Prose

Dear Johnny

by: Mollie Callahan

Dear Johnny,

I really want to express my feelings just the way you did, my love. I started to catch feelings for you when you expressed your feelings to me, and I love the way you talk to me, the way you look at me, the way you dress, and finally the way your eyes sparkle in the light. It reminds me of a shooting star, and you know what a shooting star means: it means to make a wish, and I wish that you are mine.

My love, I wish I could see you--it's so lonely in my castle. The evil angels are keeping us apart. I need you to come and rescue me, my prince. I don't know what I'm going to do without you. Please hurry! I need you--I want you, my love. Our love is so strong--nothing will keep us apart. We will ride to the sunset on your horse, my knight and shining armor. The way you laid down by my grave, just for everyone to see. That even by death, we will never be a part. I see you in my dreams, my love. We are meant to be together--I see us together. You remind me of the sun! When I see you, you make me melt because you are so hot and holy with your holy spirit. Everyone does not want us to be together, but who cares? Being without you is a nightmare. What am I supposed to do with my Johnny? In the end, we will lay down to rest forever, a match made in heaven.

Delusion

by: Aliyoow Ali

A tale of Wyatt, a chef in Beijing, China

Wyatt opens his eyes slowly sitting up. Exhausted hearing the clicks of pots and pans in the kitchen as he gets up, heading towards the bathroom. 

Wyatt: “Hi Honey.” 

Sarah: “Hi Hubby! Breakfast is almost ready!!!” 

He happily sighs as he brushes his teeth. finishing up he heard silence before walking into the dining room

Sarah: “I made your favorite! Eggs!”

Wyatt: “That’s not my favorite, that's the only thing you know how to make hon.” 

He sits down as Sarah says 

Sarah: “Shut up and eat your breakfast already, you’re gonna be late for work.” 

Wyatt scarfs down his eggs quite easily 

Sarah: “You eat like a pig.” 

Wyatt: “You married a pig.”

Sarah: “Ha, Ha.”  Sarcastically

Wyatt: “See you later, I love you Sarah.”

Sarah: “You’re so weird sometimes. Love you too.” 

Sarah said blushing and chuckling.  

He grabbed his wallet & keys in a rush. Leaving the condo pressing down on the elevator door, rushing off. 

Standing in the elevator before walking out the building. Step by step following a steady beat, thinking about his wife’s laugh each step of the way. Before arriving at the metro and taking a train straight to King’s Joy. A famous Michelin star restaurant  he was an assistant chef in. 

Koai: “You’re late Wyatt!! Get your damn apron on and tend to station 6!!”

Wyatt: “Yes Chef! Sorry Chef!!” 

He puts his hairnet & apron on before reaching the sixth station. He immediately grabbed a chopping board and a knife.

Mlia & Emu: “Man where have you been!”, “Koai has been on our ass just because you were late!”

Wyatt: “My bad, woke up late.”

Emu: “Again man?”

Mlia: “You really got to meet a therapist before you go insane Wyatt.”

Wyatt: “Waste of money, just for losing some sleep? Not worth it.”

Mlia & Emu stop for a second looking at each other, concerned.. before Koai sees and sighs

Koai: “Back to work guys, we have orders coming in.” A depressing tone

They continued to cook. Handling orders left and right. 

Mlia: “Dumplings!”

Kaoi: “Emu!”

Emu: “Yes Chef!”

Kaoi: “Wyatt! Prep the A-5!”

Wyatt: “Yes Chef!”

This went on until closing time, when Wyatt was tasked with busboy work, due to being the last one to arrive at work. But this time something odd happened. Kaoi started to help out with the dishes. As the head chef he’d never help with meaningless tasks, he’d usually go straight home and do what he usually does. Which funny enough no one knew about. Emu & Mlia also decide to help out, to speed up the process of course.

Wyatt: “Thank you guys.”

he bows before koai says 

Koai: “How’s the ****?”

Emu & Mlia: “Koai!!” 

Wyatt: “Huh? I couldn’t hear that. Could you repeat it”

Emu: “Uh….”

Mlia:  “Dude…..”

Koai: “I said how's your ****”

Wyatt: “What?” He says Confused

Koai stares as all their expressions deepen, staring at their friend, terror slowly setting.

Wyatt: “What!” (While lightly chuckling) “Is this a joke?” A light smile on his face. 

Koai, furious says 

Koai: “You’re taking the week off.”

Wyatt: “What?! Why-”

Koai: “Don’t come back until you find help Wyatt.”

Koai, in a fury, grabbing his coat & keys before leaving.

Emu & Mlia also leave, worried about Wyatt. 

Wyatt on his way home thought about his situation. He felt hungry for some reason. But he ate his breakfast & a light lunch at work.

Wyatt: “Hm, I wonder what Sarah will make this time. She’s gonna be mad at me when I tell her I got put on leave.”

Wyatt sat down on the empty metro as it gently skidded across the streets of Beijing, before making a stop at his apartment complex. Entering his apartment it was completely silent before he took a seat on the couch Sarah jumped down onto the couch next to him. 

Sarah: “Hey baby”

Wyatt: “Hey Sarah. How’s your day been?”

Sarah: “Pretty boring, just stayed home today. You?”

Wyatt: “Got put on temporary leave.”

Sarah: “How long?”

Wyatt: “About a week.”

Sarah: “That ain’t too bad. Get to spend time with my hubby, even go on a walk with him.”

Wyatt: “That sounds nice. You have been a little cooped up in here haven’t you. But i'm starving.”

Sarah: “You can get something on the way.”

Wyatt: “funny.”

They both chuckle. Sarah rushes off to grab her coat whilst Wyatt follows in suit. 

Wyatt grabs his keys, as both him and Sarah walk down the streets of Beijing. 

Wyatt and Sarah walked in silence. She held onto his arm, every once in a while he’d forget she’d be there & look for a quick second, she'd be smiling & staring at him.

Stopping by a tanghulu vendor.

Wyatt: “Two please.”

The vendor only stared at Wyatt, not even noticing Sarah, Wyatt paid & got the candy before the both of them walked away. 

They reach an empty park as Wyatt sits down. Sarah sat next to him, they bundled up chuckling under the cold.

Sarah: “why’d we stop here? Tired?”

Wyatt: “I don’t feel tired.. I don’t know why but I felt like I had to stop here. It’s weird right?” He takes a bite of his candy

Sarah: “So weird!” Sarah laughs as they lean into the bench getting comfy.

Wyatt: “Here’s your tanghulu.” He passes her the candy and close his eyes to take a bite of his own. 

Wyatt slowly starts to feel a light sting of salt in his nose before he tears up. 

Sarah: “Wyatt..”

Wyatt: “Yeah?”

Sarah: “Why are you crying?”

Wyatt: “Huh.. look at that. I am crying.” he chuckles before tearing up, light sobs grabbing his tears. Staring at the ground, the tanghulu laying there in the snow as the sun slowly sets. 

Sarah: “Wyatt…”

Wyatt: “Sarah… Sarah…. sarah.” 

His eyes close tightly as his voice slowly dies down. 

A loud gust of wind blows over the audio, when it stops a second of silence before blossoms fall and Wyatt stares at Sarah. The camera pans and it's her shrine, the candles lightly illuminating her photo as the camera focuses on one cherry blossom as it slowly falls, landing on the candle, burning it up. 

“Hello? Sir, are you ok?” As the music comes to a halting stop, Wyatt breathes again.

“I-I’m fine, thank you.” With a bow Wyatt left the park, going home. 

Wyatt unlocked his door and walked on, turning on the kitchen light and throwing on his apron. “Sarah…. Do you want anything to eat?” He slowly groveled as he sniffled and chuckled.

“Some fried rice would do me nice, H-o-n-e-y.” As the words slowly flew out her mouth, the music intensified and then three clicks of the stove before it ignited. 

Fallen Crown

by: Avery Rain

The scattering of a cockroach's feet echoes off the tall bars of the cell, a humid stench of sewer water sticks to the walls, and only candlelight drapes the room. 

“Howdy. Yoo-hoo, howdy, cowboy,” the tall fox-like creature says to the sleeping man in front of him. The creature is unclothed with just an empty arrow holster on his back. Ignored, he turns away and resumes his squatting position on the stone bench, his orange and white paws draping the edge. The other man sports a full western get-up, covered in golden stars, sitting with his feet up and a felt ridgetop shrouding his face. Other than an occasional stir, to adjust his bolo, he stays still.

“C’mon,” the woman near the cell door says, frustrated. She towers over the others with curvaceously thick legs, covered with a long satin toga with golden sandals. Her brown skin shimmers, even in the dingy lighting. “Oh, give it up, if I can’t find a way out, no one can.” Says the gilded man on her right. He’s short with a slight gut, almost like a bell with a face. “At least I’m still trying to get out, you idiots are just sitting there.” She slumps on the bench next to the fox, crossing her arms.

“Hey, man, don’t blame me for getting us caught, this guy just had to go back and grab his crown in the middle of being chased.” The canine says. Their conversation is cut short by the piercing creak of a steel door opposite their cell. The napping man gains consciousness, his hat smacking the ground as he looks up. The fox reaches for his back, quickly realizing his arrows were taken and sprinkled on the moldy floor when they were imprisoned. A cloaked figure enters slowly, just out of the candlelight’s view.

“Well if it isn’t the underlings of Navi Patashnik, I’m surprised you made it so far before our guards apprehended you. We have an interesting bunch today, don’t we? How about you go around and introduce yourselves, starting with you, cowboy.” Says the figure. Silence fills the room as the fox bellows.

“Sorry, dude, he doesn’t really talk much.”

“Well, isn’t that a shame? I guess I’ll have to find out for myself.” The man says, snarling. He pulls a small device from behind his cloak and steps into the light. As the figure’s grey skin is illuminated, the group leans in for a better look. He holds the gadget between the cell bars and a bright green light envelopes the cowboy’s face. 

The scanner beeps for a moment before the light goes away and a robotic voice says, “Samuel Rangeport, Codename: Sheriff. Wanted for robbery and treason. Bounty: ten million credits. Known associates: none.”

“Ahh, a lone wolf and an expensive one at that, interesting.” The figure pauses before continuing. “And you, the hybrid, should I scan you, or are you gonna tell me who you are?”

“Well, I’m Fenn, or Fennster, or Fenntastic, or—”

“Okay. I get it, and what’s your bounty?” The man says, annoyed.

“Last time I checked, it was twenty,” Fenn replies.

“Million?” The figure asks, surprised.

“No, hundred.” The man’s brow furrows.

“Twenty hundre— do you mean two thousand?”

“Sure, man, whatever floats your boat,” Fenn says.

“Next?” The figure prompts, removing his pencil-length fingers from the bridge of his nose.

“Well, if you mean me, I’m not telling you who I am before you tell us who you are, Creep,” the woman in the corner responds.

“Oh how rude of me, I’ll introduce myself. I’m Latrice, head advisor of the Cameryn Regime and it is my duty to find out what trash like you are doing in Her Majesty’s palace, snooping around,” Latrice says.

“Well, it sounds like you know what we were doing, and you’ll have to use that doohickey if you want to get any information out of me,” she says.

“All right, you prefer the hard way, Miss. Let’s see.” 

After scanning, the robot digitizes, “Andrea Granaldi, princess of Santa Loba, turned warrior of the royal guard, exiled after becoming a rogue agent. Bounty: zero credits.”

