The Winner of the Creative Writing Club Contest

By Gracie C.

The Creative Writing Club recently held a competition for the best short story. Writers used a fantasy prompt to create engaging and exciting tales. Afterward, members of the Book Club served as judges, voting on their favorite story.  The winning submission for the Fall 2024 Fiction Contest is “Storyteller” by Gracie C. Here is the story: 

A squirrel ricocheted through the brush and leapt onto the base of a tree. Bracing his feet against the gnarled wooden surface, he barked angrily at the intruder. A doe and her fawn, who had been grazing in the center of the clearing, melted into the surrounding forest. A murder of crows burst into the sky, shrieking. The sun beat down on the tops of the trees. A light summer rain–one of those odd freaks of nature–was sprinkling the wood. From his lofty perch in an old pine, a blue jay scolded. A teenage girl rushed into the clearing. Doubling over, hands on her knees, she gulped air greedily. Sweat poured down her face. She was wearing an emerald-green hoodie with a flower design. Her legs were encased in fashionably torn white jeans too tight for her. As she panted, she lifted her head. A puff of strawberry-blond hair was knotted in a loose ponytail that bobbed at the nape of her neck. Clumsily applied mascara dotted the blue circles underneath her eyes. Her face was crimson with heat.

“Heck. Heck.” She tottered over to an abandoned stump and seated herself on it. “I hate this.” Jamie curled her hands into fists. The sting of her painted nails poking her tender palms was almost refreshing. “I hate it. I hate it. I hate all of it.”

A dainty black-capped bird that could have fit in her pocket fluttered out of the undergrowth. He perched on the floor of orange needles, crumpled leaves, and scattered soil beneath their feet. His bright, inquisitive eyes examined her. Jamie held her breath. After looking at her for a moment, the chickadee began to peck at the ground. For a moment, she had fancied that it would speak to her–open its beak and declare a special message for her, like the woodland beasts in the books she loved. You, oh rebellious girl, the pint-sized bird would have declared, have been chosen for a remarkable quest. She would have quivered from head to toe with anticipation. She could see herself leaning forward on her stump, in danger of toppling to the ground. The bird would have preened its messenger-ly chest with an aristocratic sweep of its beak before continuing. Jamie, I have come to recruit you to take part in a mission to rescue the most valuable object of all time: the egg of Caesaroni, the fairest and most wizardly dragoness to ever grace the earth. But that is not all! Then, Jamie imagined, he would rock on the tips of his twiggy bird toes and flit to perch on her knee. He would tip his head back and stare her in the eyes, willing her to accept his offer. You, Jamie, have been chosen to hatch and tame this very dragon. You, Jamie, will bond with this little wyrmling before he breaks the wall of the lifegiving shell that cradles his unborn body. You, Jamie, will be the nursemaid and friend of Caesaroni’s daughter–nay, the companion of the only daughter of the great Caesaroni!

Jamie’s fantasies of the magnificent Caesaroni and her critter messenger, however, were rudely shattered. At the height of the daydream–just when she was working herself up to accept the chickadee’s offer and set out on her quest–shouting reached her ears. The teenage girl sprung to her feet.

“Oh, shoot!” Jamie cast a wild glance over her shoulder. “Dang it. Dang it.” She broke into a sprint, crashing through the woods on the opposite side of the clearing. The voices got closer. She could hear what they were saying. Rather than face her personal problems, she would have faced arrows and swords and shields and magical elixirs any day. Give me elves and dragons and hobbits and kelpies and o’rants. Send me on a journey to find the Golden Shield and protect it from hobgoblins. Anything mystical. Just keep my parents out of it!

“Jamie! Jamie! Please come back!

Tears started to run down Jamie’s cheeks. She almost turned around then and there. But her prideful resolve to make her parents pay for the grief they had caused her kept her steady. Like Balaam’s donkey refusing to pass the angel, she balked before the idea of humbling herself and returning to her guardians. Why should she stoop that low? Why do I have to be the one to be sorry? They’re the ones who hurt me, she reasoned with herself. I have the right to stay away for a bit. She glanced back and tripped over a root. With a muttered curse, she caught herself and kept going. Brittle branches scratched at her like claws, tearing at her ponytail and yanking small hairs out of the 'do. It’s hot, but I’m glad I wore something thick, she caught herself thinking. It’s keeping my skin from getting pulverized.

