Deep within the Everglade Forest, nestled among delicate ferns and babbling brooks, bustled the kingdom of Dewberry. The late-summer sun filtered through the towering oaks and illuminated the valley, teeming with activity. Critters of all shapes and sizes scurried about, claiming spaces for vibrant market stalls and stringing cheery banners between the boughs of low-hanging branches. It seemed all of Everglade was excitedly preparing for the coronation. That is, all except for one conceited squirrel.
The snores resounding from 4513 Applewood Lane abruptly ceased, and Denim tumbled from his bed. “Oh for the love of…” he trailed off in a series of muttered profanities as he rubbed the bridge of his nose and tottered down the stairs towards his front door. A lizard in gleaming palace armor stood outside, his fist raised to continue the knocking that matched Denim’s pounding head. The guard quickly clanked inside, kicking the empty cups and loose papers that littered the floor as he went.
“I’m here to escort you to your mandatory community service. His Majesty expects you to report in five minutes.”
“It’s good to see you too, Dave. How have you been? How’re the kids?”
“Follow me, please.” The lizard strode back out the door, crushing Denim’s foot beneath his armored boot as he passed. Denim cursed again and threw on his frayed jean vest before stumbling after.
The familiar clamor of a Dewberry festival crescendoed as the pair picked their way through the early-morning crowds to a small stage near the center of the village. Denim pocketed several goods from merchant carts before they reached a smiling group with green volunteer sashes that gathered before King Jacques. The King stood as high as his mouse legs allowed, issuing orders through a megaphone.
“Thank you all once again for offering your time. It is because of kind souls like yourselves that these events are such a success! Now, you have your marching orders. Off to your posts, everyone!” Cheers and applause scattered through the volunteers before they dispersed. King Jacques suddenly noticed Denim and pittered over, adjusting his crown and royal purple smock as he went. “Good morning, Denim,” he squeaked, “I’m glad to see you here. Hopefully your experience in community service will help you see that giving to the community is much more rewarding than taking.” His whiskers twitched slightly. “I’d hate to see your… charisma go to waste. Perhaps you’d like to check tickets at the East Gate?”
“What?!” Denim blurted. “But everyone knows that’s the most bor-” The guard kicked him from behind, and he coughed. “I mean, yes, Your Majesty.”
“Excellent!” The King cried, clapping his snowy paws together, “I’ll have David escort you straight away. Oh, and Denim-” he added as they turned to leave, “I’d suggest returning those fruits in your pockets on your way. My daughter isn’t as patient with thieves as I am, and seeing as it’s only a matter of hours before she wears this crown, it may be best to begin practicing discipline.”
Denim stuttered, but King Jacques was already exiting the theatre, his knotted cane clacking over the cobblestone. Barely restraining a frustrated grumble, Denim reluctantly started towards the East Gate.
~~~
“Thank you for coming, and have a nice day. Thank you for coming, and have a nice day. Thank you for…” Denim sat hunched over on the stool outside Dewberry’s east entrance, his ears flattened and his head resting on his paws. The sun had begun its infuriatingly slow descent behind him, and Denim felt that if he saw another screaming child or heard another joke about the weather, he was going to burst into flames. Better get the water ready, he thought bitterly, noticing that the line still extended out of sight. He buried his face further in his paws.
“Excuse me? Am I allowed to sell these here?”
“Do you have a license and-” Denim stopped midsentence, his nose twitching. A warm, nutty aroma that smelled like love and hope and all things utterly perfect flooded his nostrils. He looked up. There beside him was a cloaked crow, rolling the largest cart of candied peanuts Denim had ever seen. The surrounding space instantly dimmed and paled, unable to handle the majesty of that glowing treasure.
“Sir? What were you saying about my license?”
“Yeah, yeah, go on in,” Denim whispered absentmindedly. His eyes were wide. The crow confusedly continued through the entrance after a moment, and Denim watched until she disappeared into the market.