“The princess of our sister kingdom? You must be out on your luck, I presume you seek money,” Latrice says as he turns to the polished man to her right, “but you King Throudious, or should I say ex-king. Do you seek revenge on Ruler Cameryn, or have you already spent the fortune you were left with?”

“What I’m here for doesn’t concern you, Matrice,” the king says with crossed arms and an eyebrow raised, “all I care about is punishing your sorry ass for putting me in such a disgusting environment.”

“You may want to think twice before threatening me, Your Highness,” Latrice says, grabbing the baton on the desk next to him and switching it on to reveal the buzzing electric rod on the end, “I’ve got a trick or two up my sleeve if you choose to be defiant.” Before Latrice can continue, another cloaked figure enters the room, slightly, and begins to whisper in his ear. Luckily, Fenn can faintly hear what the figure tells him before the two exit. Latrice steps out of the room, excusing himself as he leaves. Tension befalls the group as they collectively let their guards down, some more than others.

“There’s an emergency on the shipping dock, dude, he’s gotta go sort that out. It was something about an inspector not showing up,” Fenn says. Andrea continues looking for a possible exit when she notices Sheriff resuming his sleeping position in the corner.

“Are you kidding me, Rangeport, get your ass up and help us get out before I make you,” She says.

“Well, if you're offering, I choose the second option, Ma’am,” He responds, in a smooth southern tone. She leaps at him, going for his neck before Fenn and Throudious grab her by the waist and just barely restrain her.

“Okay— jeez, I’ll help,” the cowboy quickly says, seeming quite rattled. He jumps out of his seat and shuffles to the nearby wall, tracing his hands on them in search of weak points.

“That’s more like it, now come on we have to find a way out of here,” Andrea says, again.

Just as their voices subside, a quiet buzzing fills the air. A fly darts passed the cell and through the lock on its door.

“Quickly, you must run before Latrice returns, there is no time to explain,” a high-pitched voice says.

“What the— is that the fly?” Fenn asks, looking distraught. Just as fast as the fly disappears, the cell door screeches open and the prisoners stumble out.

“Oh thank god,” Andrea breathes, “I was really running out of ideas.” They quickly grab their respective weapons, still shaken from the odd escape, and sprint to the door, right of their cell.

The sewage water burns their eyes as the group passes through the exit.

“God, this city ain’t what it used to be,” says Throudious.

“We’re in the sewer, Dude,” Fenn replies.

“Uh, yeah, I know,” says the king. He did not know.

“Okay, Sassy,” Fenn says. Throudious scoffs, turning to lead the group to an exit. After a few minutes of walking, the four of them come upon a skinny ladder that goes up to what looks like the underside of a manhole cover. Proud of his directional prowess, Throudious grins widely at the rest of the group. 

Unimpressed, Andrea snaps, “Wipe that smile off your face and hoist me up there.” The men look at each other before turning back to Andrea looking confused, “God, I don’t care who, just one of you give me a boost.”

As she goes for the ladder, Fenn crouches in front of her, offering a step with his knee.

“Aw, did you have to wear those sandals,” he winces slightly as the heel digs into his fur.

“Would you rather I wore stilettos? Now get up here,” she says, offering a hand. The four climb up the twenty, or so, foot ladder before Andrea busts the cover off of the hole, with ease. The fly is heard again after the group exits the sewer.

“Quickly, this way, they mustn't see us leave.” The group follows the small bug through a passage of trees near the manhole. “Come, come— through here,” he says. The group passes through the greenery, opening their eyes to see the overcrowded, filthy city before them.

“I’m sorry for correcting you, King Dude, I can see how you confused the sewer with this city,” Fenn says, adjusting his arrow sling. The fly’s voice rings out once more,

“This is as far as I’ll go, you’re on your own from here, stay concealed and meet Navi at her docks before midnight.”

“Ohh, you’re with Navi, I get it,” Fenn says, making an O with his furry mouth.

“Yeah, who else would save us, Fenn?” Andrea says, “Okay just follow me guys, let's escape through the crowd and get to the docks.”

“No, follow me, I know this city better than anyone,” King Throudious says.

“I don’t care who leads, just get us out of these bushes, I’m being poked in places that I don’t appreciate,” Andrea says. The king leads them through the crowd pushing his way up the stairs to the Cameryn Docks. As they come upon a large attack ship any sense of humor leaves the air.

“What do we do?” Fenn asks as his fur trembles.

“I say we split up, cover all our bases,” Sheriff says.

“Oh, look who decided to chime in,” Andrea says, “and you think we should walk through the streets looking like this?” Throudious looks around, his eyes meeting each mercenary's clothing. Sheriff’s glimmering stars, Andrea’s Greek garb, the 7-foot-tall naked fox creature who’s coated in hair. How would they go unnoticed? He quickly glances around, his gaze finding a pile of empty fish containers, wrapped in sheets, tattooed with guts and water.

“Those,” he says, confidently. Andrea seems nauseated by the thought.

“Those?” she clarifies, “No.”

“Oh don't get proud now princess, it's a sacrifice for us all, especially me and my luscious hair,” says Throudious as he whips his remaining strands back.

“Um. Sure man,” Fenn says, looking perplexed and noticing the glimmer of the man's empty scalp.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” she pauses, “but fine. For the good of the mission.” After a minute of deliberation, Andrea continues. “Okay, here’s the plan, Throudious and I will cross through the shipyard acting as lowly personnel, we can create a diversion while you two” she points to Fenn and Sheriff, “gain access to the ship, acting as inspectors. They said that one was late, right? Lead with that. Once you get access, Sheriff, you keep the maintenance guy distracted upstairs, and Fenn, listen to me very closely, the back room of the basement should have some sort of a water pump. Turn the lever partially to sink the ship, with time to get yourself out. If they follow us out of here, in that boat, we have no chance of making it to the docks. We’re counting on you.” As everyone agrees, she finishes, “Look out for one another, ok? This is our last chance.”

Sheriff leads the way as he and Fenn climb the shipyard ramps. They come upon the target as Sheriff turns to Fenn.

“I’ll do the talking, Partner,” he says, “just follow my lead.” Just as the two reach the ship, they hear someone yell from behind them.

“Hey. What do you think you’re doing?” The voice says, spooking the men.

“Oh. Pleased to meet your acquaintance, I’m She— ron. Sharon. My name is Sharon.”

Sheriff stutters out.

“Okay? And why are you in the queen’s royal dock?” He asks. 

“We are the maintenance guy. Guys,” Sheriff says, “hear to inspect the ship.”

“Hmm,” the man thinks for a moment, “well, if you're lying, I'll find and skin you. Anyway, let's go.” Closing his slack jaw, Sheriff pulls Fenn as they walk behind the man. They climb the skinny bridge, crossing the twenty-foot drop below them.

“Okay well, I can check up here, and my associate can check downstairs. Since we were so late, we wouldn’t want to waste any extra time,” Sheriff says.

“Yes well, that could work i—” Before the man can end his response, Fenn swooshes by and quickly climbs downstairs.

“Well I guess we’re on our own, let’s check the fuel gauge,” when they move in that direction, a crash is heard downstairs.

“Is your friend okay down there, Sharon?” The bearded man asks. “Maybe we should check—”

“He’s fine. Let's focus on the matter at hand. The fuel gauge. Where d—” Another crash.

“Are you sure? That one sounded like glass,” the man reiterates.

“Okay, I’ll give him a call and if he doesn’t respond, he’s fine,”

“Well, wouldn’t it be the opposite?”

“You okay down there?” Sheriff calls. He’s answered with another bang.

“That’s it, I’m going to see what’s going on,” The man moves to the edge of the boat, gripping the stair railing. Just as he takes his first step, an explosion is heard a few boats away. When the man stops to turn around, Sheriff barrels towards him.

“Wait—” He says, not stopping his momentum. With a stark shove, the cowboy ejects his thick body over the edge. A pause in the air is met with the leftover ringing from the blast. “Well, you should have shown me where the fuel gauge was,” he says, looking over the side, with nothing looking back. Covered in a layer of darkness, Fenn looks behind himself, seeing the mess he has left, while trying to find the water pump.

“Oh. The back room. Must be in the back,” Fenn nods to himself while trekking there. The floor creaks and cracks as Fenn moves. He comes upon the back room, hearing a scream before a distant splash flies past his ear. Brushing past the unusual noise, he continues through the wooden door. The room is mainly empty except for the obvious red lever and sign reading “DON’T TURN.” Fenn approaches it slowly, not looking away from the bright handle. He grips it without thought and pushes down slowly, until the object clicks, no longer moving. After the lever stops, Fenn removes his paw and scratches his head with a squint. His pursed lips open, “turn the lever slightly with enough time to get out?” He quotes Andrea’s warning, “Why would I need time to get out–” A burst of heavy liquid socks him in the jaw, pushing his eyes closed and his torso away. His body flailing, fighting for the surface, reaches up for any sign of air. Eventually, his prayers are met with a cool breeze on his fingertips, the consistency aiding relief. With a leap, his head begins to bob above the water. As his eyes blink open, he shakes the moisture off of his face and attempts to orient himself. Luckily the small under cabin was filling fast enough to push him forward, toward the rising water, and subsequent exit. Reaching out, Fenn is able to climb the half-dry ladder and pop his body out of the hole to see a pacing Sheriff. “Come on man we gotta go,” Fenn trails off, looking behind himself to see the water crawling past the hole he came out of.

“I just, I’ve been waiting for you, you had me worried sick, I can’t even—” Sheriff is cut off by another, more close-by detonation. Out of nowhere, the sound is met with two voices getting closer.

“Guys, we need to go now,” the feminine voice calls. As fast as it dissipates, Andrea’s shimmering, now from sweat, body passes their boat's dock. The two are quick to match her pace, sprinting away while hearing a climbing stampede getting louder from behind. They catch up to her, now seeing Throudious on her heels.

“Come this way, I’ve hidden an escape raft through this passage,” Throudious says as they get off the dock. They continue hastily until they come upon a large golden yacht behind a set of inconspicuous trees.

“Don’t tell me this is the ‘raft’ you were talking about,” Andrea says.

“Well, they sank the bigger one when they stole my kingdom,” the king responds.

“Quit the jibber-jabber, a-lets go,” Fenn says. Offering his hand, the king hurries the group onto the boat. As the propeller warms up, it clicks with haste. Throudious pulls down on the throttles anxiously, as if he hadn’t used the boat for his shark diving lesson, two-weeks before. The boat begins moving as Sheriff looks over the yacht’s back balcony. The distant footsteps start to sound farther away when he sees an army of scared faces rise above the horizon line behind the boat. Their shared expression clued him in that they had truly escaped, knowing that the queen would have her way with any failures.

“I think we got away,” Sheriff says, finally dropping his southern accent.

“Well yeah, we are on a super yacht,” Andrea says back, in protest. “No, I’m sorry. I need to stop with all the sass. You all really saved me back there and I’m sure I did the same for you, but I still owe you my gratitude.”

“I guess I should say the same, we would have been found out without your distraction back there,” Sheriff says.

“Oh, that was all Throudious, he knew where the booze cellar was and somehow knew how to make a mean Molotov cocktail too,” Andrea says.

