February 2014
Midnight Writers
Table of Contents Cover: “A Rose by Any Other Name,” a photo- Page 10: graph by Aries
This Page: Japanda3
“The Beauty of Nature,” a poem by Anastasia “Horizon de Mar,” a photograph by Suzy-chan “Icy Glare,” a photograph by “Hydrogen,” a photograph by Suzy-chan
Page 3: Ask Aphro & Dite
Sorry, but there will be no Ask Aphro & Dite this month
Calypso’s Island
Page 11: “The Secret,” a short story by Buckbeak “The Proposal,” a photograph by Junius Maltby and Nike
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“The Future,” a poem by Athena The new Lady of the Underworld shares thoughts on un- “Reflection Moment,” a photograph by Suzy-chan healthy relationships “Soft Florence,” a photograph by Suzy-chan
Echo’s Echo
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The lovely nymph invites Helios to talk about Aphrodite’s “Acknowledging Life,” a short story by RisingSun “little” fling “We are What We Hide,” a photograph by Junius Maltby and Caspian’s Corner Nike Miracle, 2004
Hunger Games: Catching Fire, 2013
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Page 14:
“The Last President,” a short story by Poseidon
Page 15:
“The Cold Never Bothered Me Anyway,” a photograph by Khushana Chaudhri “The Ocean’s Child,” a short story by Calypso “Frozen Heart,” a poem by Bandersnatch “Let It Go,” an illustration by Aceso “Yes, I Wanna Build a Snowman,” a poem by BAD WOLF “The Ocean’s Child,” continued “Eleanor,” an illustration by Hecate
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Page 5:
“Grace in Darkness,” an illustration by Raven “Innocence,” a poem by Bellum “The Question of Innocence,” a poem by Exodus
Page 6: “Darling, Love Yourself,” a poem by Anastasia “Roses are Red,” a poem by Calypso “The Last Rose,” an illustration by W1tchHunter64
Page 7: “And For the First Time,” a poem by Echo “Sometimes Darling,” a photograph by Junius Maltby and Nike “Confession,” a poem by Athena “The Secrets of Simplicity,” a poem by Vivan Griselda “Cupid at Play,” an illustration by Daisuki
Page 8: “Beauty Is,” a photograph by Junius Maltby and Nike “Missing Pieces,” a poem by Bandersnatch “Phenophailin,” an illustration by Hecate “Beauty,” a poem by Circe
Page 9: “On Benedict Cumberbatch,” a rant by Hades “Azure Soul,” an illustration by Japanda3
midnightwriters.webs.com midnightwriters2014@gmail.com
Echo’s Echo
Calypso’s Island
Whaddup, Midnight Writers! Happy belated Valentine’s Day to you all! Hope it was filled with love, love, and more love…unlike mine… sigh. Ahem. Anyway, today we have a very special guest with us today at Echo’s Echoes. His name is Helios, and he’s here to reflect on something in honor of the month of love. “Hello, everyone. It’s Helios, your sun god, the one who watches over the earth and can see every little thing you’re doing at every single moment of the day. Yeah, um, hello. Moving on, sorry to put one of your columnists on the spot, but I remember when I caught Aphrodite and Ares together when they, er, shouldn’t have been together. Aphrodite, you’re gorgeous beyond words. There’s no question about that, dear. You outshine everyone in every way. And I know Hephaestus isn’t the most attractive and charming person in the world, but he is your husband after all! Even though it wasn’t by your choice…he still is! Zeus had good intentions for you, OK? Daddy’s instincts. But the least you could do is file for divorce or something before eloping with another man. Plus, Hephaestus is a pretty cool guy if you ask me. Ares is kind of a jerk at times too. Anyway, back to the point. I know it’s easy to get swayed by the tremendous amount of beautiful women there are in the Greek world. But since it’s Valentine’s Day and all, we should all remember to pay some extra attention to the one special person in our lives. And even if you’re alone on a day like this, it’s okay! Find love in the smallest things, like your friends, family, food, fish, frog, and so on. Love makes the world go round. Just kidding, the sun does. But anyway, make the most out of this day! I’ll be off, so good day to everyone! Look out for me while you’re watching the sunset!” Aw, wasn’t that moving? If only I had a special someone to celebrate Valentine’s Day with…oh wait, I have you readers! Haha, that was very cheesy, but you guys are very special to me, so thank you dears. I’ll see you next