An annoyed cough called him out of his daydreams, and he turned to find a chipmunk, tapping her foot and waving her ticket in front of him. “You’re good,” he said quickly. “In fact… you’re all good. Come on in, everyone!” He shouted, leaping up and racing in the direction of the peanuts.
Denim bobbed and weaved between merchants, entertainers, and coronation festival-goers in the direction the raven went. Eventually, he picked up the smell, and it carried him all the way to the west end. He rounded a corner and suddenly there the cart sat, squished between stalls, in all its golden glory. As if his luck couldn’t go any farther, the crow was nowhere to be seen. His heart racing, Denim snuck behind the stalls and, when all of the surrounding merchants were distracted, eased it coolly down the road.
Keeping a close eye on the patrolling guards, he ducked behind the nearest fern and pulled the cart into the brush. After a few seconds, Denim breathed a sigh of relief, and turned towards the peanuts, a predatory grin lifting the corners of his mouth.
~~~
Twenty minutes later, a scream sliced through the cobbled streets of Dewberry. Musicians plucked into silence, conversations petered out, and pattering paws and claws slowed as everyone gradually realized it had lasted too long to be a squeal of joy. The scream multiplied. Dozens of voices cried out from the center of the village, all shrieking one name: “Calypso!”
Denim peeked his head out of the ferns, and the empty peanut cart rolled away behind him. The name pulled a string of his memory. Calypso the Crow was Everglade’s most notorious scavenger; a master of disguise, she darted between kingdoms, sneaking in and stealing the possession deemed most valuable. Denim couldn’t help but admire her efficiency. The ground beneath him rumbled as a black mass suddenly shot into the forest canopy and the crowd rushed back towards him. Fed up with his monotonous life in the village, Denim emerged from his hiding place and followed the shadow of wings.
By the time he reached the East Gate, the King was already waiting and furious. He paced hotly as Denim approached.
“There you are! I was about to send the army after you! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“Your Majesty, if this is about the peanuts, I swear, the cart was empty when I-”
“What peanuts? What are you talking about? You abandoned your post and allowed Everglade’s most imminent threat inside the walls! What do you have to say for yourself?”
Denim froze. Hazily, through a fog of peanutty dreams, he remembered the face of the merchant who had pushed the cart. He’d recognize that scarred, feathered face from the wanted posters anywhere. Well, apparently anywhere except behind a mountain of the world’s tastiest snack. “King Jacques, I-”
“Never mind! I don’t want to hear.” His whiskered face twisted. “We have an incredibly dangerous situation on our hands.”
“Dangerous? I’d hardly call a case of thievery dangerous,” Denim half-chuckled, but the laughter promptly died in his throat.
“That’s enough out of you. You have no idea of the catastrophe you may have just caused. Come with me,” he finished in a whisper and walked a few paces, just out of the earshot of passing civilians. Denim instinctively stilled as the King’s black eyes fell urgently upon him.
“Calypso indeed stole our most precious possession today; I saw her fly away with it in her claws myself. However, the Princess, Calypso, myself, and now you, are the only souls who know of its existence, and I should like to keep it that way. What that blasted bird took is worth more than all the world’s gold. She stole the Heart of the Forest – the Golden Acorn.” Denim’s eyes widened, the words ‘more than’ and ‘gold’ ricocheting around his skull. The King dropped his voice even lower and continued.
“That Acorn has been secretly passed through the Dewberry royal family, generation to generation, for over six hundred years. It has the power to restore life to the forest each spring, and my daughter cannot be crowned without it. If it is not returned to the castle by the rising of tomorrow’s sun, the winter will come this season, and it will stay. For Calypso, a creature who feeds on death and shames the name of her species, that is a paradise.
Now, listen to me very carefully. I cannot create a panic by sending out soldiers during the festival. Since this is your mess, I am entrusting you to right it. You must go alone, and take nothing but this lantern and dagger.” The King handed Denim a firefly-light and a small, silver knife, encrusted with several sparkling gems. “Though it does not serve the kingdom, I don’t deny that you are a fine thief. You are cunning, a quality that will serve you well should you choose to use it to the benefit of others.”