As they arrive at the grassy hillside dock, the boat sputters asleep. The group exit the boat in unison while Navi stares at them with an almost pleased look.

“My, my, how much you kids have grown... you too Throudious,” Navi says with a wink.

The sun is still just peaking over the horizon, illuminating her stone face and defined torso. She motions them towards her with a wave. “So the plans, what happened?”

“We’re sorry Navi, we couldn’t find the plans, and by the time we were able to escape it was too late to go back,” Andrea replies.

“Uh oh, this changes a lot for all of us,” Navi sighs, “if that map gets into the wrong hands, it could mean the taking over of thousands of kingdoms, yours included, Andrea.” A somber mood slumps over them before Fenn speaks up.

“Wait. Do you mean this map?” A collective jaw drop takes place before Andrea lifts her hands in a prayer-like motion.

“Oh, My, God, Fenn,” she says, “you had that, the whole time?”

“Yeah, I got it from the bottom room in the boat we sank,” he says.

“Oh, is that why you were down there for so long?” Sheriff asks.

“Wait, you sank a boat,” Navi asks.

“Well, yeah, but they blew up two others,” Fenn responds.

Rain 11

“Wha— uh— ah— okay,” Navi says, with a mix of pride and fear for the future of her mercenaries.

Recovering the Stolen

by: Vahini Narra

Act I

Chapter 1: Possessed, Julia's Perspective

I didn’t believe in the paranormal until that fateful day of June 15, 2016. My best friend Cassie and I were biking down an unfamiliar street. We were both strong and adventurous, and because of that, every day, around five to six, we went biking across ‘uncharted land,’ which were areas of the neighborhood we hadn’t added to our map. We had a large piece of paper that we called, ‘our summer map.’ We hoped to fill it with locations and drawings of our trips. 

We stopped next to a park. The crisp summer breeze cooled our sunburned skin and brought the aroma of honeysuckle. We tilted our bikes against a tree and sat down on the long green grass with a loud thud. Flowers that dotted the area tickled my moist skin. Sweat dripped down our faces and body and our breaths came in gasps that we tried to hide with fake coughing. Neither of us wanted to admit we were tired. I took out the map that I had shoved into my backpack. I smoothed it out and began scribbling our discoveries for the day. 

After a few minutes, I felt Cassie poke me. My hand stumbled, causing an ugly blemish to appear on the paper from my pencil. “Cassie,” I snapped, but before I could scold her she threw her hand over my mouth. I looked to see where her trembling finger was pointing and realized a pale girl was staring at us. Surpassing unnaturally pale, her figure was white. Except for her eyes, they had no color I could describe, only abysses of misery churning inside her undead soul. She was translucent and moved with a startling grace. There was a terrible odor coming from her that dampened the sweet smell of summer. My stomach churned. It was the smell of death.

Cassie vice gripped my arm and bolted, yanking me along. Faster and faster. We were flying now, fleeing away from that girl. We both grabbed our bikes and pedaled, speeding the whole way home.

We turned the familiar bend to our street and collapsed on her driveway. Shivering despite the sun still charring our skin. Cassie and I exchanged glances; there was so much for us to say. But my tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of my mouth. I swallowed hard and said, “Never again. We’re never doing this again.” She nodded, still trembling, and replied in a whisper, “Should we tell?”

I dropped my voice to a whisper as well, not wanting to be heard, “We have to tell someone. Even if they don’t believe us.” My heart was beating painfully. I wanted to scream and sob. I was still terrified. Terrified, those dead eyes would follow me. Terrified, she would reach me. Terrified, she would devour me whole. 

  I didn’t say goodbye to Cassie. I crossed the street and hurried into my house, unable to resist looking back to make sure I wasn't being followed. During dinner, I told my family. My sister laughed until she was almost choking. My parents said I was being ridiculous, that it might’ve been fog, that ghosts aren't real. I looked them all in the eyes, not knowing that they looked surprisingly like that girl’s, holding that same dead, lost look and lied, “I know Mom, Dad, I was just joking.” 

They all nodded, and began to chat, the clicking of silverware and exclamations and praises to my mother for the dishes filling the room. They were all oblivious to my panic. Maybe it was because of the fact that someone was preventing me from showing my panic. wait, I thought, I never said that I was joking. And deep inside my soul, I heard, “Thank you Julia, for unleashing me.” My blood ran cold, but my body simply smiled unnaturally wide,  and joined the laughing and chattering, leaving me trapped in my own mind.

Chapter 2: Suspicions, Cassie's Perspective

The night after the encounter was one of the worst I ever dealt with. Every sound was magnified. Eyes peeked out at me from deep in my closet. The darkness suffocated me. My terror was broken every few hours with fitful sleep. But once I jolted awake, I was back in the state of paralyzing fear. I watched as the sun slowly climbed up the sky and finally lit up the now bright blue sky. I was scared I’d deal with this kind of sleep forever, but I forced it out of my mind and got ready for the day.

Sunlight streamed through the open window, sparkling cheerfully. That didn’t fool me. The sun looked just as innocent yesterday. Danger could be lurking, masked by the golden light. My eyes scanned my front yard nervously, searching for anything out of the ordinary. I found nothing. The emerald green grass waved back and forth, calling me outside.

I sighed, preparing myself. I was leaving the safety of my home, and I was going outside. I needed to visit Jules. The swiftly spoken words between us before her departure weren’t enough. We needed to have a proper conversation. Both of our parents thought we were too young for phones, so calling wasn’t an option. 

“Mom, I’m going to Jules’s,” I yelled. “Okay, Cassie,” she said, walking into the living room, “but return by three.” I nodded and set off. I opened the door and felt a lurch of panic that made me start running. I got deja vu from the sprint away from that girl. My heart beat went up and I started to shake. I stumbled up the porch steps and knocked loudly until Jules opened the door and smiled. “Hello, Cassandra.” 

“Cassandra?” I asked. Her smile got wider, until I was getting a little frightened. “Sorry, Cas.” I was so shocked that I stared at her, open-mouthed. “You called me Cassie for the last seven years, Jules!” Her mouth was stretched to the limit. “Cassie, I was kidding!” She laughed, it sounded robotic and was a higher pitch than her normal laugh. Was she traumatized? I walked into her house, and said, “Jules, we need to talk about what happened.” She stared at me. “What happened?” I grabbed her shoulders and shook her.  

“The ghost Jules! The ghost! Why are you acting so weird?” She rolled her eyes at me. ”Cassie, it was foggy. And ghosts aren’t real. We obviously got scared and overreacted.” At this point I was getting really upset because of her denial. She ushered me upstairs, and into her room, still grinning like a clown. “Relax, Cassie, relax.” As we made small talk I noticed how strange she acted. So much so that when she went to the bathroom, I ran downstairs to talk to her mom. 

She was reading on the couch with coffee in one hand and a thick book with the title, Pride and Prejudice, in the other. “Ms. Garcia,” I said. She looked at me. “Yes, Cassie?” I didn’t know how to phrase what I wanted to say politely. “Is Jules acting a little differently than normal?” She frowned. “Yes, I noticed her acting strange. I think it’s just a phase. No need to worry, dear.” I wondered whether I should tell her about the ghost. There was nothing to lose. “I think it may have to do with a ghost. Her actions, I mean. A girl, long hair, creepy eyes. I know it sounds bizarre, but I’m completely sure.” Before I could go on, I noticed Ms. Garcia looked thunderstruck and I stopped talking. 

”No,” Ms. Garcia whispered, “No, it was so long ago, how can it be?” I froze, thrown off by this strange reaction. But as the words sunk in, I stumbled backward, shocked. She knew something about this. “I need to go,” I told her, backing away. “Cassie, wait,” she pleaded. “No, I have this thing, no, I just need to go.” Her crushed expression made me want to stay, but I continued toward the door. Whatever was going on was bigger than what I’d originally thought. It had a link to Jules, Ms. Garcia, a ghost, and apparently the past. And I wasn’t sure if I wanted to be tangled up in something that I knew a minuscule amount about.

I stumbled out the door and hurried over to the sidewalk, beginning to wander, having no idea where I was going. My thoughts were going so fast that I felt like I needed to overtake their speed physically, maybe then the voices would stop clamoring to take space in my head. Jules is my best friend, but what’s happening? I want to help her, but I can’t get myself in danger! Two voices argued viciously in my mind. But the one defending Jules won. I took a breath to calm myself down, and whispered, “Whatever happens, I’ll stay by you Jules.” I ran back home, taking deep breaths. I didn’t even care when my Mom shouted at me for being two hours late. 

Chapter 3: Searching for Answers, Cassie's Perspective

After a few days of processing everything, I decided that I was ready to try and contact Ms. Garcia about what happened. I was struck with an idea on how to during breakfast, when I looked at the calendar stuck to the fridge. Today was Wednesday. I didn’t have anything planned, but Jules had a swim meet. She would be out of the house for at least two hours. That meant I couldn’t hang out with her. Oh wait, she was acting funny, I wouldn’t have gone even if she was free. Or maybe I would’ve, and snuck away to talk to Ms. Garcia. I bolted upright. Wait, I could go to Jules’s house when she wasn’t there, then I could talk to Ms. Garcia about why Jules was like this! Clearly she had an explanation, along with a connection with the past!

I spun around to look at my mom. She looked up from her phone and said, “What’s up Cassie?” I was about to ask for permission to leave when a thought suddenly occurred to me. Would Ms. Garcia be ready to see me after my disrespectful response to her words? I was being rude again by not acknowledging the fact that I did something wrong. I wasn’t just going to beg for answers, I was going to beg for her forgiveness. I asked, “Could I go to Jules’s house today?” Mom frowned. “She’s at a swim meet, right?” I didn’t take into account that my mom would know about Jules’s whereabouts. I improvised, “Er, yeah, normally, but it got cancelled today, because, er, the coach is sick.” She rolled her eyes. “And how would you know that, Cassie?” This time I had a convincing excuse. “She told me last week.”

She looked slightly suspicious but replied, “alright.” I got out of my chair and was ready to go and change when mom said, “finish eating first.” I huffed, annoyed, but sat down and scarfed the remaining buttered toast that was on my plate. I dashed up the stairs, feeling slightly nauseous from the quick movement. On instinct I wore the hoodie that Jules had bought me for my Thirteenth birthday, feeling a twinge of sadness when I realized that Jules wouldn’t run over and tell me how my fashion taste was exquisite, which was the only reason I wore it. I changed and walked over to the front door where mom was waiting for me. 

I was about to open the door when mom took my hand, stopping me. “Hey, Cassie, before you go, has something been bothering you?” I ignored the urge to cry and tell her the events that occurred the last couple of days. She would think I’m delusional if I said anything about what was happening. “No.” She sighed and replied, “You’ll tell me when you're ready, I suppose.” Before I could answer, she hugged me and said. “You better not be late again, young lady.” I nodded, smiled at her, and walked out the door. 

By the time I made it to Jules’s doorstep, the slight nervousness I felt escalated into mild stomach pain. I didn’t know what to expect, but I knew what to do. I rang the doorbell, feeling beads of sweat drip down my arms despite the cool breeze masking Summer’s heat. Ms. Garcia opened the door, the look of relief on her face cooling my anxiety. “I hoped you would come, Cassie.” I nodded and said, “I’m sorry for leaving like that, Ms. Garcia, it was really rude.” The smile she wore faltered. “No, Cassie, I should be the one apologizing, I’m sorry I scared you like that.” I smiled back at her and walked in, slipping my shoes off and sitting opposite of her on the parallel couch. 