Although Jamie was fast, her pursuers were faster. Now, she could hear their feet crunching the dead leaves. They barreled through the brush behind her, crying all kinds of warnings and begging her to stop running. She was full-on bawling now, bawling like a little baby. If any of her classmates at Half-Gulf High could see her now, they would be screeching with mirth.

Jamie had had enough of the chase. She wasn’t in bad shape, but she was the last person Coach would have picked for the track team. Her body was accustomed to a soft life of reading in beanbags and trotting down nature trails at a leisurely pace. This abrupt entry into the world of hundred-meter dashes and marathons felt like it was killing her. Every one of her muscles screamed at her to stop. Jamie could almost hear their garbled pleas for a rest. But she couldn’t rest now! She had come this far. She had to keep going.

With a choking sob, she barreled on towards–what? What was she trying to get to? Where could she go to outrun her parents? Perhaps it would be better to stop. Just stop. Surrender. She would never admit she was wrong, but she could nurse as much sympathy out of her emotional distress as possible. Of course, her parents also wanted her to see a counselor. Dread threatened to overwhelm her at the thought of a squint-eyed doctor in an immaculate white robe eyeing her through black eyeglasses with lenses thick enough to make a blind man see. The doctor would smile and nod her head as Jamie described the world that went on inside her head. The smile would be the kind of sickly sweet, I-would-like-nothing-better-than-to-run-away-right-now smile that the drive-through lady at Chick-Fil-A’ gave cantankerous customers who demanded yet another refund. After the appointment, the lady would send her notes to her assistant. The evil pair would exchange horrified whispers about the insane child they had on their hands and how they had to spread the word (“For the common good,” she could hear the doctor saying.) Cold fear stabbed Jamie in the heart. Then everyone would know that she wasn’t normal.

I can’t turn around! I can’t!

Jamie never got the chance to make a decision. One moment, she was there. The next moment, she fell through a waterfall of blue-green foam that enveloped her in a cocoon of mist and fog.

A box turtle poked his head out of his shell and peered at the empty space where a fifteen-year-old runaway had been.

Jamie raised her head gingerly. The world presented itself to her hazy eyes as a blur of gentle colors. The spot on her cheek that had laid on damp moss was exquisitely cool. She rubbed her eyes, propping herself up on her elbows. Strangely, her formerly aching body felt calm and cool. The silvery moss that pressed into her hips, back, and calves was softer than anything she had ever felt. It was like laying on a cloud–or how it would feel if it wasn’t wet air. Jamie felt around with her hands. The second strange thing that occurred to her was that she wasn’t hot. If she had fallen and hit her head–which she assumed was the case—why was she instantly recovered from her desperate run through the forest? If she had injured herself, why didn’t her head hurt? Instead of a piercing headache and throbbing joints, she felt as good as she had ever felt in her life. Even her heart felt calmer. She stretched into a starfish pose, making a snow angel on the downy vegetation. Jamie felt instinctively that she was safe. Her eyes, looking upward, saw the tops of trees. A delicious thrill enveloped her. The trees, although similar, were certainly not all trees. The familiar green hues of the pines, oaks, and elms in the woods behind Jamie’s house were replaced with a glorious display of teals, slate grays, silvers, whites, and ocean blues. The light was not coming from the sky. In fact, what sky she could see between the boughs of the trees was pitch-black. The light seemed to emanate from somewhere on the ground, casting rippling white shadows on the canopy of life. The teenager took a deep breath, inhaling the breeze blowing gently over her. An unfamiliar tang greeted the back of her nose, curling down the back of her throat and filling her head with freshness.

Jamie’s heart skipped a beat. This was not her world. She was somewhere else entirely.