Denim raised a finger and cleared his throat. “If I may, your royal mousiness, I don’t think this is such a good-”
“You will be cleared of all withstanding charges and gifted a large sum of peanuts if you succeed.”
“Done.”
~~~
A flock of forest finches startled and took flight as Denim yelped and suddenly sunk waist deep in the river. Several hours had passed since he began his journey, and Dewberry, the only home he’d ever known, wasn’t even a blink on the horizon behind him. The moon was well into her climb, her shining face providing little light through the thick foliage. Denim climbed onto the bank, grumbling and ringing out his tail.
“Good-for-nothing fireflies,” he muttered, angrily tapping the lantern King Jacques had given him. The light promptly went out. “Oh, come on! I didn’t mean it!” He whined. The fireflies indignantly remained dark, and Denim yanked off the lid of the lantern and dropped the whole thing in the grass. Vowing never to employ the help of those “pretentious wannabe stars” again, he stomped onwards in the dark. The King had directed him to follow the river until it opened into a barren meadow.
There would stand Everglade’s tallest tree, which long ago shed its leaves and rotted from the inside. Carved into the corpse was Calypso’s lair. The King warned Denim that no one had ever been able to enter the meadow undetected. Then again, he thought, none of those amatuers were me.
Denim hadn’t gone more than fifty paces before he slowed, the hairs on the back of his neck pricking up. The intense conviction that he was being watched slid its icy fingers up his spine and made him shiver. He squinted around, barely able to make out anything in the inky blackness. Nothing stirred except for the occasional owl’s song or late-night cricket raves. Hesitantly, he took a step forward, and cringed when a stick cracked under his paw.
All at once, a bloodthirsty screech filled the air to his left, and a pair of razor-edged claws closed around his shoulders with an iron grip. Denim struggled against the cold bones as he was heaved from the ground, but to no avail. The forest floor spun farther and farther beneath his feet.
“Let go of me!” He yelled through gritted teeth as they reached the top of the canopy, kicking his back paws like a trapped rabbit. The crow cawed aggressively, obliging, and the crushing pressure on Denim’s chest lifted. “AAAAAAAH!”
Villagers later reported the wailing of a freefalling rodent reached all the way to the outskirts of Dewberry.
Just before he struck the grass, the talons closed around him once more, and Calypso jerked to the right to pin him against a nearby tree. Denim struggled to whip his neck out of the way as she repeatedly drove her beak into where it had been moments previous. In horror, he realized he’d lost his dagger sometime during the fray. Calypso shrieked and reared her head back, preparing for one final blow.
Suddenly, a flash of hazel slammed into the raven’s side, and she fell to the ground, releasing Denim. Too stunned to run, he watched as the pair rolled off, feathers flying and wings beating furiously. Finally, his savior sunk their teeth into Calypso’s leg, and she instinctively took flight, soaring into the shadows and out of sight. The heavy sounds of Denim’s breath filled his ears. After a moment, he stumbled over to the brown bundle lying by the river. Upon closer inspection, he realized it was a young mouse. As she opened her eyes, he wordlessly held out his paw to help her up.
“I’m fine,” she snapped, rising to her feet, “You, on the other hand, almost got yourself killed.”
When the mouse brushed herself off and met Denim’s stare, recognition rocked through him, and his mouth fell open. “You’re Princess Daphne.” He pointed at her, dumbfounded.
“Well-spotted,” she quipped, replacing the tiara that had fallen around her neck. “And don’t bother introducing yourself. My father’s already told me all I need to know about you.” Her eyes narrowed.
“I don’t understand… why are you here?” Denim asked, unfazed.
She sighed. “When we get back to the kingdom, you can’t tell anyone I was with you. I snuck out. I saw Calypso fly off with the Acorn and heard Father sending you after it, and I wanted to make sure it would be returned to us safely. Besides, this might be my last chance for an actual adventure before I’m stuck in the castle for the rest of my life.”