We both didn’t know what to say, leaving us in an awkward silence. I said, “Ms. Garcia, I came here for answers, and I really hope that you’d be willing to elaborate on what you said when I was last at your house. I apologize if I’m overstepping, I don’t mean any offense, my curiosity is overwhelming any sense of whether what I’m asking is acceptable.” She replied, “You’re not overstepping at all, my dear. I intend to tell everything I know about what is happening, I do hope you’ll hear me out. I am positive that what I’m saying is true. I know my words will sound absurd, but you’re open minded Cassie, I hope you’ll believe me.”

Excitement rose up inside of me.  I would finally be getting the answers that I was craving for the last few days. But the excitement was short-lived. Ms. Garcia looked grim and hesitant, and when I inquired why, the answer shook me to my core. “Cassie, if you learn about this, if I really tell you everything about what’s happening, your life will never be the same. So it’s up to you, are you willing to change your life forever, because if you're not, then I understand. I won’t tell you, I won’t blame you, and you can leave.“ I stared at her, shocked. What was I supposed to say? What was I supposed to do? My world felt like it was collapsing.

Spirit of the Dragon: Chapter 1--The Dream

by: Dysis McCord

Overview of Spirit of the Dragon

Kaida... an introverted, 16 year old girl, finds herself in a world where everyone’s spirit animals aren’t just known, but alive! But unfortunately, the energy force that powers Spiritaga’s spirit animals is fading. Kaida, together with her friends and her spirit animal, the last dragon spirit of a lost drive must find a way to keep the spirits alive!

Chapter 1- The Dream

I woke up, standing on a mountain in a dark night, snow falling from the sky.

”Hello? Is anyone there?”

I shouted out, confused about what was going on, hoping I could get a response, but didn’t get a response, only hearing the cold wind of the mountain top whistling.

I suddenly heard something from behind me.

”Who’s there?!”

I yelled out to the mysterious person, only for them to run away.

”Hey, come back here!”

I cried out and ran towards the mysterious figure.

The snow fell so hard that I couldn’t see the figure running away from me clearly, but I kept on following it until we were on a mountain ledge.

The snow became lighter when I got closer to the figure, so I saw who it was.

It was a wolf, standing majestically on the ledge, its head up to the moon like it was calling for it.

“Hello?”

I said to the wolf. It looked back at me, eyes shining with the moonlight.

“Are you the one who brought me here?” I said, my voice shaking as I asked.

The wolf nodded as it came closer to me. The snow fell even lighter at this point, and I realized that there were other animals with it:  an Arctic fox, a Betta fish, a Black Ant, and a Phoenix.

”Who are you?”

I said, mesmerized and confused on what the animals were doing.

“Is there a reason you all brought me here?”

I said to them all, but I wasn’t expecting to hear what I was gonna hear next. They all circled around me, and said something I had never heard before.

”For your help.” The animals said in unison, startling me.

Startled, I stepped backwards and lost my balance, about to fall onto the snow. I closed my eyes, about to embrace the fall, but I didn’t hear the “Thud!” I was gonna hear. I opened my eyes to see that I was falling into a hole.

I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t find myself to do so. I just looked at the opening of the hole as I fell, deeper and deeper, till I couldn’t see anything but darkness.

“Wake up.”

I heard five faint voices as I fell deeper into the hole growing louder as I fell. 

I saw five fainted lights, glowing brighter and brighter by every second, until it started to light up the darkness like the dawning sun rising. when it started to dim, I then saw six golden animals surrounding me:  a Siberian wolf, a polar bear, a blue-ringed octopus, a dung beetle, a griffin, and a dragon.

Instead of falling, it felt like I was floating.

The dragon leaned closer to me until we were a few inches away from our faces. I lifted my hand towards it. It didn’t hesitate and lunged at it. Its fur was warm like the sun, and I couldn’t help but smile.

After we pulled away from each other, the dragon and the other animals then lunged towards me, going through my body.

I then saw a vision. I saw 6 people standing side by side, each holding a different weapon.

A boy with gray hair and wolf ears holding wolf glow gauntlets, a with white hair and arctic fox ears holding an ice scythe, a girl with light blue hair with betta frills behind her ears and gills on her neck holding a staff, a boy with fire red hair with phoenix wings flying in place holding a bow and arrow, and a girl with dragon horns, tail, and wings with a scar across her eye holding a dragon sword. I didn’t know who the girl in the middle was, but I had a weird feeling that I met her before, no, I KNOW her.

I was confused, why were they showing me this?

“What are you trying to show me?”

Just then, I saw the dragon sword the girl was holding in front of me.

Everything was happening so fast, I couldn’t figure out what was happening, but I had a feeling that something big was gonna happen, and that I had to do something about it.

I reached out my hand to grab the sword. But when I did, everything went dark.

Selfish World  Introduction & Chapter 1

by: Aliyoow Ali

Introduction: 

In a small hospital setting, dim yellowish lights with bustling streets in the background. A faint scream slowly came into view as congratulations were given. A baby was born. 

“What’s his name going to be Mary?” Said Devin. 

She lightly chuckled as if she wasn't drenched in sweat looking at the loud crying baby,

 “His name? Oh.. I haven’t thought about that. How about we name him after my dad, Roger.”, 

 “Roger huh… Our son Roger.”  Mary & Devin chuckled as they swaddled Roger. 

He kept crying regardless. 

The night they brought Roger home a blurry scenery passes as light bulges every once a series of clicks before everything stops and warmth, clear and embracing warmth. 

“He’s oddly quiet for a baby don’t you think?” Said Mary a tad bit concerned,  

“Who cares, its easier for us anyway”  Devin said before grabbing two beers, handing one to Mary.

 “You waiting on a 9 month sobriety chip or what.”,  

“I- uh… guess not. Just not in front of the baby.”,  

“It’s not like the baby knows what beer is..” 

The bulging light slowly wanes as the voices & lights fade.  

The light was back again but it was warmer, as it got too warm. 

”Mary, the baby!”

“His name is Roger!” 

As she picked Roger up she took off the swaddle and just held him. 

He went quiet again, just staring.

“Powerball, Mary!”  Devin said as Mary grabs another quilt, and swaddles the baby as they watch tv in the faint background.

“the numbers are-“, 

“Turn it up!”  Said Mary, excited. Devin turned it up as a low humming noise filled the room.

“The numbers are 6, 18, 16, 27 &.. the power ball, 58! 

That’s this month's powerb-“, 

Devin slams the table as his hand slowly bleeds.

“Goddammit! .. Mary, Where are the bandages”

The sound echoes as colors melt in, night & day, days to months, to years, 1 day at a time multiplied to 1 week at a time. 

Chapter 1:

“Roger!! Get ready for school!”  Yelled Mary as the tv played in the background. 

“it has been 6 years since the-“  Devin shuts off the tv,  “Kiddo, I’m not gonna drive you to school, you better catch that bus.”,

“Ok Dad,”  said Roger, with no excitement in his voice. 

Before Roger heads out Mary stops him and holds his face.  “Have a good day Roger.”

“Ok mom,"  he said without a smile before heading out the door. 

“Devin…. Devin!”  She slaps his arm.

“What??”

“There’s something off with Roger.”

“What do you mean? The kid’s fine! He’s going to school and his teachers say his grades are ok.”

“That’s not what I mean! It’s just… usually other first graders are super happy and energetic. But not Roger.. did we do something wrong as parents?” 

“What do you mean? Do you mean he’s stupid?”

“No! Not- not that. I mean he… doesn’t understand how to be happy.”

“How would the kid--“

“Roger.”

“Sorry. How would Roger not understand happiness? Doesn’t it come with kids or something.”

“No Devin, it doesn’t… How about when he comes home we make him happy, Alright? Do you know what he likes?”

“Um…. He likes walking I guess.”

“You should take him to the mall! Buy him a toy,”  Mary said excited, slapping Devin’s shoulder. 

“Alright alright, I’ll pick him up after school.” 

Devin groans, getting up and heading to the bathroom, he still hasn’t started his day. 

”…oger, Roger!”, 

“Yes?”, 

“Let me repeat then, can you answer the question 4x8?”,

He shakes his head no. 

“Just guess.”

Roger frowned slightly.

“7?”

The class bursts into laughter as the teacher chuckled as the teacher said, 

“No, it's 32. You pay attention Roger.” 

Roger just stared, the frown on his face never left.

At the end of the day ready to get on the bus he sees his dad's car. 

“Roger!”

Roger walks over.

“Hi dad.”,

“Hey Roger, How’s your day?” 

He crouches down seeing Roger's slight frown. 

“It’s nice.”

“You lying to me kiddo?”

Roger nods. “My math teacher doesn’t like me," he said with a straight face. Devin stares and sighs, pats his arm before handing him his jacket.

 “Come on, we’ll go to the mall to cheer you up.”, 

“What about home?”

“Home can wait, kid. Get in.” He opens the passenger side door before hopping in the driver's seat. Roger sits down and buckles his seatbelt. Devin doesn’t. The engine roars as Devin tries to get a jump out of Roger, just a little smirk, that’s it. But nothing. 

“Hey Roger, I never asked you think, what do you like to do?”

“I like walking.”

Devin smiled and chuckled a bit.

“We can walk all you want at the mall, ok?” 

He drives into the parking lot as the loud echoes and slight screeching of the turning tires before the engine sputters out as the key turns. 

“Come on Roger.” 

Roger unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. Following his dad, his tiny shoes squeaked as he ran towards him. The automatic doors slid open, and they both entered. Devin walked with his hands in his pockets, 

“Keep up, Roger.”

They walk to an escalator and Devin sees a bar. 

“Alright kid, here take $30, go buy yourself something, I'm gonna go drink.”

“Ok.” 

His dad walks off as Roger stands there, $30 in his hand, alone into the mall. The dim lights of the constant signs and lighting, walking past it one at a time. Roger liked walking but there was one thing bothering him. 

“What do I do with $30?” Staring around, he walks towards the nearest library.

“Maybe those bricks cost $30.” 

He stared at the library, the place was really quiet, and reminded him of home. When he walked aimlessly the librarian stopped him.

 “Hey kid, the children's section is in the back.”

“Huh? What’s the children section?”

“It…. You don’t know?”

Roger’s face tenses up as a frown starts to form.

“Woah, calm down. I’m not gonna hurt you kid. Look, I’m Emanuel, you can call me Mr. E if that helps.”

Roger was odded out as his frown slowly disappeared.

“My name is Roger.”,

“Nice to meet you Roger. How old are you?”

“I’m 6.”

“Wait, what? You’re six? Which grade?”

“First grade.”

“A six year old in first grade. Alright, answer me this. What is this I’m holding?” 

Emanuel holds up a book and Roger responds: “The secret service kingsman by Mark Miller, Dave Gibbons, and Matthew Vaughn?”

“No, Roger. It’s a book.” 

Emanuel smiles as he sighs. 

“It’s ok Roger, I’m guessing you don’t know what books are, huh?”

Roger slowly moves his head side to side, afraid to say no.

“But you know how to read…. Wait a second…”

Emanuel reads his book cover seeing the tiny and complicated cover to the kingsman.