With that realization, Jamie’s mind kicked into hyperdrive. She pressed her head farther back into her mossy pillow, hunting greedily for signs of life. Was she still on Earth? Was she in another dimension? Had some magical gateway–invisible, of course–transported her to another universe? Or another planet? Unsatisfied with simply examining the forest from the ground, Jamie sat up quickly. She had to find out more.

With cautious hands, she explored the surface of the nearest tree. Her feet stepped on and over its roots. Its branches shivered, swaying back and forth. A gilded teal leaf brushed her shoulder lightly as it spiraled down from a top that seemed to touch the black sky. Noise was everywhere–hissing talk that seemed to come from the wind in the leaves. There was something about the hiss that made her blood warm, and her heart feel a sense of–what? What was that feeling? Bewilderment entered her curiosity. The thirst to understand where she was and why she was there was becoming almost unbearable. Jamie stepped away from the solitary tree and surveyed its fellows. All the trees were of a similar make, but with eye-pleasing variations that made each one unique. Some reminded Jamie of willows; others of sequoia-sized palms with blue-green leaves. Ferns bobbed their heads at their bases, reveling in the abundance of silver light that seemed to flow like a stream through the air in their leaves. With a sudden gasp, she noted that wherever the light was brightest, the hissing whisper of leaf on leaf was loudest. She started to walk. All the trees were so much larger than her. Looking up at them was dizzying. She felt like a mouse, or a vole. Perhaps this was how the nest of field mice nesting in their garage must have felt when she turned on the lights and found them cuddled up in her bike basket. Dwarfed; that was the right word. She felt dwarfed by the trees. She felt utterly insignificant at the feet of these botanical behemoths.

With that realization, Jamie’s stomach turned. For the first time since her entry into the world, an unpleasant emotion entered her chest. What was she supposed to do with all of this? She had enough problems of her own, and now she was expected to find her way out of–or accomplish something in–another world. This was too much to ask for. This was ridiculous. Jamie halted, suddenly cold. She plopped down on a thick root and pressed her knees into her forehead. This was…scary.

As she wiped the remains of her last tears from her face, a voice whispered her name. Jamie.

Her head jerked up. “Wha–” She scanned the landscape in front of her. The trees swayed sedately. The white light flowed through the treetops peacefully. The wind sighed in the canopy. Jamie, the voice repeated. The teenage girl listened, frozen to the spot. Was an invisible person speaking to her?

My envoys are looking for you.

“Wha-who are you?” Jamie scrambled to her feet, glancing around. The last traces of her first sense of safety evaporated. Her spine crawled as the image of an invisible sword pressed into the small of her back popped into her mind. “What do you want?”

A soft peal of laughter echoed in her ears. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. If that was even possible, that is. It probably wasn’t. There was something both sweet and sad about the voice as it answered, I know you. But you do not know me.

“What’s your name?” Jamie questioned, head spinning. How could it have known her? It had to be bluffing. But wait. Jamie’s blood ran cold. To grab her attention, it had called her by her name.

I have many names, both true and false. Here, they call me the Whisper.

“That’s not an answer,” she protested, frustration bubbling into her voice. “There’s no way that’s really your name.”

Child, I will come to you and answer you myself, the speaker answered. Although gentle, the reply felt like a rebuke. Jamie stared at the ground, feeling like she had crossed a boundary. For now, remain where you are. If you stay, you will be cared for and fed until nightfall. Then I will unveil myself to you.

With these final words, the whisperer fell silent. Jamie waited with bated breath…for nothing. A minute dragged by, then another minute. Nothing happened.

“Seriously?” The teenager groaned, flopping against the tree. She leaned on the smooth, ice-colored bark. “Will someone just tell me what’s going on?” No mystical being appeared to answer her.

Jamie lowered herself to the ground. Trusting her instincts, she decided to follow the whispering voice’s instructions. What could it hurt? She was lost in a strange world with no communication, no food, and no water (not to mention spare clothes and cosmetics). Perhaps the speaker would help her.