Denim hardly imagined living large in the palace and being given everything on a silver platter qualified as stuck. Never having to worry about where he’d find his next meal sounded like a fantasy.
“Listen,” he said, his heartbeat finally calming as he continued along the river, “I appreciate the concern. Really, I do. But I hardly think the forest at night is any place for a princess. I can handle myself. Calypso’s likely dropped off your precious little snack in her lair, and I need to be invisible to get through the meadow. I can’t accomplish that if I’m towing a walking flare behind me. Dear old dad will have everyone and their mother looking for you.” “Excuse me?” She huffed, stomping along beside him, “Do you hear yourself? Do you recall that time two minutes ago when I saved your bushy butt? And when we find Calypso’s hideout, chances are I’m going to be the one towing you through that meadow! You can’t fight to save anyone, much less the Heart of the Forest!”
“And what gives you the right to come out of nowhere and criticize my combat skills?” He whirled to face her, placing his paws on his hips defensively.
In the blink of an eye, Daphne drove her knee into Denim’s stomach, grabbed the scruff of his neck, and flipped him on his back, winding him. “I’ve trained for nineteen years with the head of the royal guard. And you should know, being a misogynistic nutbag doesn’t sit well with the future queen. Now come on. We’ve got to get the Acorn before the sun rises, and I have to teach you how to protect yourself so you don’t officially doom us all.”
Hero in Solitude
by: Brianna Paul
I can’t remember the last time I was happy, but then again I don’t remember much of anything. I could not name the people I hung out with in middle school, or the teachers I had year round. I used to have goals, but now all I seem to have is my thoughts.
I’m floating. My head feels as though it's fallen off. My body tingles while my spine seems to lift out of place. My cheeks are warm. I stare blankly at the ceiling of my car memorizing every color and light that bounces off. The music runs circles in my head. The beat dances in front of my eyes. I know I should quit this feeling, but there is something so peaceful about it. At this moment, nothing else matters. My chest is heavy, but this is the only time I can breathe. And while my mind is thinking a million things, it all combines to be one great, big picture. I can’t seem to make sense of it, though.
I can’t seem to make sense of anything.
“You’re home early! I made dinner if you’re hungry. Do you want to visit with us for a little while before we go to bed?” I feel bad. I know she knows what I’m going to say, but I can’t help but feel sorry for her for trying anyway.
“Yeah there wasn’t much to do tonight. I think I’m just going to go lay down for a bit. I’m pretty tired.” Lie. I know I’ll be up for hours mindlessly scrolling, listening to music, or going over every possible scenario in the world.
“Okay, well I love you very much. Make sure you’re up for school tomorrow.” I genuinely think my mom cares more about school than I do. High school is hell. It’s a bunch of kids who are oblivious to the world around them. I used to love school. Freshman year changed that real quick. Four years later and I only have a few months left.
“Love you too, Mom. I’ll be up.” I will be up—just a little late like usual. Every day is the same: wake up, shower, brush teeth, skincare, hair, makeup, outfit, school; nothing changes. I want change. I need change.
I think I make my mom sad. Probably my stepdad, too. Add my friends to the list. I know I should spend more time with them, but I like being alone. I lay in bed for a while waiting for my parents to go to bed. After I hear their usual yell for the dogs and the close of their bedroom door, I know it won’t be long now. I get out of bed after 20 minutes, grab my keys, throw on my shoes and head out the door. Every night I tell myself I’m staying in, but I want to be sitting in my car. It eventually overwhelms my thoughts. As I’m walking to the elevator, I check my phone and notice that it reads 8:47pm. My curfew is 11 on school nights, but what my mom doesn’t know won’t hurt her. I get to the elevator only to find a girl my age already waiting. I hate seeing people my age, but now that I think about it, I’ve never seen her before.
“Hi!” She gives me a warm smile. One that actually makes me hate people less. I notice she has a piercing in her nose. Just like mine. Opposite side. She’s a little shorter than I am- brown hair. She’s wearing blue sweatpants and a black hoodie.
