book2

Contents Chapter 1 ................................................................................................................................................ 3 Chapter 2 ................................................................................................................................................ 3 Chapter 3 ................................................................................................................................................ 7 Chapter 4 ................................................................................................................................................ 8

Chapter 1 Fireflies lit the fields of cattails and led a trail to the stone-filled road. Fog cast down across the fields towards a clearing. The sun’s rays opened the misty air and shined light down on a tower built of smooth white brick. Atop the tower hung a collection of silver bells which one could view under the hanging dome of the tower. Swallowed by the shadows in the tall tower’s top nook, a frail-figured fairy with wispy wings yawned. She kicked her feet forward as she stretched. Her arms reached to the rising sun and her gaze shifted to the shining bells. With a flick of her fringe, she hopped to her toes. Her wings dripped glittering dust as she extended them. She jumped and hovered mid-air: her gentle-flapping wings keeping her elevated. Her hands, small and plush like a cat’s paw, tapped onto the smallest of the silver bells. It chimed sweet like a newborn bird’s call. And the string in which the bell hung began to vibrate. One by one, the bells shook and sang. They each danced and twirled on their own: creating an upbeat melody. The fairy laughed. The sound of bells spread down to the clearing below and further along the stone-filled road. At the far end of the trail stood a wide and winding dwelling made of red-stained wood. Stairs poked out from the building's outer walls leading to bolted doorways. Atop the dwelling sat another domed tower that shined with silver light. Squinting to the far tower, the fairy spotted another like her: they locked eyes and waved. The far tower too filled the fields and clearing with cheery jingles. The fairy smiled. A brisk wind brushed her fringe from her face. The scent of the air filled her nostrils and her eyes widened. She glanced past the moss-covered walls to a cloud of billowing grey smoke far above the canopy of trees. Her smile faded. Chapter 2 Dancing along to the ringing bells, children ran through the wood dwelling’s paneled archway. Their feet, long like a hare, stomped onto the glossy flooring. They could see their reflections under their feet: tall and slender forms with long floppy ears. Each were adorned in a loose-fitted burlap tunic and knitted slacks that were taut at their ankles. On their backs sat bustling sacks tied with rope. The sun’s light bled through the windows, sending flecks of soft hues past the colored glass. The main hall of the room stretched to two winding staircases and three sets of door stood along the path. As the pattered steps grew closer, the doors swung open. Children broke from the herd and scattered through the doorways. The bustling hall, in a matter of moments turned still and quiet. All but for one last pounding of hare-like feet. She wore the same uniform as the children before her and carried the same rope-tied sack. Her hair, blonde like the morning sun, hung in two tails and swayed down to her tailbone. With her clawed hand, she brushed the strands from her tanned face. She had wide ovular eyes with deep blue flecks shrouded by

bushy lashes. Her steps were staggered as she stood in front of an open door. She gulped in a breath of air as she put one foot forward. Through the doors, the young girl glanced at the rows of polished desks. The other children hopped and fidgeted in their seats. They tossed balled-up parchment to each other, shuffled through their sacks, and sang along to the tune of the silver bells. The girl forced a smile as she passed through the crowd to a seat in the back row. At the front of the room, a board of clay stood from floor to ceiling. Round symbols were carved into it. The girl squinted as she read; she knew they meant, ‘Environment Discussion.’ It was both the topic that meant the most to her and the one she dreaded to speak on. She pulled woven parchment from her rope-tied sack and set it down onto her desk. The letters were scribbled outside of any alignment, but to her, they made sense. Highlighted phrases and wiggled arrows filled the page; there was much she wished to express and she struggled to organize her thoughts. A tall lanky woman with long floppy ears and a high-buttoned dress stood at the front of the class. Her lips were pursed tight and her eyebrows scowled as she gazed into the sea of frantic children. She blew into the whistle hung around her neck and the crowd halted. They tripped as they rushed to their seats and folded her hands onto their desks. The woman smiled as she held an open palm into the air; her amber eyes glowed. From her palm, a circle of burning light grew. It flickered and the form took shape: wispy wings and a small slender body. The woman lowered her hand as the fairy flew to the clay board. It tapped its small paws onto the symbols and they contorted. The words read, “Sunlight’s News.” With a high-pitched giggling voice, the fairy spoke, “Good morning, class! The sun rises and welcomes you a break from the dark night. But it will certainly be no break from your studies.” The students were silent but the teacher laughed. They didn’t share the same sense of humour. “Today is the last day of our environmental discussion. Three students have yet to give their presentation and we all look forward to the insight that each of our findings will give. And on that note, we remind everyone again to not travel near the forest as the Wildfire rages on. Fear not, the director has everything under control. It is because of him that we are awarded such luxuries.” Stepping forward, the teacher slid her hand against a tall metal case by her desk. The children perked up from their seats to view the mysterious object. Its chrome siding reflected light and sent beams through the room. Their eyes filled with wonder. All save for the girl at the back of the class. Her hands trembled as she sifted through her notes. “The good director has bestowed a gift onto us all,” the teacher announced.