Happy belated Valentine’s Day! Even though most people focus on romantic relationships on Valentine’s Day, it’s important to remember that there are many different kinds of love-love of brothers, sisters, friends, the list goes on and on. However, a dear friend of mine has been focusing on the romantic kind lately, so I thought I’d share some thoughts on the tale of Echo and Narcissus. She was a lovely nymph without a voice; he was a self-obsessed man who believed no one was worthy of his beauty. Of course, things didn’t go too well. The Greeks said she withered away in a cave, but that’s because my sisters and I found her there before they could check up on her again. We took her to the Garden of the Hesperides and fixed her up before we gave her a serious talk about love. Unfortunately, Valentine’s Day seems to have made some old feelings bubble up to the surface, so let me just say: A relationship where one person is completely enamored with the other without any reciprocation is not healthy. Allow me to repeat-NOT HEALTHY. As much as Echo was obsessed with Narcissus, Narcissus was even more obsessed with himself. No matter how many times Narcissus spurned her advances and treated her cruelly, she would make excuses for him. That is not the basis of a good relationshipthat is the basis for an abusive relationship, and no one should pine for that kind of person to be in his or her life. Besides it being dangerous, let me list several reasons why it would be horrible to date someone who’s extremely self-obsessed. For starters, he’d never let you get a word in. And if he did let you talk, it would only ever be about how great he is or whatever he’s been doing lately. Second of all, if you went on a date, it would have to be somewhere with mirrors everywhere so that he could constantly admire himself. Basically, you’d have to go to a house of mirrors for every date, and I can’t think of many worse locations for a date. Thirdly, he’d never let you hug him or hold his hand because he’d be too disgusted with your not-being-himness to let you that close. All in all, I cannot think of a worse person to date. Echo, believe me, there are tons of nymphs and gods and goddesses out there who love and care about you; you just need to rip off the blinders that are your obsession with Narcissus to see them. But really, my dear reader, there are so many places where love exists that it would be a shame to narrow your focus to romantic relationships. So take a look around, because love isn’t restricted to Valentine’s Day either. Until next month, my loves, farewell.
Ask Aphro & Dite Unfortunately, there will not be an Ask Aphro & Dite this month. We’ve been facing several technical difficulties, but Aphro and Dite will return next month to answer your questions. We apologize for the inconvenience. To submit questions to Aphro and Dite, please email askaphrodite2383@yahoo.com. They will remain anonymous!
Caspian’s Corner
Miracle, 2004 Hello, and welcome back to Caspian’s Corner. Since you probably haven’t had enough ice or snow-related items to fill your day, it’s time to review one of the best sports movies ever. Many of us were not able to witness the 1980 Winter Olympics’ “Miracle on Ice”, which remains one of the 80’s few lasting positive contributions to society. Fortunately for us, Disney’s classic almost-documentary captures the emotional highs and lows of the 1980 U.S. National Hockey team without being overbearing or cheesy. You can’t help but root for the team, hockey fan or not. It’s the ultimate underdog story, (cliché warning) and everyone loves an underdog. Hunger Games: Catching Fire, 2013 Was it the most talked about movie of the year? Probably. Was it the most successful? Well, in dollar terms, yes. Was it a truly great film? Well… Before I set off a firestorm, Catching Fire was an enjoyable watch. The acting was much improved from the serviceable (and much-maligned) acting of the first installment. The pacing was fairly smooth. The intense scenes were actually intense. I even enjoyed the musical score. Unfortunately, the movie falls into an alltoo-common trap: it doesn’t know what it wants to be. There was no central focus or theme; while the movie didn’t omit any of the fantastic book’s plot points, it lacked the nuances and themes so integral to the book’s success. The movie probably deserves all the accolades it has received, bar one: it will never match up to the book. It may be an unfair comparison, but it is a comparison that must and will define any book-tomovie adaptation.