“How did you read it so fast? You’re six!”,

Roger stared, not knowing what he meant.

“Ok….. Roger how about this.”

Emanuel got up and grabbed a short child’s book, handing it to him.

“Can you read this for me?”

“Ok.”

Roger opens the book and turns the pages one by one.

“Finished.”

“Already? It’s only been 2 minutes. Impressive, you should talk to your teachers about upgrading your reading lev-“.

In the distance Devin is yelling, “Roger!!! Roger!!!!” Roger just gets up and leaves without a word, but he stops and waves bye before walking off.

“Looks half drunk…” Emanuel said, looking at him run off towards Devin. 

 “We’re going home,”  Devin hiccuped as he walked towards the exit, grabbing Roger’s arm. Roger followed Devin, and he let go of his arm. 

“Dad, here’s the $30 back.”

“Good. Now get in the car.” 

He groans sitting down in the driver's seat, squinting hard before starting the engine.  Seatbelt on. Roger leans back as the engine roared them forwards. 

Left and right, Devin wasn't looking too good. “Where’s that goddamn exit.. ughh..” he slowly blinks out before “OH SHIT!!”. 

“Breaking news! Reports say that a car flew out the second story level of the Needlemayer mall..”

The audio slowly falls into the background as Mary shakily holds the home phone in her hand before she drops it. 

The phone said “Devin, Caller not found.” 

The Tale of Telos 

by: Aliyoow Ali

This story starts off in a gladiator ring, sliver walls made of a magnesium based alloy, stadiums filled head to toe with lives galore, one fan yelling, raising their three arms in cheer, another enjoying their Targum, a giant beast roars in its cage, as everyone cheers, the mavoloid king nodding. The cold air hits as it gushes into the tightly sealed room, one tight sharp breath before standing, slowly walking out, everyone slowly building up, while the announcer yells in mavoloid “Here comes the reigning champion! Reigning from Terran itself Solaris!!!” As horns blow the champion slowly walks onto the platform, holding a saber and an abstract object, more like a thorn than a shield. But nonetheless it was meant for defense. The mavoloid announcer states “This challenge will be against the great beast Gronk!! Versus the wimpy champion Solaris!” The royals laugh as the crowd boos, laughs, tossing food and other things. As he closes his eyes then opens them, staring at the glossy helium skies of mavolo. Sighing heavily asking himself “when did I get here”. In English. The gronk becomes furious and dashes at Solaris. The music builds up as the two headed announcer E & C says “Well I’ll be damned!! The furious gronk took the first step! Do you think this’ll be a quick death or a plentiful event for our fellow mavoloids Clyde?!” Said Emmett (the announcer to their second head.) “I have no clue Emmett!!!!” They both maniacally laugh as the ground thunders as gronk, the 46 ft tall beast dashes at Solaris!! Solaris slowly jogs towards the beast, before fully dashing, yelling! A big jump with an unorthodox amount of speed into it, shooting into the beast, jabbing his saber into the gronk! Of course the saber barely scapes its tough exterior! Sliding across its giant back, the champion hangs on and tries to mount the gronk! The gronk, thrashes its huge head left and right, struggling to throw the champ, slowly balancing himself, Solaris glares as he raises his saber, “He’s going for the finishing blow!!” Yelled E&C, the crowd starts to chant “finish it!” Solaris stabs and jams his saber into the gronk. The gronk roars, flinging Solaris into the stands! Before dashing at him in a blind rage. Solaris slams into the protective Helios shield. 

(The scene quickly cuts to an ad) “Prepared for the future Helios is a very versatile, valuable and powerful material made by synthesized helium! And with this even we mavoloids can reach Manios!” Said JFK (Jarbin Flabious Kornma) 

The king raises his hand as the gronk’s shock collar electrocutes it, forcing it to collapse on the ground in front of the injured Solaris. Everyone boos as E&C say “The king is always too easy on Solaris the coward!”, “true that Emmett” said Clyde, shaking his head as Emmett shakes his fist. Solaris stands up, limping towards his door, looking at the royal seats. The mavoloid king glaring at him. The door behind him slams closed as the other gladiators jump up “Solaris!!” Said the famous floral gladiator, kore. “A coward as always” as a brute with four arms smacks his back laughing. “Piss off Thaddeus!” Yelled Solaris. 

Solaris was the prize gladiator of the king, Lividun. Solaris has never technically won a fight. Forced to fight over and over, no one knows why Lividun keep supporting him. Some people think it’s because Terran is lightyears away from mavolo, being an untravelable distance from the solar cluster of pkaro. Technically sanctioned by the interplanetary union, Solaris was given solely to the king of mavolo for many reasons, one main one being a reason to join the interplanetary union. Downside is, he. Isn’t treated as a citizen or a fighter, but an object that lividun owns. Other gladiators get to go home every once in a while, Solaris doesn’t have a home. 

“Don’t take my words to heart, you ran in with the courage of a gladiator, but it would’ve been nice to see your fleshy human body splattered across the arena walls.” Said Thaddeus as he and all the other gladiators cheer, sipping onti. Out of frustration, and pity from the bartender, Solaris gets extra onti that day. After a night of partying he falls backwards and everything turns black.

Currently he is cooling off, in his own private room, a huge Helios coated window, glowing a faint red while it shows the futuristic scenery of mavolo. He lays back, sighing. “Another failed fight.” He tries to get some rest, throwing off his armor, plates of magnesium alloy on his legs, arms and chest. Then his helmet showing his scarred face. He sleeps, as he does the light slowly dims as the door creaks open. Of course being the sensory deprived gladiator he doesn’t notice. A gentle nudge and his eyes shoot open slowly adjusting to the pale skinned human at his bedside. He was the only person with actual skin, let alone the pale white in front of him. He thrashes, shocked and ready to act. The person grabs his shoulders and pushes him down “Solaris, solar- Solaris calm down!! We don’t have time with this! Come with me now!” The figure runs off towards the hall, Solaris in sleepy confusion and curiosity, he follows. Slowly Jogging down the hall trying to keep up with the mysterious man. They stops before saying to Solaris “This way.” They run towards the throne room, which was surprisingly close to Solaris room. “This must be a buffoon.” He thinks to himself, slowing down as he still adjusts from waking up. The person suddenly walks into the wall? With a confused face he rubs his eyes, walking towards the wall he walked into. “I think I need to visit Pompey…”, “Well then?” A hand jumps out the wall, pulling him in, a giant laboratory filled with different technology that wasn’t Helios based? “Wha- how, where- who are y-“, “I’ll stop you right there mate. I am Eugene, but you can call me Dos. I am a human, just like you. Difference is when I crashed I landed on mavolo, not neophyte. Or orkars, depending on where you landed.”, “Landed? But… I was born here.”, 

“What?” Dos said, freezing in the middle of his lab, dropping his tools, before dashing over to Solaris “Born here?! Explain, Now.”, “I was born here… I can’t remember most of my past but Pompey said it was just something humans did, forget their past.”, “No….. humans are supposed to remember their past, it doesn’t have to be perfect, but it has to be there. Just try and think back. What can you remember from your past.” Said dos with urgency, “all I remember is waking up in a cell, then meeting lividun.”. Dos rubs his face. “Memory loss huh… seems like you were clocked pretty hard.” Dos says before continuing to work “luckily that won’t matter because I think I’ve finally cracked the code to interdimensional travel. But I need material and muscle. It’s a long shot but it might work. Solaris… do you want to go back to earth with me?” Those words echoed through his mind as he thought. It was a way out of this forsaken cycle of fighting and losing. “Yes”

“OK GREAT! Let’s get you debriefed.” Said dos before grabbing a puck, Helios hologram, it showed the solar cluster of pkaro “What we need for this thing is seven materials. I have 4, you’re an idiot gladiator so I doubt you’d know what they are”, “Hey!”, Solaris says offended, dos scoffs as he continues “well anyways, we need to hit okars because they got the ores we need and hit neophyte because we need some photosynthetic cells for the device, and they got mutated ones that pack a power load. But we do need a ship. That’s where you come in.”, “Are you an idiot? Me? A lowly gladiator? Secure a ship!”, “Alright alright, no need to yell jackass, I’m just saying. A ship is all we need to get out of this…” he groans pointing at the cluster. 

“You’re insane. I won’t tell anyone of your existence, I’m just going to sum this up to too much onti.” He leaves the laboratory, before heading back to his room, heading back to sleep. 

He awakes the next day, heading to the lower floor reigns of the gladiator foyer. Seeing his fellow gladiator. He sits with Kore and Thaddeus “Morning Solaris!” Said kore happy to see her human buddy. “Morning kore.” He sits as Thaddeus says “Enjoy your suite Solaris?” “Ha, ha.” He said sarcastically. “How’s your wife? Still as cold as ever?” Thaddeus's face goes straight while Kore and Solaris laugh. He sighs and says “she’s still mad about me being a gladiator. But the pay here is nice! I get thousands of mavos just from one fight!”, “at least you guys get paid” Solaris says as they laugh, slowly dying down. “Hey guys, I have a question. Do you live off-planet? Like go home after each game?”, “I live here Solaris! But I do visit during the holidays.” Said Kore, smiling. “I go back to okars every weekend. What about it?” Said Thaddeus, cautiously.

“Do you think you could… bring me with?”, “What?!” Said Thaddeus yelling “You’re the royal pet! I can’t just take you to okars! That’d be treason and-“, “Thaddeus… please. Can you?” Said Solaris. He chokes on his words as Thaddeus slowly says “I guess I could, But you have to tell me everything!” His words shoot up, with the intention to know what he’s getting into. “Alright…” Solaris said, before they both look over to kore saying “I want in too!! Tell me!” Said kore excited to hear “Yeah, spit it out already.” Said Thaddeus, with his fake unamused expression, even though he was dying to know. 

Solaris goes on to explain everything about dos and how he found a way back to earth. “Wait a damn second… a random ‘Human’ that just happened to be inside the most secure place in all of pkaros, going undetected for decades just happens to pop up at the most random time saying he figured out interdimensional travel, something that even the smartest interplanetary scientists deem impossible.”, said Thaddeus, “I think you drank too much onti last night Solaris.” Said kore. As Thaddeus nods with her. “I thought that too. But, what if…” Solaris stares into the table, thoughts heavy by the idea of seeing his home planet. “Just come by my room at midnight. I’ll show you myself, if it even exists.” He sighs and just zones out. 