She flicked the latch on the case and it sprung open, releasing a fog of glowing lights. They sparkled with shifting chromas and floated through the air. The children’s smiles widened and they were overcome with glee. But as they were enamored with the sparkling lights, the teacher reached into the crate. She held a bundle of long flat objects with a glossy surface that showed the reflection of all in front of it. While her eyes glowed once more, the light in her palms appeared once more and the mysterious object began to float into the air. Their trajectory spread and each landed at the desk of every student. The children looked at the foreign object and then back at the teacher. She nodded to them and they tapped their fingers against the glossy surface. It lit up, displaying images and symbols. The children gasped as they watched the images on the screen move in front of them. “What is this magic!?” a child cried. But the teacher only laughed, “It’s human magic: a tablet, a magical device that plays moving images and sounds.” A shrill beeping escaped from the speaker of one of the tablets. The children gasped again. “After the mid-day meal, I will be teaching everyone of all of the features that the tablet can do. But first, let’s finish up the last of the presentations.” The fairy nodded, taking the teacher’s words as her cue. She flew to parchment of names that hung on the wall by the clay board. Many were crossed out, all but three. Wiggling her nose, the fairy turned to the class and called out, “Greta!” The girl at the back of the class sighed. She held her notes in her shaking hands as she stood. As she made her way to the front of the class, all eyes were on her. She gulped and raised her paper to block her face before she began. “For… for my report, I wanted to tell a story. It’s called, ‘The House is on Fire’.” The teacher scribbled notes onto parchment while the sleepy-eyed children yawned and tapped on their tablet screen. Greta sighed. “There once was a human family that lived in a beautiful house. It wasn’t a castle with spiraled towers or a palace with endless gardens. It was a small home that gave them everything they needed: shelter, nourishment, warmth, and love.” The sound of quills scratching distracted Greta. She froze. The children tilted their heads and stared at her like hungry owls. As frightened as she felt, Greta knew she had to tell her story. She cleared her throat and continued.

“But, as much as the home tried to show it’s love by providing the humans with everything it could give… they gave it no love in return. They pummeled the floorboards, struck the walls, and littered the rooms with piles of waste. And it was all but the youngest child who pleaded, ‘Please, our home is what provides us with everything, we must protect it at all costs.’ But the rest of the human family laughed.” Greta noticed eyes perk up from the tablets to her. All save for the teacher stared intent, fixed on every word she spoke. She shook, but spoke again. “And- and so, one day, a fire started in the house.” The children gasped. The teacher groaned. Greta raised her voice and read on. “Because of the trash that had accumulated, the fire spread quick. In moments, the entire home was engulfed in flames. The human family were able to escape, but as they looked back, they saw their home burning to the ground. They had, then, no shelter, no nourishment, and no warmth. Because the house was no longer there to provide them with its love.” Greta paused. She blinked and her audience blinked back. Before the teacher could say a word, a round of applause burst from the children. They smiled wide and whistled. Greta blushed and bowed before them. The teacher’s sigh broke the cheering, “Miss Greta. The report was supposed to be about the environment. What is the point of a fantasy?” Her hands shook, but Greta cleared her voice, “It’s… based on what’s happening in our own environment. The forest is our home. It gives us shelter, nourishment, warmth, and love. Why must we let the Wildfire destroy it?” Murmurs whispered through the children. They were silenced as the teacher slammed her palm to her forehead. “Greta, dear,” she said, “I’ve taught this. You should know better. The director handles the forest and he is in full control of the Wildfire. It harvests magic and allows us to use devices like the tablets before you.” Her voice was a whisper, “But...” The teacher crossed her arms, “Are you challenging my authority?” Greta shook, “N-no. But this is important! The forest shrinks by the day and there’s no end in sight. What do magical devices matter if we no longer have a home in which to live?” “40% effort. Your report was unsatisfactory,” she nodded to the fairy, “Call on the next student.”