Special thanks to Sra. Steele, Calypso, Echo, The Owlish Bookworm, Bandersnatch, and Hecate
Yes, I Wanna Build a Snowman By BAD WOLF
Yes, I wanna build a snowman. I wish that you could know How much I miss you, I really do, But Dad said no. When I can control it, I’ll come out the door I promise the day will come soon. Frozen Heart
“The Cold Never Bothered me Anyway,” Photograph by Khushana Chaudhri
When we can build a snowman.
By Bandersnatch the cold trapped
I really wanna build a snowman
within her that she must keep inside
within her begins to freeze her soul because keeping the
Yes, I wanna build a snowman.
in fear of hurting
storm
But my powers are too dangerous
others
inside her fragile
For us to play, so it’s just you
but what about herself?
heart will break it eventually.
there is ice flowing
I know you’re lonely, too
I hope you know I’m sorry For all those years alone, But what are we gonna do? I wish we could build a snowman. I really miss building snowmen.
Yes, I wanna build a snowman But now’s just not the time With Father gone, it’s even worse I can’t control this curse, can’t let you in I’m sorry I can’t be there But it’s not safe for you Until I control this storm One day, we’ll build a snowman 4
“Let It Go,” Illustration by Aceso
“Grace in Darkness,” Illustration by Raven
Innocence By Bellum Innocence Taken away by the whispering, snickering voices Pointing out all of her flaws Making her insecure Causing her to look down as she walked by With no confidence Innocence Lost when the outside voices became voices insider her head Internalizing everything Innocence Crushed when she could no longer form coherent thoughts The voices were too loud The insecurity was too much She slowly lost her sanity Innocence Gone forever.
The Question of Innocence By Exodus Falling softly like crisp snow, words spoken true Young eyes look at a planet, through them born anew Comes a world full of innocence and child-like wonder A place that is unbroken, whole, no earth wide asunder Past mistakes are forgotten, erased from the mind Old scars and prior flaws no longer may bind A universe that tears and claws at my sanity Forget the past, restore the virtue and purity In the soul of the youth comes great light May the oppressors of the pure come contrite Is it time for a new world, a new page? No, this is no time for a revolution, a new age Just look to your neighbor, remember old times When time was passed with pleasant nursery rhymes A fresh frame of mind, learn from a child That evil is evil, no matter how mild That responsibility is not a burden, but a present A time to prove yourself, and perhaps learn a lesson The weight of the world is unwieldy and burdensome
Take the weight from your back and share it with someone Remember a time when pride was no issue When people would return with a simple “I miss you” I see you struggle, and I struggle alongside The notion of revenge and the need to repay in kind Drop your burden, weary traveler, it may finally end All the trouble, the worry, it cannot contend With the bliss of that childish innocence So many mistake it for ignorance But I wish I could just choose to ignore all the pain It seems to be the only thing keeping me sane While I watch everyone torture themselves to madness Why we choose to feel this, I cannot address How much longer we can take, I cannot fathom The ground under my feet forms a chasm Simple means happy, the equation is easy The thought of continuing this way makes me queasy Remember a time not filled with Lust, Gluttony, Greed Wrath, Sloth, Envy, Pride. Try not to concede Together we may start our minds again Bring our seemingly perpetual suffering to an end Let innocence once again claim you Heed my words, for they ring true.
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Darling, Love Yourself By Anastasia Darling, Love yourself, Because if you don’t, Your heart will shatter Into so many pieces As your mind taunts you, Repeating the phrases You’ve always Told yourself. Darling, Love yourself, Because self-hate Will tear you apart, And I know it’s hard,
And it’s so difficult To be happy with Who you are, But do not fear. You’ll get there one day. You’ll shine like A star against the night sky, Glorious and beautiful. Darling, Love yourself, It’s the only way To keep your heart Beating at a steady pace. Make your dreams Come alive and Be inspired By yourself. Train your mind
To reach higher goals Because you are able To achieve them. Darling, Love yourself, Because there are So many copies out there And you’re the one Who stands out. You’re the rainbow After the gloomy weather. You’re the reason For someone’s smile. You’re the reason that Keeps me going after I’ve already given up. So darling, please, Love yourself.