Between two of the tree’s roots, there was a promising dimple in the earth that looked like it would be comfortable to lay down in. She crawled on her hands and knees and curled herself into a ball. The hard backs of the roots pressed gently against her legs and shoulders. More of the silvery moss cushioned the rest of her body. She closed her eyes. The thought of meeting the owner of the voice intrigued her. A queer feeling wormed its way up her spine as she mulled over what it had said to her about its name. “You have already heard one of them in my realm.” What could it possibly mean? She racked her brains ferociously for any name she had come across in real life that would match the owner of a disembodied voice in another world. Unsurprisingly, no match presented itself. It has to be telling the truth, she caught herself thinking. Why? Why should it be telling the truth? She pressed deeper into her consciousness but found no objections she could raise. This blind acceptance troubled her. Normally, she liked to question every possible fact with sharp vivacity. But something in her gut told her that she could trust this person–whoever he or she was. This was a new feeling.

Jamie’s stomach growled. Suddenly, she realized how hungry she was. When was the last good meal she’d eaten? A throb of loneliness worked its way into her empty stomach. She nibbled her lower lip impatiently. When was something going to happen?

“Permit me to disturb your slumber, honored guest,” a whiskery, bubbly voice said very close to her ear. Jamie’s eyes shot open. She pressed her hand to her mouth, stifling a loud shriek. A giant animal—if you could call that intelligent beast an animal—was standing over her. The creature was extremely plump. She was covered with luxurious white fur that looked slick as a duck’s feathers. Her tiny round ears, glittering black eyes, and short snout reminded Jamie of an otter she had once seen in the zoo. The creature gave a low bow, its face nearly sweeping the ground. Astonished, Jamie clambered to her feet.

“Th-th-thank you, ma’am,” she stammered, feeling her cheeks redden in a telltale blush. As usual, she was fumbling and stumbling over the simplest social situation. Why had she called the otter-creature ma’am? It probably didn’t even know what ma’am meant. What if it thought she was being insulting?

“You’re welcome, dear.” The creature’s mouth quirked at the corners. She beamed at the disheveled teenager. “My, my! I’ve never seen anything quite like you. May I touch that beautiful skin of yours?” She gestured to Jamie’s dirty sweatshirt sleeve, eyes glowing with fascination.

Skin? It took Jamie a moment to realize the otter was referring to her bright green sweatshirt. “Of course,” Jamie said, fighting the urge to giggle. The giant white otter wobbled over to her and, ever so gently, brushed the fabric of Jamie’s sleeve with her fingers.

“This is marvelous,” she breathed. “The colors are so bright…like nothing I’ve ever seen. I had no idea the Whisper made creatures like this.” Real awe filled her beady eyes as she turned her admiration to Jamie’s face.

Jamie felt a huge grin stretch her cheeks. The pleasure of an honest compliment flooded her heart. That was why the mention of the ‘Whisper’ passed over her head. “Thank you so much.” She patted the animal’s hand. “You look marvelous, too. In my world, we have creatures like you, but they’re much smaller and not half as pretty.”

“Not only is your outside beautiful, but your words are extremely kind.” The creature offered her a huge silver paw. Her damp nose twitched with pleasure. “Would you do me the honor of going with me to my camp? I’ve prepared refreshments and a place where you can rest more comfortably. The Whisper wishes to meet you at moonrise.”

“The Whisper?” Jamie’s brow scrunched together. That was the moment the truth hit her like a lightning bolt. She struck her forehead. “He’s the one who called me here.”

“Yes, of course!” The animal bobbed her head up and down. Her expression grew somewhat patronizing as she scrutinized her human charge. “Didn’t you know that? He has control over everyone and everything. I belong to The Whisper, and so does every other living thing. He sent me here to meet you.”

Jamie reached for the creature’s paw. “I’ll come with you to your camp. I’d also love to hear more about The Whisper, but I have a question for you first. What’s your name?”

“My name?” The creature led her by the hand like a small child. “I am Cae.” Jamie choked back a peal of hysterical laughter. “Nice to meet you, Cae.” Caesaroni. Cae.