Feet planted into the ground, Greta spoke, “Please! Before it's too late! We need to stop stripping the forest of its magic!” The teacher waved her hand and shoed her away like a bothersome fly, “Begging will never improve your grade. Please take your seat. Unless, would you wish to have detention?” Greta shook her head and returned to her seat. The children’s eyes locked onto hers. They snuck gestures of praise behind their backs and whispered to her, “Good job. Your report was great.” Greta smiled. She had a burning notion that not everyone would listen to what she had to say. After all, magic was adored by all. She placed her head onto her desk. As disappointed as she was, Greta knew she couldn’t give up now. She would never let the home she loved be destroyed. Chapter 3 Her eyes gazed out the window. The Wildfire burned on. She rolled her spoon against a pile of fresh green peas and squished them into her plate. Greta wanted to make a difference, but right now, she felt powerless. She sat alone at a small round table by the window. Leafy potted plants were all that gave her company as she chewed her mid-day meal. The report in her sack was shredded to bits. She felt like a fool for believing that her story would change anyone’s mind. With all of the gifts that the director bestowed, what reason had anyone to protect the forest? She sighed. Though, as she sat at her shaded space in the corner, a group of children approached her. Greta darted her eyes away. She assumed it must be a mistake if they wished to speak with her. But five students from her class gathered around her and waved, “We really liked your story, Greta!” Raising her eyes to meet theirs, Greta choked on air. She sensed no malice in their words or smiles. But she struggled to believe that anyone truly understood the words she spoke. “Do… you trust what I say? That the forest must be protected?” A tall boy wearing a thick braid beside his fluffy ear spoke, “We don’t want our home to burn. The human magic is fun, but we don’t need it if it costs us the forest.” Tears welled up in Greta’s eyes. At last, someone had listened to her pleas. She stood and turned to her five classmates. She wrapped her arms around them. Their hands patted her back; the tears fell down her cheeks. Greta looked up at them, “Thank you. You’re all wonderful. But… would you all truly be willing to help me save the forest?”

The tall boy laughed, “If you want to be the leader, we’ll follow.” She stared out the window towards the Wildfire. Her eyes squinted. There was no time to waste. With this many people, they were sure to make a difference. And she had dreamed of many plans to combat the engulfing flames. “We’ll meet behind the east tower. Don’t let the teachers see you. Bring as many runes as you can,” Greta smiled, “I believe we can do this.” Chapter 4 The perimeter of the schoolyard was surrounded by a tall brick fence covered in overgrown vines. In the far corner sat a gate with a flimsy lock that exited towards the forest outskirts. A songbird’s sweet voice billowed through the trees. Greta looked up towards the stone-stippled tower: the tall boy had raised his hand high and gave the signal. A short girl with a fluffy bun took a straight pin in her hands and fiddled with the gate’s lock. Slowly, she slid open the gate door and peered through. She whispered, “Four guards. One by the toadstool puddles and three patrolling the trails.” Greta held her hand to her chin, “We’ll take the far west trail. It’s the quickest to the Wildfire.” “Harris.” Greta called as she turned to the tall boy, “Your job is to distract the guards and lure them back to the market square.” Smiling wide, he pushed through the gate and ran straight towards the trees. “Halt!” a guard yelled. Harris held two runes high and clapped them together. Mist billowed from them as they cracked in half. Shrouded in a thick fog, the five students rushed from the schoolyard and towards the west. Greta looked back at Harris as he ran. He was their school’s best athlete; if anyone could keep the guards busy, she trusted him. The crew traveled on and soon they were engulfed by the thick branches and darkness of the forest. The mist was still fading; they had only the sound of cawing birds and rustling leaves to guide their way. And most of all, the scent of burning. The children began to sweat as they neared the Wildfire. Greta’s eyes widened and illuminated by the sight of five-meter high flames. Each of the students halted and stepped back. Their bravery was waning at the sight of the towering flames. “This is it! Prepare your water runes!” Greta shouted.

They hesitated, but each of the students pulled handfuls of sparkling azure stones from their sacks. The flame heated their tiny faces and sent flakes of ash into their hair. Greta stood in front to lead the pack; she smiled. This was the moment they’d save the forest she thought.