Roses are Red By Calypso
Roses are red, violets are blue. I’d be lying if I said That I didn’t love you. But not all roses are red, some roses are white. You took my hand in the dark And led me into the light. But some roses aren’t white, there are orange ones, too. I still dream of the day When you’ll love me anew. But orange is rare, and some roses are yellow. I suppose, after our fights, We both need to mellow. But yellow roses wither, and up springs the pink. Away from our love, I hope you won’t shrink. But there’s more than just pink, there’s violet and black. With darkness ahead, Our love’s under attack. Black roses are dark, I much prefer red. I’ll stay here for you. I won’t leave you for dead. Roses are red, violets are blue. Here’s my hand for you to hold, My heart is yours, too. 6
“The Last Rose,” Illustration by W1tchHunter64
Confession
And For the First Time By Echo
By Athena
Just one simple look And it is enough for them To realize it
Roses are red They also have thorns
Hearts accelerate And act acknowledging the Destinies entwined
Right now we’re just friends
To take steps closer They must remind themselves how One foot at a time
If you don’t agree Just tell me true.
Because at this point The basics are forgotten Leaving just their hearts
I’ll find a way to get over you.
Beating with new love Spreading through their veins like fire Overtaking them
But if you want to make my day Just give me a head’s up
But I kind of want more.
Come up and say “Hey, You like me, well, I like you.”
And for the first time This unrivaled affection Has appeared to them
And maybe this can be a great V Day for both you and me.
Leaving them speechless Dazed and confused and perplexed But yearning for more
“Sometimes Darling,” Photograph by Junius Maltby and Nike
The Secrets of Simplicity By Vivan Griselda They say first love never really fades, Now I see that the phrase holds its truth. Sometimes I still wish you were up for a trade, Because now we are both free from the act of a sleuth. Secrets were kept far beyond the hills, That slowly attempted to shatter our emotions. Our lies could never seem to pay the bills, Now our relationship travels way past the oceans. With years gone we’ll exchange a hello here and there, But the words will never provide enough to remember. Even though the chaos has decided to be square and fair, I hope you still recall what it was like to play the piano for her. It’s funny to think how that innocence was a root of simplicity, A timid action unravels all of his passion. And that his simplicity revealed a glowing, utter beauty, I’m relieved to know that our love will never be turned to ashes. This silly day reminds me of our fling, And my eyes fail to enjoy the flowers passed around. I watch these couples receive chocolate and sentimental things, It’s hard to admit sometimes I miss that microscopic town. But maybe it isn’t the jealousy that shall grow, Nor the subtle ache that attacks my heart. It’s the fact that you and I are the only two that know, Love isn’t true until you’ve made it far past the start. Happy Valentine’s Day to those who love to feel, For you might have someone in mind to be chosen. Just remember that if your connection is truly real, Your love will never cease to be bitterly frozen. “Cupid at Play,” Illustration by Daisuki
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Missing Pieces By Bandersnatch she misses the calm, turquoise voice that talked and laughed with her for hours on end about music and books and the meaning of life where there were once seemingly endless late night conversations there is little else but silence. he misses the small, pale hands that held and intertwined “Beauty Is,” Photograph by Junius Maltby and Nike “Phenophailin,” Illustration by Hecate
Beauty By Circe Beauty is what is within, Beauty is it under your skin, Beauty is what you think of yourself and not of others, Beauty is the kindness of your heart and soul, You have no need to pay a toll, Beauty is your kindness and your pure joy, Beauty is your song and how you sing it, Make the world special in your way, That is how beautiful people find their way today. Live your life and find beauty in everything, Live your life, Love your life, Appreciate your life, Remember to take in things as they come because they are beauty, Remember Beauty is what is within, You just need to find it under your skin, And in your kin 8
with his so many times at movie theaters and
on old squishy couches where there were once embraces and entanglements that were never long enough there is little else but distance. they miss the pieces of their puzzle that used to fit so neatly together like they were made for each other and would never fall apart where there was once hope to last forever and wishful thinking there is little else but brokenness.