After an uneventful day of sitting in the barracks, Solaris lays anxiously in his bed, waiting for midnight. A light knock on his door, he gets up opening it. “You better not be wasting our time.” Thaddeus glares as kore stands next to him, smiling, not understanding the tone. “Ok, follow me.” Solaris walks past them walking down, mimicking his steps towards the royal chambers. “This is just the-“ Thaddeus is cut off by Solaris suddenly walking through a wall! Baffled Thaddeus stutters and kore just gleaming with joy walks through the wall too, Pulling in Thaddeus. Dos was just sitting on his chair, drinking a Targum flavored drink. “Ah! Solaris, and friends?” dos sips his drink curious and cautious of Thaddeus & Kore. “I’m guessing these are your guides to Okars & Neophyte?” Solaris nods as Kore smiles and Thaddeus glares. “What’s your plan. To kill us all?” He said, Thinking Dos lies. “The big bad okar hm? I bet you have a family you go back to every week. A little kid that wants to be you, a wife that fears your job.”, “You bastard!!” One of Thaddeus’s arms shoot out about to grab dos’s neck. Kore stops him by grabbing his hand with roots that sprouted out of her arm. “Look, I’m not here to soothe your nerves, i'm here to get away from beasts like.”said Delos unamused, Thaddeus roars “How do you expect us to help you if you wont even tell us your plan!”, “It’s quite simple.. I just don’t trust you.” Dos glares, as the situation thickens. “Dos, he’s right. You said you’ve found a way for me- Us to go back but you haven’t even shown me what’s taking us there.” Said Solaris. “You too? Ugh fine.” He pulls out a weird pistol like object, to the pkaros it was known as the “The Telos…” Said kore, in fear. “YOU MANIAC!! WHY DO YOU HAVE THAT!!” Yelled out Thaddeus. Everyone in pkaros knew what their telos was. It was taught in all forms of education, from preschool to college. The telos was created decades ago, in the 250th century it had enough potential energy to ignite anything, from the oxygen in air down to the plasma of a star. It could destroy anything, back in the year 25146 the telos destroyed the gaseous giant, LUCAS, and this human had the same weapon. 

”Calm down, its inactive.” Dos rolls his eyes. Solaris, confused, not knowing what the telos is. “He’s going to get you killed Solaris!!” Thaddeus yells as dos just sips, lightly chuckling at the situation. “Thaddeus, we have no better choice. Its an actual chance for me to get back to urath!”, dos coughs and says “earth”, correcting himself “Earth!” Said Solaris. Thaddeus puts his three hands on his hips while rubbing his face with his fourth. “Don’t make me regret this Solaris..” Thaddeus said, untrusting dos whilst wanting what’s best for Solaris. “Great! How soon do you think you could get me to okars?” Said dos. “Ugh.. Today?” Thaddeus said unapproving. “Let’s get a move on then!” Dos said, excited, everyone following Thaddeus to the ship bay. Kore hid the dos and Solaris in leaves, guards assuming it was just sub-flora. Boating Thaddeus ship its a lot more, roomy than you’d think. Taking off they shoot out of the stratosphere, towards okars.

“Can’t you at least tell us what you’re planning to make you lunatic?” Said Thaddeus. “I have children you know.”, “Don’t worry, it’s experimental. Even I can’t predict what’ll happen!” Dos says with a humorous tone in his voice. Thaddeus keeps flying with the thought in the back of his mind, “Let’s hope Solaris knows what he’s doing.” 

Hours later they land at okars, in the middle of what looked like a field of rocks that flowed like wheat. “Home sweet home…” said Thaddeus, feeling the slight release of bring home. “You’re a farmer Thaddeus? Never knew you were the type.” Said kore. The shuttle bay slowly opened as the pressured hull is enveloped by the ice-cold winds of okars. The first to step out is Thaddeus, who’s greeted with two tiny children, one with two arms and another with four. “DAD!!!” They screamed, rushing over crazily blurting out words, trying to catch him up. In all that confusion his wife walks up, laying her hands on his chest. “Hm.. it’s not a weekend, and I doubt you’re here because you miss me..”, “Ulu, the kids are listening.” Thaddeus says chuckling “that’s, kore, dos and S-“ Ulu cuts him off and says “you must be Solaris. Nice to meet you.” Ulu smiles looking at him. Before both their kids gasp and chant “loser!!”, before running over to Solaris, trying to get him to sign their arms. “Ugh, we don’t have time for this!” Said dos, walking towards the barn in the distance. “Wait what? What do you mean we don’t have time.” Said Solaris “Did I say that? Oh I just mean..”, “Don’t lie to me you nut.” Glared Thaddeus. As did gulps and say “I may have missed a couple details about the timing of this thing… the core is volatile… like really volatile. If it expires it turns into a proximity bomb that could break a chunk out of a universe.”, “I- WHAT?!??” All three of them yell out. “Look! I’m just as scared as you! All we need to do is get the materials as soon as possible and I can repurpose this thing into a transportation device. Right now we need are Orkards & palladium. Do you have any in your… barn?”, “Ulu?” Thaddeus looks at ulu, “I-I think we have some okards in the barn.” She said, terrified of the situation. She runs off towards the barn, bringing out a sack filled with battery packs. “They should have scrap palladium & okards in them.”, “Perfect!” Said dos before grabbing the battery’s and tinkering with the telos. He walks towards the ship, saying “To neophyte!!”, Thaddeus with no choice just kissed his wife goodbye before going with them, slowly flying away from the barn.

“So then, flora mantra.”, “Kore.” Kore glared at dos. “Alright, kore, the next part we need is a floral specific gene. The thing that makes you, a flora. We can obtain this in two ways. Either we scrape bark off the parent tree of neophyte”, “NO!” Yelled kore. “Thought so, second option, we kill a flora, and harvest their brain. Or whatever you guys call a brain.” Dos said, acting as if he didn’t just say they had to take a life. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s either one life, or 1 quintillion. This thing is still pretty deadly, you know.” All three of them stared, disturbed by dos knowledge. “Can’t we collect the bark kore?” Said Solaris. “It seems like it’s the better option, is it not?” Added Thaddeus. “You do Not understand!! The parent tree is the soul of neophyte! If it’s damaged, let alone chipped… I-I, Solaris, I cannot be apart of this!! This is treason, on so many different levels!”, “Look lady, we’re heading to neophyte anyways, so shut your trap and-“, “Dos! Don’t you have any morality?!” Said Solaris, smacking him upside the head.”WHat was that for?!” Dos’s voice rising a tiny bit to exaggerate his pain. “You just said that she should just sit back as her planet dies a tiny bit!” Thaddeus yells. “The means outweigh the many.” Said dos. Thaddeus bit back his tongue, he couldn’t let dos parade over their lives just because of a teleporter. “Why must we sacrifice a life just for a little MAN who lies! The telos maybe inactive! There’s no way of knowing!” Kore yelled, “Please, just put this to rest Solaris. Until we figure out a better answer.”, “NO! We cannot postpone this just because you don’t want someone to die. I cannot stand this system and ill do anything to-“, dos froze

”Ahh, I overreacted. How about this, we stop at lucas for some snacks and helios for the ship? On me.”, “That doesn't sound too bad. it’ll give us time to weigh our options.” Thaddeus Replies as Kore glares at dos. They drive into the Helios station, parking the ship, Thaddeus & Solaris get off to grab snacks/fill the tank. Leaving Dos & Kore to watch the ship. Kore, sitting on the pilots seat a loud blast was heard In the ship, it shaking. Before the window lightly glowing. Thaddeus rushes to the ship, “What happened!!” He sees red, not registering what he witnessed, the soulless leaf laying on the ground. “After all this time….” He aims the telos at Thaddeus “NO DONT!-” dashing forwards he's blasted, body slowly melting from the inside, his vocal cords struggling to even vibrate, before a puddle of dust is left on the ground. Solaris coming back out of the station looking for Thaddeus. The ship wasn’t there, all that was left was a clump of dust. All he saw in the distance was Kore’s dead, mutilated body floating in space. For a couple seconds he stares, “Wha..” breath in his chest fleeting, before he has a chance to react, a loud ringing at the back of his head, he turns seeing the blinding glow of an exposed core, rushing into the station, all the tvs were broadcasting “INTERPLANETARY ALERT: MALOVO HAS BEEN BLOWN UP.” Solaris stares, eyes locked in position, tearing up at the sight. (long pause) 

Seems like Solaris lost yet again. 

To be continued, or not. 

Baby Horse

by: Rachel Yin

It is June when Ma walks out of Peking Restaurant with nothing but a thin envelope in one hand and a plastic name tag furled in the other. She examines the crumpled sleeve with scant attention before flinching at the sight of her daughter. I’m sitting outside on the pavement, head buried in a copy of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer I borrowed– more accurately, stole– from a library back in Kentucky. Her lips tighten into disapproval. “I told you not to leave the caravan,” she mutters, tossing the name tag into the nearest garbage can, an act of liberation. 

“I don’t like your rules,” I sulk, losing my page. Buzzkill. Huffing, I close the book and sigh. “Where are we going to live now?” 

“Funny you ask, ‘cause I don’t plan on living much longer, xiao ma,” she quips. I can never tell if she’s joking or not. Ma simply squats down next to me, thighs nearly reaching the back of her heels before dragging a fag to fuschia-painted lips. Scarlet light from the restaurant’s sign flickers across her face, revealing her skin beginning to grow soft with wrinkles, each burgeoning crease an addition to a tapestry across a body of scars. “Life is a dream walking,” she recites in her rough Chinese accent. One of her old proverbs. “Death is going home.” 

“But whatta ‘bout Cherie? She’s our home!” Ma can’t be serious. I pout, rising to place my hands on my hips. 

Peering over my shoulder, Ma glances at our 1970s Digue, our poor excuse for a home, parked on the other end of the parking lot. The coppery rust engulfing the back-half of the caravan glistens under a streetlight. 

“Cherie’s just temporary,” she shrugs. She must sense my annoyance, because she tosses the remains of her cigarette, gives it a nice firm stomp, and begins walking back to the vehicle. Frustrated, I crossed my arms and stood firmly in place, watching her silhouette dwindle in size. How can she say that? But the wind suddenly intensified, whipping my book’s pages askew, and I quickly trail after her and grab her hand, like a flower bending toward the sun. 

She squeezes it immediately. 

“We’re going somewhere permanent,” she finally says. “Wo men de jia. Someplace we can truly call home.”

The sun descends, a devilish thing, always abandoning us when we need it most.

***

We rarely sat still. Miles and miles of Appalachia were still left to be explored, unearthed. Cherie heaves and swells under our feet, crossing over rough dirt roads left sullied for years. The sun hits the oaks at the right angle, elongated shadows cast over a field of dancing prairies. Sometimes I roll down the window and lean over the edge, the breeze whipping through my hair until I can’t see anything except black. Ma once reprimanded me, but now she simply snorts in amusement as I whip my head back into the solace of the car, spluttering from strands entering my mouth. 

In the summer, melanin multiplies in my skin, deepening from pale olive to honeyed brown like Ma’s. But her complexion never loses color all year round. “I used to farm,” she shrugs when I ask why, avoiding elaboration. But my curiosity refuses to be satiated by half-hearted answers. Sometimes, I dig through Cherie for remnants of who she once was. A torn diploma discarded underneath the couch, a diamond ring stored away in her miniscule jewelry collection, a book in Mandarin, its spine struggling to cling onto its tattered pages. Huó zhe, I rubbed my fingers against the words fading into obscurity. To live. 

When Ma pulls into a trailer park, I realize that it isn’t one at all. Rows and rows of large rectangular boxes perfectly spaced apart, like an enlarged set of Legos we snatched from Dave’s Salvage. We stop in front of a double wide. It’s white and busted and perfect. It’s stationary. 

It’s ours. 

One of Ma’s proverbs resurges mentally. When the old man lost his horse, how could one know it would not be for the best? Ma cuts the engine, turns toward me, and grins. Noticing the sparkle in my eyes, her smile stretches wider and it's suddenly as if all her wrinkles blended together into porcelain skin and she’s sixteen again, like this is the first time she’s seen the world. 