***

Jamie leaned over the prow of the gilded ship. Cae had guided her down a gulley and onto the banks of a brook that gleamed like liquid fire in the sunlight. Tethered to a sapling at the water’s edge was a gondola-like boat. She had helped Jamie into the boat, which was surprisingly sturdy, and they had pushed off into the flow of the current. The water bubbled and laughed to itself in a merry golden voice. Jamie dipped her head in tentatively–they were traveling at a leisurely pace–and the liquid felt pleasantly warm against her fingers. Something slimy scooted between her pointer and index finger. With a startled gasp, she pulled her hand away. A school of minnow-like fish were darting alongside the ship, leaping from the water and nosing at the surface like miniature dolphins. Would they bite? Jamie studied them closely. They were playing a hopping game. The whole group would float nearer to the bottom while three members would rise to the surface. At the same moment, they would leap alongside the boat, trying to match each other’s arc through the air. As they hit the water, they would wriggle frantically, shaking droplets everywhere. They seemed harmless enough. Jamie draped her hand back in and waited cautiously. Unperturbed, the fish ignored the human appendage. After shifting positions to avoid bumping into her, they continued their leaping game as if nothing had happened.

“Ka, ka, ka, ka-wheel?” cried a bird in the treetops. “Ka, ka, ka, ka-wheet,” responded a bird in the undergrowth. Jamie looked up, trying to catch sight of them. Nothing stirred. What she did see was a mass of metallic rock covered in sparkling green dapples in one of the shortest trees. The creature stretched its long, leathery neck. It gaped its short snout in a yawn, revealing a single pointed tooth. Leisurely, it spread itself against the trunk of its palm. With what Jamie thought was a meow, it gave itself into the arms of gravity and glided on the flaps of skin between its arms. It vanished into the thick, gently swaying undergrowth in seconds.

“Was that a flying turtle?” she gasped.

Cae grinned. She was doing nothing to steer the ship. It was simply trailing along down the stream. She was seated at Jamie’s side. The vessel was just wide enough for the two of them to sit side-by-side. “I’m not sure what you mean by turtle, but the animal you saw was a tertii glider. The species is quite friendly. I know several personally.”

“Oh,” was all Jamie could think of saying. “Makes sense.” She chuckled, feeling giddy. Was this really happening?

Whisper, what kind of world have you brought me to? she puzzled. She’d only meant the question for herself, but he answered in a moment.

This is one of the Thirteen Mortal Realms in your universe.

Jamie darted a furtive glance at Cae. She was humming blissfully, apparently unable to hear the mysterious voice in Jamie’s ears. The Whisper had to be speaking directly into her mind. Because of the way I communicate with my subjects in this realm, they have named it The Realm of Whispers.

Jamie wrung her hands. Am I going insane, or are you real?

That all depends on what you define as sanity. Why do you ask if I am real?

Jamie blushed. I don’t know. I guess I’m just not used to talking to people I can’t see.

Suddenly, the ship halted. Jamie lurched forward. They had run aground on an outcropping of pebbles and dirt. The force of the water flow pushed the prow into the sticky mixture. They were stuck.

“We’ve arrived,” Cae announced, hopping out of the boat and clambering onto the shore. “Come.”

Jamie took twice as long to get out (the rocking of the boat as she tried to find a good footing for jumping unnerved her) as Cae. When she was standing with both feet on the land, Cae took her by the hand again and drew her over the top of the small hill that formed the bank's edge. Waiting for them was a small blue fire that spluttered gently in the faint wind. A white otter-creature with a gray muzzle crouched by the flame, poking it with a green twig. At his side, a horse-sized beast with a swan’s head and a cat’s body purred. A sudden wave of shyness washed over Jamie. She fought the urge to stare at the unusual creatures as Cae introduced her. Apparently, the otter-creature was Erl, and the swan-cat was Rulli. Erl and Rulli (male and female respectively) welcomed her amiably. Soon, she was sitting with her legs crossed on the other side of the fire. Her new friends started to bombard her with questions—questions about her realm and how she had gotten there. Jamie answered as best she could. It was amusing to watch the reactions of the mutated animals as they exclaimed over what to humans was ordinary and mundane. Just as she was tiring of responding to their stream of questions, Cae interrupted with the announcement that their food was ready.