“Hey, do you live here?” My curiosity gets the best of me. I know no one here. I have to drive to school because there isn’t a bus that picks me up, so meeting someone in my city would be nice.
“Yeah, my family and I just moved in. I was running down to my car to grab something. I take it you live here? What’re you doing?” She’s not the shy type- like me. She’s friendly, but also seems to have secrets.
“I’ve been living here for almost a year. I’m running down to my car, too.” Maybe this is the change I needed. She tells me her name is Callie.
Soon, Callie and I are hanging out every day after school. We talk about things normal teenagers talk about, but also things I vowed never to say out loud. It’s easy with Callie. We share similar stories growing up. Single mother. Absent dads who are trying now, and while we can’t help but continue to love them, we allow ourselves to talk bad. It’s therapeutic. Callie knows the feeling of floating, too. We make an agreement to experience this feeling in small amounts. It’s all we did for a while to cope with life, but something in us both shifted.
“What do you want to do when you’re older?” She’s looking at me through blue eyes. I’ve never really thought about this question before. I mean, of course I know I have to go to college, but I feel lost. I know what I’m going to do, but is it what I want?
“College. Work. You know, everything I was brought to this world to do.”
“Well yeah, I know that stuff, but what do you want?”
“I want to be happy.” It comes out without me even thinking.
“What will make you happy, Blair?” Being alone makes me happy. Feeling the warm sun on my face makes me happy. Sitting in my car, windows down, music playing in the summer makes me happy.
“I want to travel the world after I have a set job. I want an apartment, so I can save as much money as possible. I don’t know. I just want to experience the little things in life.”
“No way! That’s my plan, too.” We’re so much more alike than I thought we were.
People have started calling us sisters. I guess when you hang around someone for a certain amount of time you can begin to look alike. Callie looks at me and starts again, “Let’s do it.”
“Do what?” There is no way she is serious.
“Do everything. See everything. Experience everything. I have been wanting to do this for so long.” This actually might not be a bad idea. I know Callie and I haven’t known each other for a long time, but we’ve gotten so close, so fast. Callie knows almost everything about me at this point. I know her, too. There’s a voice in the back of my head that keeps repeating the word “change” to me.
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
This is the first time in a long time where I’ve had a goal, or a dream. This is the first time I’ve looked forward to something. It’s weird. It feels good. The last couple months with Callie has made me feel like a different person. I started to care less about the things that used to keep me up at night. Her and I agreed that we only live once. That little phrase has changed my whole mindset.
“Blair! Callie! So, what’re you girls up to tonight?” My mom is so nosy, but I know she means well.
“We were actually thinking of having dinner here and then leaving.” I like being home more often. It’s been nice seeing my family and having Callie over. If we’re not at my house, we’re at hers. If not there, we’re in my car.
“Oh yay! Another night having you visit with us. Aren’t we lucky?” My mom loves feeding people, so I know us staying for dinner made her night again.
Every time Callie and I hang, it’s always something different. We do everything together.
I’ve introduced her to my other friends, who I’ve actually seen a lot more of, and she’s introduced me to hers. She does online school, but she used to live in the area, so she knows a few people of her own. One of the best things about Callie, though, is that she also likes being alone. We get to be alone together. I’ve never met anyone who has made such a difference in my life. Callie and I have taught each other a lot, though. We’ve been there for each other in ways I could have never imagined. We have plans to rent an apartment together, save money, and see where life takes us. School is almost done now. My grades have improved.
I’m alone now, sitting in my room. It’s different this time, though. Even though I’m thinking a million things, it doesn’t consume me. I think about how a few months ago I really didn’t know who I was. I still don’t, but my issue was feeling lost. Maybe who I am is someone who just experiences life. I know I’m a curious person. That in itself can just be me. I smile at the thought of not needing to have everything figured out.
Callie and I have our own world we’ve created. Our own place of solitude, and that makes me happy.