*** 

We’ve moved in for two days when our door was knocked upon with a crisp sound that reverberated around the entire house. I never imagined the perpetrator, a wide-eyed girl with a Foo Fighters shirt cropped dangerously short, would eventually become my best friend. 

“Hi,” she pants, one hand on her knee, the other wiping perspiration off her forehead. The tips of her fair hair are dyed blue and pink. I can’t help but think she resembles Harley Quinn. Or the American flag. 

“Who are you?” I blurt begrudgingly, hiding behind the door. She’s got this crazy smile on her face. It’s scary. It’s friendly.

“Let’s trade,” she offers instead. “An answer for an answer. How old are you?”

I hesitate before letting the number slip off my tongue. “Thirteen,” I say, because I can’t stand being twelve. “What’s your name?”

“Heather. Where are you from?”

“Here and there. Why are you here?” 

“To be your friend!” she beams. Her red bangs keep sticking to her eyes. She’s doing an awful job removing sweat off her brow. “I ran across the neighborhood when I heard about ya.”

I pause. I didn’t know how to respond. “Cool,” I say, because the only people I talk to on a daily basis are Ma and Cherie. 

“Cool,” Heather says too. She repeatedly lifts and taps the heels of her feet against the ground, betraying her impatience, before sighing and parting her lips. “Wanna play ball?” 

Ma’s out looking for a job. She didn’t tell me not to go outside. I nod.

Ball turns into scraped knees into neighborhood gossip. Heather’s twin Jamie and their friend George join us later at the center’s picnic table. Our tongues meet popsicles, the cold offering solace from the blistering heat of the sun. I soon learn that Birdie is the community’s oldest resident, that Heather is turning sixteen in a couple of days, that she steals Marlboro Reds from her stepfather because she wants him to notice that they're gone like it’s a victory, not a confession. Eventually, my tongue becomes loose with stories of my own. I tell them about leaving Peking and purchasing Cherie for dirt cheap at a cowboy auction and the haughty collection of library books that I failed to return. My nose crinkles when they talk about kissing and crushes and sex. When I ask what the latter is, they simply laugh. You’ll understand one day, Jamie teases, ruffling my hair. I pout. I hate being looked down upon. But then Heather’s making kissy faces at George and Jamie’s cackling and suddenly, a strange, unfamiliar warmth bubbling emerges in my stomach. Not from the sweltering heat, but something else. The kind of thing that’s responsible for the permanent smile etched across my face. 

I look up. They’re bickering about something. George holds his hands up in sheer defeat. Heather pumps her fist in the air. 

***

There’s something peculiar about the cabinet above the kitchen sink. Ma flits around it like a moth avoiding a flame, her movements careful, deliberate. The mystery gnaws at me. When I think she isn’t home, curiosity killing the cat, slowly, I nudge the cabinet door open.

Inside sits a bamboo box. My pulse quickens as I lift the lid, revealing rows of blurred numbers—illegible, tantalizing. Before I can make sense of them, two hands pry the box from my own with startling force.

“You’re back,” Ma says too brightly, clamping the lid shut and whisking the box out of sight. I crane my neck, desperate to catch one last glimpse of it, but it’s already gone.

Later that night, in another fool-hearted attempt, my hands tremble as I open the cabinet again, only to find nothing there. 

***

The sun beats on our backs as we read The Bridges of Madison County. Birdie makes mango pudding and Heather refills cherry sodas from Speedway and we share giggles underneath a makeshift hammock while the smell of propane tanks permeates the air, intoxicating. Our brows are slick with sweat, salty and sticky as we chase each other around the park before I quietly lock our door in subdued bliss at Ma’s imposed curfew– nine thirty. Weeks fly by, yet time moves in languid waves. This is our kind of summer. 

Anne’s just smashed a slate on Gilbert’s head when a familiar voice booms in front of my makeshift porch– a borrowed lawn chair from Heather’s stepdad. 

“Hey, kid,” Jamie chirps, and I feel my cheeks tingle. 

“I’m not a kid,” I retort, arms crossing after carefully setting Anne of Green Gables down on my lap. He waves my reply away.

“Here,” he smiles, wagging his eyebrows. “I’ve got something for you.” His hands suddenly fly forward. Something chunky flies in a delicate arc in the air before landing in my palms. A book. 

Mock anger dissipates as I muster all my might to resist the urge to shriek. “No way.” My fingers roam over the letters of Huckleberry Finn as if a fragile ghost. 

“My dad had a copy,” he simply shrugs, and the burning sensation in my cheeks intensifies. 

I blame the heat.

We made an odd bunch. George and Jamie and Heather and I. George’s tangerines are fat and round, exploding with saccharine as their flesh gets caught in our teeth. He squeals involuntarily when Heather finally acts upon her taunting and kisses him, all tongue and saliva, like a panther pouncing on its prey. “Oh my God,” Jamie moans, burying his head in his lap. I sneak a glance at his head of blonde fluff, giggling.

Ma’s peering into the box again when I return. She instantly looks up at the sound of our flimsy door shutting, ebony locks frozen in place where she gripped it, wide-eyed, like I casted a flashlight upon a raccoon rummaging through the dumpster. Yet, the spell of intrigue I felt towards what’s inside broke. Poof.

“Have a good time?” A tight smile forms while hugging the container closer to her chest. I nod. 

It wasn’t until later I realized that she didn’t notice I’d come home past nine thirty. 

***

“Where are we going?”

“Visiting an old friend,” Ma smiles. She’s put on her nicest dress, the teal one with a flower-embroidered collar that I picked out at a thrift store months ago. Her hair looks different too. Wavy. And bouncy. Like a Chinese Princess Diana starring on the cover of People. 

I slouch in my seat. Jamie was supposed to show us his rock collection today before he leaves for his soccer camp. “He’s real good,” Heather had said wistfully, unbeknownst to her the sad smile creeping up her face. “Might even make it outta here someday.” 

Ma had failed to point out that her “friend” was beyond wealthy. Neatly trimmed hedges unfurled across his lawn, followed by ridiculous glass windows behind limestone pillars underpinning the roof of his grand home. A fountain greater in size than Cherie sat before the steps leading up to the abode. Ma pulls just in front of it, and I stare eye-to-eye with cobblestone seals spouting water out of their mouths. 

“Come along, now,” Ma beckons as we walk up the grand stairs before arriving at a set of mahogany doors. 

A few moments after the crisp sound of Ma’s knock, an unfamiliar man of short stature answers the door. It’s as if scenes from a past life, a parallel universe, flash before his eyes, which expand and then harden at the sight of Ma’s dainty face. “How did you find me?”

Then, he slowly angles his head to meet mine. Maybe it's stubbornness, or fear, but I can’t seem to look away. His eyes are pale, so pale that they’re almost gray, and suddenly it’s like he dug too far into the earth and discovered something he didn’t want to see. It’s not love that completely transforms his expression, causing his furrowed eyebrows to thrust to the sky and the immediate slack of his jaw. 

It’s disbelief.  

Then he says something all too peculiar, rough and unfamiliar on his tongue, and I feel as if I swallowed a boulder when he breathes his next word. 

“Mallory?”

Ma jumps in front of him, instantly blocking my view of the man. “Please, Spencer, help us out,” she cries, suddenly dropping to her knees, hands pressed together, and no longer is she Princess Diana but a thing to be pitied, an angel falling from the sky into the endless abyss of helplessness. The man instantly flinches, frozen in place, and two identical little boys with hair so yellow dash out of the mahogany doors, curious.

I can’t look anymore. I run past the stairs and cobblestone seals and into Cherie. I whip the curtains close and the dark engulfs me as if a shield, a companion in my despair. I want to scream, until my lungs fly out of my lips like a slippery fish. I want to sink my teeth into soft flesh, watch it split underneath the sheer strength of my jaw. 

Because I know who that man is. 

Ma returns minutes later, hair wild, mascara smudged, and hands marred with nothing but scratches. “Stupid, fat white man,” she hisses as the engine splutters, fishing through the glove compartment until her hand meets a Miller Lite. “No wonder Americans are so lazy. Too drunk on beer and whores.” 

***

The first thing the girl noticed when the Man arrived was that his hair was gold. Tianshi, she thinks as she spots him from across the dusty makeshift road, the earth radishes’ weight on the milkmaid’s yoke across her shoulders suddenly light.

Angel.

She’d soon learn that the Man is from mei guo, exploring the rural Southeast in search of oil. That he’s looking to marry. He was stout. His nose was crooked. A belly burgeoned from his hips. But he was young. And the greatest thing that’s ever happened to her. 

She’d say goodbye to her parents, not knowing that it would be the last time she’d see them. She’d laugh when he wanted her to and beg him not to leave. She’d let his clammy hands roam her figure soft with goji oil whenever he desired. Dài wo yī qi zou, she’d sing-song with bayberry-stained lips, sweet as the longyan dancing from the trees on her father’s farm. And in those words, he would find music, slipping a diamond ring onto her finger, dressing her in white just like how his mother desires until Fuzhou was no longer her home but a dot on a globe in her new husband’s living room. 

She’d give him a daughter. Mallory, he’d call his child, foreign. But when the mother gazed into the life within her arms, so incongruous to her other parent, she’d know the daughter was her’s. Wo de xiao ma, she’d whisper in her ear, smiling as if they’re sharing a secret. My baby horse. 

And when the girl departs with nothing but a child in her hands and a wad of cash, she’d laugh. The sky weeps, tears seeping into her scalp and slipping through carefully ironed curls. But the girl wouldn’t cry. She’d simply walk down the steps with her head held high. 

Because a good horse does not return to eat the grass behind.

***

“We’re leaving? Why can’t we just stay here forever?” 

Ma’s laugh slithers across the smallness of our home, sharp and metallic. “Don’t start questioning me now,” she lowers her voice, cold. There’s a finality in the way she says my name. My Chinese name. 

A kettle begins to whistle in my ears. 

And suddenly, it hits me like a wave. Heather’s brazen behavior, unapologetically herself. George’s slow-witted yet kind nature. Birdie’s homemade food, rocking picnic benches, the smell of gasoline, the soft, quiet gaze of Jamie’s eyes that if I squint hard enough, one day I could reminisce as a look of something more. The first time I’ve ever called someplace home. 

Tightly closing my eyes, the words burst out of my tongue, loud and uncontrollable. 

“Is it because you want to run away from Ba?” 

The house stills in silence as her eyes suddenly soften.

“No,” her voice suddenly goes terrifyingly quiet. She pauses for a long while before her lips part to speak again. “It’s because I can’t find a job.” 

Suddenly, Ma whips out the bamboo box and dumps its remains onto the kitchen table. Once a mystery, the box reveals a few dollars in cash, four George Washingtons’ slipping out with a sharp jingle. Our situation finally registers in my head, but not my heart. Why can’t she understand? Oxygen struggles to enter my lungs. Claustrophobia morphs from a distant thought into my reality. And the kettle explodes with a deafening screech. 

“But Ma, I’m finally happy!”

A myriad of emotions flicker across her black fish bead eyes– warmth, sadness, and worst of all, guilt. I leave the house, door limping. And I hear the thud of Ma against the wooden floor, in the crevice between the sink and the fridge, nose sniffling, throat hoarse and rasping. 