The food, which Cae had roasted and prepared without anyone’s notice, was a kind of fruit. Jamie never decided how the fruit tasted. When describing it to herself, she had a hard time saying whether it was sweet or tangy; creamy or rich. Whatever the case, it was crisp and refreshing. After the meal, Cae explained to her that the Whisper would be coming soon and that he would call her when he was ready to receive her. As she spoke, she felt her eyelids growing heavy. It had, after all, been an emotional, exhausting day. Before she had to ask, Rulli got to her feet (she was walking on two legs) and scooped her up like a child. The swan-creature, who was at least seven feet tall, carried her over to a soft patch of some downy fern and laid her to rest. She barely remembered being put down in the nest. All she remembered was the pleasant fluttering of the swan’s heart in her ear and its tender, motherly movements as it drew some of the longer fronds over her weary body. Seconds later, she was slumbering deeply.

***

“Jamie.”

This time, an actual voice and not a mind-spoken whisper roused her from her sleep. Jamie knew before she had time to get up that it was time. A thrill of mingled fear and excitement rushed through her body. She scrambled to her feet. It was time to meet The Whisper and learn why she had been called into this other world.

At first, she didn’t see him. Then her ears picked up a variety of pattering noises—paws? footsteps? in the fern thicket that lay directly ahead. In front of the ferns, a stand of trees blocked her view of what came after. Between the trunks, she could see a white glow punctuated by indistinct cobalt, golden, and maroon shapes. What on earth was she about to walk up to? Images of distorted, many-footed creatures entered her mind as she waded through the ferns. For a moment, she lost sight of the colored objects and the glow. The darkness of the undergrowth pressed into her eyelids as she crept closer, heart thudding in her chest. When she finally emerged from the vegetation and peeked around one tree's trunk, she saw the opposite of what she expected.

It was like that scene in the third animated train-your-dragon movie where Toothless emerges from the forest and sees the Light Fury for the first time. Like Toothless, Jamie paused and stared. A wave of shyness washed over her. A ring of various animals, some like the ones who had taken care of her, thronged around a central figure in their midst. The figure was like a man, but most definitely not a man. His long wavy hair had an elfish look, and his eyes were pale blue. He moved like a swan gliding across water. Feline types with trailing tentacles wove around his ankles. Fluffy white wolves that barely reached his waist tussled in the dust at his feet. A golden snake with four heads rested at his side, forked tongues flickering. A parrot with sea-green feathers and gloriously long antennae preened on his shoulder. He himself was most definitely not human, but she couldn’t place his species. He wasn’t a giant centipede or a freakish alien. He wasn’t an animal, and he walked on two legs. On his head rested a delicate-looking crown woven out of vine.

Just as she was working up the nerve to approach him, he turned from what appeared to be a conversation with the golden snake and looked directly at her. Wonderful. She could feel her knees knocking together. Too late, Jamie remembered that she was not the type to walk up and meet new people. Introducing herself to the talking beasts had felt different. At least they were covered in feathers and fur. Somehow, conversing with them felt more natural. She had always been comfortable with animals. Now she was supposed to go over to this...being...and start a conversation!

“Hello,” she mumbled, feeling more awkward by the second as she crossed the clearing to stand in front of him. The animals’ heads turned, following her movements with curiosity. The snake raised itself off the ground, eyes glimmering with interest. The wolves ceased their play and stared. The parrot cocked its head to the side.

“Greetings.” He smiled at her. It occurred to her that he had a very nice smile.


Some of her nervousness melted away. It felt proper to bow or salute or something, so she dipped a hesitant curtsey. “You...called me?”

“Yes, quite,” he agreed, stroking the parrot’s long feathers. “I altered the time tapestry to bring you here.”

