brown, leather jacket slightly shone in the orange light filtering through the clouds above and his black jeans shifted, the tucked in bits straining against his sturdy boots. His gloves tightened their grip on his bag.
What is it?
Aki flapped off his shoulder, towards the building they both faced now. The Sumida aquarium. It wasn’t bound to be something people would crawl to in the case of scavenging, but that didn’t mean they’d be alone. There was a chance of others being there… Aki was already past the doorway, however. “アキ! 待ってください!” He called.
Aki! Wait up!
He repositioned his backpack and duffle bag, running after the clever parakeet. He hadn’t been to the aquarium in years. How had it fared? He was surprised to find that it hadn’t changed that much. The bombs had dropped near Chiba, rendering many reinforced glass structures and cages to stay intact in Tokyo, leaving the aquarium to stay majestic. But water supplies were polluted with radiation. And that showed quite quickly. The fish had horrible mutations, rather that be an extra limb, another eye, disheveled flesh, or a massive increase in size, it was terrifying. Giant jellyfish glowed a sickly green in their tanks, bumping into each other from the lack of space. Tangled heaps of anchovies struggled across the pale, shimmering sands of the larger spaces, dodging two-tailed sharks with more teeth than usual. Alas, even though it was terrifying, Hikaru and Aki were able to find supplies. He shoved a handful of granola bars into his duffle bag, making sure every dull-yellow wrapper was intact and unopened as Aki flapped over with a roll of tape in her beak. “それは役に立つでしょう...” He said.
That’ll be useful…
He carefully slid that into his backpack before hoisting it back over his shoulders and zipping the duffle bag back up, turning around. One of the largest tanks in the aquarium stood before him, containing a freakshow of fish of all different types. Saltwater sardines and freshwater finescale daces. Some of the creatures might’ve broken in accidentally, and simply adapted to survive. Just like Hikaru and Aki. They adapted. Humans weren’t that different from the wildlife around them, were they? The blue-green glow that rained down on him struck the keys of his memory as he gazed up, Aki cooing as she flapped onto his shoulder. It was morbidly peaceful. How wonderful… “おい!”
Hikaru whipped around with a gasp. Dirt masks. That’s what a clean scavenger like him would call them. It was a large group of people, all sporting a deadly assortment of weapons and broken masks. The radiation made them stronger. But they were still bullies, only picking on those who were smaller and weaker than them. “君みたいなきれいな子がここで何をしているの？私たちが最初にここにいました!” They snapped like dogs, snarling and ready to lunge.
What’s a clean boy like you doing here? We were here first!
“それがなぜ重要なのでしょうか?” Hikaru replied in his usual calm manner.
Why does that matter, exactly?

“早い者勝ちです。さあ、出て行け。”
First come, first served. Now get out.
He held his ground, head swiveling to get a look at them all. Aki squawked at something behind him. “それは何ですか、お嬢さん?” He whispered in question.
What is it, girl?
A few gasps and murmurs rose from the Dirt masks at the sight of the creature in the tank. The best description would be a beast. It was a massive arapaima with powerful-looking legs, having grown in from the radiation. Its dark, dull brown scales were counteracted against by the vibrant red and orange colors lining its tail end. The most important thing of all was that he had an opening. And he took it. Hikaru bolted down the nearest hallway, much to the surprise of the Dirt masks, who shouted after him. Aki clung to his shoulder as he scrambled around corners and tumbled up stairs. There was an exit on the second floor, right? He silently prayed there was. He barreled down a hallway, practically screeching to a stop so he wouldn’t ram into the wall before continuing. One of the Dirt masks appeared out of the next hallway. “おい!”
Hikaru froze, his huffing amplified from his gas mask as he stared down the barrel of the gun pointed at him. Why’d it have to go like this? A squawk emanated from his shoulder again. Aki was bent over, eyes fixed above the Dirt mask. Something was getting her worked up. And he froze at the sight of it. A low snarl ricocheted off the hallway walls, stiffening the Dirt mask, who slowly looked up at the beast looming over him. A cut off scream was heard as the arapaima beast tore him apart, razing his bones and tearing him limb from limb in a matter of seconds. It was all so quick. Blood stained the dusty walls, and the gun that was threatening him a second ago was at his feet. He grabbed it, flicking the switch to safety as he slung the gun strap over his shoulder. The arapaima glared him down. But there was no malicious intent in those brown eyes. Only familiarity. Just like Keiko. Protecting him from the awful dangers of the world. He slowly set his gloved hand on its snout. “ありがとう。”
Thank you.
The beast let out a low, guttural grunt in return. Distant shouting disturbed the peace, sending them all to snap their heads in the direction of the stairs. The exit was in sight now. Hikaru quickly walked over, thankful it wasn’t an emergency exit. He looked back at the creature. It stood in mostly the same place, staring after him. Staring at him with those familiar eyes. He looked back through the door, and then back to the arapaima. His bags clattered against him. Aki cawed. The voices grew louder. And he extended a hand.