It’s rather chilly outside. Squatting, I rub my hands against one another, my mind desperate for heat, for distraction from what I know will soon be reality– our departure. So I begin to imagine. I think of a trail of never ending books. I think of Jamie and Heather and George and I. I think of seaside limbs stumbling across endless expanses of soft sand. And maybe, just maybe, in a brief exhale halfway between acceptance and something more, I think of Ma’s hand in mine. 

Xiǎo mǎ ǒ ě ǐ à

There is a World

by: Galina Opletayev

There is a world that is ruled by a witch. There, a war rages on. But that war would seem awfully unfamiliar to most men. For the war is a quiet one, defined in shallows and slopes like the gentle impressions the tide leaves in the sand.

This world, and its aforementioned conflict, was discovered by humanity completely on accident. One day, sometime in the nineteenth century, a young, human girl fell into the sea. But instead of drowning, she did something far more peculiar, she flew. 

I

 Rayona woke up soundly, from a dreamless sleep, to the sound of drums. Just outside the curved window of her dwelling the festivities were already ramping up. In a reasonable hour, she was dressed in full red regalia, complete with a massive, horned crown pinned to her untamed hair. She joined the outermost circle of dancing, moving through it and further inward. Though it took hours to navigate the many concentric rounds, the reward was sweet. In the middle of the dance was the prize she sought: the satyr, Lam. The woodland god was a cheerful fellow. He was also plagued by his own inhibitions and thus, happily drunk as the sun rose above the treeline. 

“My friend, Lam!” She called out, matching his rhyme with ease. The beat of the grand drums was deafening but the ritual grass tempered the sound. It allowed the dancers' bones to hear the song's volume, leaving only the beat and melody to their sensitive ears. 

“Rayona! What have you?” Lam half-shouted and half-sang as they locked step. 

“I heard from the woman on the loom tonight,” Rayona began, “She brought me news of your exploits.”

“Which ones?” Lam laughed heartily.

“Your remarkable discovery, my friend,” She said in turn, the veil of polite conversation being blown aside suddenly. To his credit, the satyr did not stumble in his motion as he reacted. For half a chorus, they were both silent, save for the clanging of the ribbons of silvery bells tangled at Lam’s waist.

“Find Melayna and her husband, now or when the sky's eight shades past true blue!” Lam belted out the last few words at full throttle. Then, the spirit of the dance seemed to finally take hold of him. The intelligence in his eyes dimmed, making way for a primal fire.

Ramona followed shortly after, the thrall of music gripping her bodily, smoothing out the kinks of her active mind. It threw her like wave at its own seabed, into the shared world of all those present. 

Up above the proceeding, a lone figure stood.. His name waswas Sudden and and he knew a hundred crows. He watched the festival rage on, narrowing his eyes at the two figures that had been previously conversing. With a terse shrug, he headed back down the small ridge. As his worn leather shoes hit the dust and dirt, they made no disturbance in the natural floor. He moved through the thin trees, leaving no evidence of his trail, and ventured towards the stone by the creek. Sudden spent a long moment simply standing by it, allowing the rapid trickle of the water to play its music along his thoughts. Then, he turned and knelt by the stone.

The surrounding stream roared to life. It swept around the curves and slopes of the body resting on the smooth river stone. The nymph lay there, her bluish skin catching the light in strange, murky ways. The bulk of some fifteen to twenty rings jammed on her fingers reflected the pale shine sharper still. She gazed down at Sudden with hardened, opal eyes, and smiled, revealing rows of slim, sharp teeth. 

”Speak,” She drawled and when she herself spoke it sounded like a gurgling spout. 

“Mistress, the Red Ram has sought out and joined the satyr, Lam, in dance,” Sudden replied, looking firmly at the ground. The nymph hummed and what a strange noise that was. 

“Have you found the aid of the Wild one?” She asked thoughtfully, placing her chin on her dozen-knuckled hand and leered over the edge of her stone, down at Sudden.

“No,” He said.

The nymph let out a low rumble, spat a fish bone onto the ground, and closed her eyes. She sat like that for a long while. As she mulled the information over, her ribs moved beneath her skin in rhythmic, hypotonic patterns. 

“Bring me A-di-dala, the sweet witch,” She finally said. 

“Why? How should that help our means?” Sudden questioned.

“It won’t. I simply hunger,” The nymph flippantly answered, “Go now.” 

Sudden had half a second to scramble back before an inexplicable wave burst up from the river, crashed down on the stone, and disappeared with the nymph. He cleared his throat and climbed back up to standing, muttering a few choice words beneath his breath. He pushed his palm against a nearby tree, ensuring its roots did not touch the riverbank, and whispered something against its bark. A twisted branch fell from it, landing at his feet. Sudden picked up the staff and began his journey to collect the kind witch, trodding tiredly west, towards the second sun. 

II

A hundred thousand men in wrought iron armor marched in a strange, near whimsical, pattern through ancient fields. They had elected to bypass the great barrier of thorns, instead skirting towards the unforgiving moorland. That had been the simple part. Now, they had entered the witch land proper, heading through endless, rolling fields of flowers. Each man’s muscles shook with pure tension. Every step they took was slow, meticulous, controlled. They contorted their hefty builds to creep like mice, placing each steel-toed boot just perfectly between the growing flowers. 

Sitting on a hillside about a quarter way off, was a gentle maiden, watching them idly. She had a sheet of silken hair and was tapping her fingers on the very edges of the petals around her. She sang them a lilting, tuneless song, barely audible on the wind. 

The army of men crept towards her, past her, steadily. She paid little mind to the ballistas strapped to platforms, shouldered by dozens of them. She turned no great attention to the barrels of oil and sacks of black powder they carried with them. 

Sudden had just come over the hill two marks left of her, when**** the scene fell apart. One man, soaked in sweat and shuddering under the weight of his armaments and designated load to bear. One man, indistinguishable from the rest. One man, took a careless step, and crushed the neck of a single, lovely, wildflower. 

The vast expanse of the sky nearly burst out, like a shattered glass dome, at the cataclysmic sound that left the kind witch’s lips. Her somber howl grew and grew, swelling with tension rapidly. Sudden watched, with mounting horror, the woman’s eyes water. A single man. A single lapse in care. A single flower, broken. 

A single tear, streaking down A-di-dala’s sweetened face. Breaking like a star hitting the night, leaving a glimmering trace behind. The men’s army stuttered in their slow assault, scrambled to find some path of retreat. But it was already far too late. Many tears now streamed down the kind witch’s face, overflowing and dripping down her chin. She hiccuped through sobs, her pink lips forming half-words, broken prayers for the murdered flower. Her chest seemed to cave inwards, her face scrunching in utter anguish, as she felt the depth of its experience. She grasped feebly at all the life it had beheld, the sway it shared with its siblings, brushing companionably against each other in the breeze. All around where it had grown, the surrounding flowers lost petals in mourning. Up on the hill, A-di-dala has quickly spiraled out of control. Her wails had formed an uninterrupted scream, her body spasmed with great force. But that was trivial, what mattered was the crying. Hundreds and hundreds of sparkling beads of water rushed down her face, drenching her and the ground she sat on. With every ragged breath she took, the flood widened, its tide strengthened. 

Within four sobs, the witch had cried a tidal wave. It crested upwards, reaching vainly towards the sky, before crashing down with a volatile vengeance. Though A-di-dala’s mind never strayed from simple sadness, for she was the sweet witch, who cared so deeply for the flowers, the same could not be said for the salt water. It, now released from the vacuum of its holder, had a mind of its own. It seethed, white foam sputtering in indignation. Its enormous weight fell down on the heads of the hundred thousand soldiers with purified, alchemical rage. Scores of the men drowned instantly in their armored shells, bubbles bursting through the plate. Others were smashed into their compatriots, impaling themselves on each other's weaponry and helms. Their terrified faces flashed meaninglessly before Sudden, who waited patiently for the flood to clear out. It took a handful of hours, the white sun creeping over its own apex in the sky, keeping the man company in their joint vigil. 

Eventually, all the evidence that remained of the event was a thin layer of water rapidly sinking into the fertile soil. The wildflowers swayed idly with Ad-di-dala, humming her tune again. Sudden raised an arm slowly, the other braced on his wooden staff. A crow rose from some unidentified point behind him, and flapped over to the kind witch. It landed on the smooth plane of her hair, prompting a delighted laugh.

”Hello, small friend,” The witch smiled and ran a painstakingly gentle hand down its shiny feathers. The crow squawked in return, its beady eyes regarding her fondly. 

“You come here with the man with no footsteps, yes?” She asked. The crow responded with another, shorter squawk. A-di-dala grinned and pressed her cheek to its side before sending it on its way. Only when the bird alighted on Sudden’s staff did the witch turn to him.

“Friend, what brings you to our place?” She said quietly but the flowers carried her voice, bouncing its tones along their petals.

“I come here on the bidding of my mistress. To bring you to her river stone,” He said plainly. The witch sighed, not unkindly, and inclined her head.

“You may take me. But I request that my soul remain here,” Then a longing look overtook her eyes, as she brushed a hand along the colorful field, “With my darling friends.” Sudden nodded and turned, walking back along his pathless road. The witch followed him and as she rose from her sitting position, her skirt fluttered in the wind. She skipped freely through the fields, for she had no legs nor feat to impact the flowers. Her soul dropped like a stone, through her chest, and lay in the place she had sat for the past thirty-some years. It kept singing her noncencial tune, its smooth sides warming in the endless summer, or perhaps it was already spring, sun. 

They traveled together for some time. The unlikely companions made the occasional stop to rest, and in A-di-dala’s case, to coo at passing flora. Though the witch remained in high spirits, the same could not be said of Sudden. The surroundings certainly didn’t help. He understood the rationale behind the wild witches and beast-men of this place. Their urge to hang their aggressors corpses from branches or half-bury their bones in sprawling roots. The land seemed pleased, fertile with the sacrifices of war. The armies of men had made many attempts to scorch, raze, and otherwise kill the earth of their shamanistic enemy. None of those attempts had been successful, save for the briar barrier, and had been mostly scrubbed from existence by hardworking naturalists. 

In his anxiety, he bid crow after crow to circle above them in the sky. Soon enough, a torrent of small black bodies blotted out light above them, but it did little to ease his trepidation. The war made little impact on him, even if the sight of men outside of the throned briar was disturbing. It was change that irked him, like an insistent minnow, nibbling at the inside of his cheek and slipping between his molars when he attempted to squash it.  

His failure to elicit sympathy for the cause from the Wild warrior also weighed heavy on him. More so, was the hundred-pound embarrassment of never having found her in the first place, which he had elected to not mention to his mistress. It was not the satyr that threatened his position. Quite contrary, Lam provided little opposition, and with the right honeyed bribe, could even become an unreliable asset. It was the damned woman, the Red Ram, that had him worried. Rayona had just enough influence to be a bother and was insignificant enough in the eyes of the greater will to become a true danger. 

Doubtlessly, she was already busying herself, picking at unraveling strands and trading her words for insight on the larger picture. He felt his skin crawl, the vision of those red, cloven eyes, raking across his back. Sudden increased the width of his gait, hurrying along the dry leaves. Before he could deteriorate further, somewhere, presumably by the edge of the world, the diviners’ horns began to blare. Shortly after, the low thrum of great stringed instruments followed. Sudden hummed thoughtfully, glanced at the witch, and smirked. Perhaps he could still find a way to please his mistress. A wizard was known for two things after all: His secrets and his schemes. 

III

Coming Soon . . .