“Time tapestry?”

He nodded kindly. “Tapestry is only a metaphor. It is just a way to picture time in different realms. In the tapestry metaphor, time is envisioned as many strands laid side by side. If a strand crosses over the other, that makes a stitch. Each strand is time in a different realm. Each stitch is a place where the times of the two realms meet. This overlap allows members of one realm to travel to another realm.” Gently, he scooped the parrot’s feet into his hand and tossed it into the air. It fluttered into the treetops. Taking the hint, the other animals started retreating into the undergrowth. The golden snake, however, coiled itself at the Whisper’s feet and remained. “You could say I made a stitch in your path when you were running through the forest in your own world.”

Speechless, Jamie tried to process everything the bizarre being in front of her had just said.

“Why did you bring me here?” she finally asked.

“Why were you running?” he countered.

Jamie shuffled her feet. “I... it’s a long story.”

“Will you tell me?” He moved over to a large silver rock and sat down, looking at her inquisitively. Reluctantly, she climbed up next to him. Out of fear more than anything else (who knew what this strange creature might do if she didn’t open her mouth?) she started to tell him her story. At first, she held back most of the details. To her great shock, she soon found herself spewing her deepest worries, regrets, and fears. She told him about her parents’ divorce, her fractured relationship with her real father, and her emotional pain as she tried to adjust to life with a changed mother and a stepfather. She even found herself mentioning her fear of counselors and how this fear caused issues when she argued with her mom and stepfather about seeing one to help with her anxiety and grief. When she chanced to look at him, she caught sympathy in his expression. Her eyes burned with a sudden onslaught of tears. She held them back, blinking rapidly.

“What about you?” she shot back. “Is The Whisper your real name? Where did you come from? What’s your story?”

The Whisper crossed his legs and propped his chin on his hand, contemplative. A moment of silence passed between them. The golden snake slithered up onto the rock between them. Jamie, naturally afraid of snakes, shuddered. The reptile fixed her with a kind eye before settling itself against her leg. Unlike most snakes, there was heat radiating off its sunny-colored skin.

“My real name,” the Whisper finally said, “is not one for humans to know. In a realm like yours, I was once called Esvian the Birdbearer. In your realm, I am unknown.”

Jamie stared at him blankly.

“You spoke to me of fears and insecurities,” he continued. “You called yourself a sinner.”

“Well, yes,” she said, awkwardly. “I’m not religious, but I know I mess up all the time. Something’s wrong with me that I can’t fix.”

The Whisper—Esvian?---climbed to his feet and spread out his arms like a bird preparing to fly. The landscape around them dissolved into grey water. As the water settled, it reassembled into a stretch of bare ground. Jamie was standing barefoot on the cool, peaty soil. A much larger sun hung in the sky.

A large bird descended from the clouds. The phoenix landed, trailing glorious plumes of red and purple and orange. In its mouth was a small seed. Plunging its beak into the ground, it planted the tiny brown orb. A burst of jubilant song burst from its mouth. A tiny head of curled green leaves poked out of the soil and started to stretch towards the sun. The phoenix pulled another seed out of a pouch hanging at its side and planted it, too. Soon, it was standing in the midst of a rapidly growing forest.

As the trees grew, they swelled with buds of many sizes and colors. Jamie noticed a pattern in the dropping of the buds. After the tree reached a certain height, the bud would fall to the ground. Cracks would appear on the surface, and a heap of ruffled feathers would crawl out. The phoenix flew to each of the baby birds and whistled cheerfully, welcoming them to their first day in the world. Soon the forest was alive with the birds’ chirps, chattering, and squawking. Dainty hummingbirds that could fit on the tip of a pinky zoomed from flower to flower. Resplendent peacocks with feathers that glowed with all the colors of the rainbow strutted, flaring their magnificent tails. Swans arched their necks and basked in the rising sun. The phoenix circled above them all, glorying in what it had set in motion.