~☒~

A week had come and gone since the incident at the aquarium. Hikaru vaulted over a stone fence, eyes fixed on the makeshift map in hand. A low snarl followed by a chirp brought his attention to his side. Aki clung to the arapaima, which stared him down with those familiar eyes, silently asking what was next as it clambered over the fence. Hikaru couldn’t give an answer, however. The apocalypse was apparently full of surprises.

Loralai is back on foraging duty. Though, in her words, it’s more of a “foraging sentence”. She huffs, blowing the bright bubblegum strands of hair out of her eyes. She stands, brushing the flecks of dirt and moss from her knees, tucking spindly, brown mushrooms into her satchel.

So what if Head Witch Jade has no confidence in Loralai bonding with a forest spirit and becoming a Green Witch? Bah! She didn’t want to be around stinky herbs and slimy mushrooms all day anyway!

Loralai kicked away a pine cone, frowning at the leafy branches above her. None of the forest spirits ever talked to her, nor showed themselves in her presence. How could she possibly find a familiar when the world seemed to hate her?

Loralai took the small pair of scissors from her satchel, carefully snipping the rosemary and bundling it up with twine, shoving it deep into the pockets of her bag. She only had a few more hours of precious daylight before she needed to return to her village. Surrounded by tall redwood and Douglas fir trees, her village’s cobblestone huts and thatched roofs weave in and around the old bark and wispy leaves and prickly pine needles. Everything in Billowing Willow incorporates the forest; windows are built to accommodate bird nests, berry bushes and food sources for the deer and rabbits are planted religiously around every home and building, and nothing is taken from the forest that cannot be put back, twice the amount.

“Where is all the sage?!” Loralai whined aloud as she kicked more pine cones out of her way. This part of the forest was laden with the spiky seed-bearers, littering the ground and making it a painful experience if stepped on. 

Something bounced off of Loralai’s head, making her look up. A pine cone sped down as she shielded her face, feeling it bounce off her arm and hit the ground with a plock. 

Loralai had a feeling the forest spirits were playing tricks on her again. One time a branch suddenly grew right before her eyes, twisting to plunge its bark fingers through her sleeve. She inspected the sleeve now, the green stitches a shade darker than the shirt.

She raced out from under the tree, leaves rustling as if they were laughing. Loralai heard the rush of water from the stream. Having grown up near the stream, she always felt akin to the pristine waters, the stones at the very bottom tinged with green algae.

Even now, as the forest seemed to quiet as she knelt at the bank, the water seemed to speak to her, the drops a murmur of a long lost memory, the currents below a silent wave of a hand, beckoning her closer.

Look into the waters…

Puzzled, Loralai glanced over her shoulder, eyeing the trees behind her with suspicion. Those mischievous spirits could be whispering in her mind for all she knows!

Drip. Drip. Drip.

She spun back around, glaring down at the stream’s surface. The water had gone almost…milky. Silver sparkles swirled in the water’s current, capturing Loralai’s interest.

A scaly head popped out of the milky mixture, and Loralai shrieked. She scrambled up the rocky beach, stopping when the voice whispered.

“Loralai…” 

She could see it now. Even from a distance, the head poking out of the water was that of a koi fish, its orange scales gleaming in the feverish rays of sun through the canopy above. 

“Come closer…”

“Why? Who are you–what are you?” Loralai’s heart raced, palms sweating, but she shifted closer to the talking koi. Hesitation skittered under her skin, but curiosity shackled it down and pushed her forward, to the edge of the water, and she knelt before the koi.

“The current flows through you,” the koi began, a voice of velvet. “A thunderstorm for a heart. Such a perfect balance.”

“What does that mean?” 

“You, Loralai of Billowing Willow, will become a wondrous Water Witch.”

“WHAT?!” Loralai was baffled, to say the least. She was no Water Witch! Her parents were both Green Witches, how could she possibly be a Water Witch?

“Calm, Loralai. I will guide you.” The koi fish jumped from the water, floating in the air in front of Loralai’s face. Realization dawned on her then.

“A water spirit. A water spirit!” Pure joy buzzed through her veins. She had bonded with a spirit!

“Your courage and perseverance led me to you. So long I have slumbered, awaiting the right human to bond with.” The koi flicked its tail fin, as if shaking off the remnants of a long slumber. “Please, hold out your arm.”

Loralai did as she was told, the adrenaline of bonding a spirit making her giddy. The koi spirit flew higher into the air, then dived, straight into Loralai’s forearm. Her body rippled, the surface of her skin glassy. She could see the koi fish moving, a flash of its orange scales here and there.

As her skin went opaque, she gasped. Silvery images of waves and rain traced her arm, beginning at her shoulder and stopping at her wrist.

“It is done. If you ever need my guidance, simply call for me,” The koi spirit said in Loralai’s mind. 

Still in awe, she raced through the trees, her foraging long forgotten. But who cared? She needed to tell Head Witch Jade and her parents that she was no longer without magic.

She was a Water Witch!