Time passed. Jamie felt the soil under her feet wearing away. Rain poured from the sky, freshening the plants and forming little silver streams for the waterbirds to play in. The phoenix taught the birds new songs. He also taught them that they could travel anywhere they wanted, except in the mountains. If they entered the mountains, dire consequences would follow.

More time passed. Jamie enjoyed watching the show of feathery mirth. To her disgust, she saw a swan leave the forest and set off towards the mountains. “Oh, no!” she groaned. “Don’t mess it all up for everyone, you idiot.” She tapped her foot impatiently. The white form grew smaller and smaller. Suddenly, she was at the foot of the mountains, watching the swan look for a landing spot.

As soon as the swan landed, an outraged cry went up from the stones. A storm of black wings and talons and beaks poured out of the nooks and crannies of the mountain. They wheeled around the now terrified swan, which hid its head in its wing. The phoenix, blazing with anger, dove into the swarm and stepped in front of the swan. A short conversation went on between the phoenix and the black birds, which answered in one voice. Jamie fidgeted, anxious.

The scene melted before her eyes. She saw dying and injured birds, which she had not seen in the previous forest. She saw the phoenix returning to the sky and the black birds tormenting the flock it left behind. The birds’ songs became rough and lost their harmony.

A small dove fluttered to a rock and perched, humming. The other birds stiffened and turned in its direction. It piped one of the phoenix’s songs. Every bird stopped to listen. It looked around, pleased, and chirped, as if to say, “Sing with me!” As it sang, some birds fluttered down near it and tried to copy its notes. Other birds grew angry, fluffing themselves up and clacking their beaks. The dove’s small choir grew. The raptors and larger birds had had enough. With a furious shriek, a red-tailed hawk swooped down and snatched the dove in its talons and tossed it from its perch. As if the hawk’s rage had broken a spell, the other birds began swarming the dove, scratching it with their beaks and tearing at it with their claws.

The teenage spectator shrieked. “Stop it, stop it! What can it do against all of you?” The crazed flock ignored her, instead hiding the dove in their insanity. As the birds attacked, something strange started to happen to them. They became almost human. The dove curled itself into a ball and pressed its knees into its chest, crushed under the weight of the taloned hands, battering wings, clawed feet kicking, scratching and striking it. When the birds finally drew away, they left a corpse marked by a thousand talons and beaks. As if by magic, the black birds started to patter down from the trees like rain, covering the body. Jamie turned away as they began stripping it, picking the meat from the bones like vultures. The sun rose again. This time, they turned and saw the phoenix, standing in the place where the dead dove had been. The birds crept out of their hiding places with lowered heads to greet it. No black birds followed. Jamie saw the crow-like scavengers thronging back to the mountains.

With a question on her lips, she turned to Esvian. “Why are you showing me this?” she asked.


“You believe you are broken?”


“Yes,” she murmured, unsure why he was pushing this point. 


“The black birds,” he explained. “demanded a sacrifice for the order the swan had broken. The swan and the birds were cursed by death and injury and grief until the phoenix rescued them.” Fidgeting with the clasp that fastened his cloak at the neck, he detached it. “As was in that world, is it in yours.” He pulled back the fabric, exposing some of his chest and shoulders. Etched in his perfect skin were the scars of a thousand tiny marks- a thousand scars where beak and claw and avian violence had torn rivers of pain. “The pattern has been the same since the world began, Jamie. A world is created, and a world disobeys its creator and falls under a curse. Disaster follows. Then a rescuer comes.”


“But… what does this have to do with me?” Jamie whispered, mind spinning.

“Your world, Jamie, has forgotten its story,” Esvian said quietly. A tear slipped down his cheek. He reached for her hands. “I want you to go home and tell it.”

Clubs are available for all High School students at NorthStar Academy. To join the Creative Writing Club or other clubs, go the “General” channel in the High School Building of NorthStar’s official Microsoft Teams server and locate the “Campus Map” tab at the top. Scroll down to the club section to find the join codes.

👤NSA People, 🖋️Creative Writing, 🏘️Clubs, 🎉NSA EventsEIC NSA2024-2025, December 2024 Publication