On Benedict Cumberbatch By Hades Even if you’ve never seen a single show or film he’s acted in, you’ve probably heard his name before. Or some variant of it. Buttercup Cumbersnatch. Blended Cucumber. Basically, BC is a British actor who has in recent years entered global stardom, and with good reason. His acting is phenomenal. I would list why his acting is amazing, but really, you have to see him to believe it. My recommendations: BBC’s Sherlock, Star Trek: Into Darkness, The Fifth Estate, The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug...basically, anything he’s ever been in. Reason number two BC is so famous nowadays: his legion of fangirls. (Commonly known as Cumberbabes.) The thing is, if you’ve never seen his work before, if this was the first time you’ve ever heard BC’s name, if you’ve just Googled his picture for the first time, you’re probably going to think: What? Why would girls like him? He looks so weird! And he does. This fangirl admits it. His face is very peculiar. It’s long, the bone structure is unusual, and it’s far from falling under the bounds of the Golden Rectangle. (The Golden Rectangle is this mathematical thing that explains why we find some faces aesthetically pleasing.) So...why? First of all, BC is an astoundingly talented actor. I, myself, didn’t find him attractive at all when I first heard about him. Then I watched him act in Sherlock, where he plays the title character. Sometime during the ninety minutes of the first episode, something clicked as I watched BC in action as a selfproclaimed high-functioning sociopath, and I realized...wow. This guy really comes to life when he acts. And you can tell how much he loves acting. (Not while he’s acting, of course. During interviews and videos of him in real life, I mean.) Seeing as the majority of his fangirls
hopped on the Cumberwagon because of Sherlock, I don’t think I’m alone; there’s something about watching BC acting, specifically in Sherlock, that won our love. Next, we’re going to circle back a bit and talk about the aforementioned interviews and videos. When you read and watch these things, you realize that BC is kind of a nerd. And it’s awesome. He dances, he sings, he does Alan Rickman impersonations, and he fanboys about other actors. And he’s very human, too. A lot of movie and TV stars try to act cool and I-have-no-flawsworship-me in real life. Not BC. He’s so insecure about his own acting abilities that it’s nigh unbelievable. Seriously, an actor this good and he still takes everyone’s praise with a tinge of skepticism? And it doesn’t seem like false modesty, either. It looks like BC genuinely believes the adoration we ply him with is undeserved. Now for a hodgepodge list of reasons most fangirls like BC: practically everything he says sounds incredibly intelligent. He has a wonderful sense of humor. His kindness is almost palpable. ERMAGAWD THAT VOICE. THOSE EYES. His real-life bromance with Martin Freeman (his Sherlock co-star who plays John Watson) is almost as good as watching a Sherlock episode. So you’ve heard my reasons why most fangirls (or me, at least) like BC, despite the strangeness of his face. (And his face really does grow on you.) Now I shall explain why, if I happen to meet BC or work with him on a film project or some magical fairy offers me a wish, I neither expect nor want to get together with BC in real life. Age difference. BC turned 37 this past July, and he’ll be 38 in less than six months. I’m 18 years old. I think it’s safe to say that I’m out of his desired age bracket for potential romantic partners (which I’m assuming to be ranging from late twenties to around his own age). I wholeheartedly acknowledge that 18
would still be way too close to high school drama and being a minor for his comfort. Also, he’s out of my desired age range, too. For admiration purposes? Any age is fine. But for actual romantic partners? Mid-twenties is pushing it, let alone 37.5. Starstruck. As in, I am starstruck by him. It’s never good in any relationship for one party to have so much more “power” than the other. I’m definitely not saying that BC is the kind of person to take advantage of somebody else’s affections. But this kind of imbalance is just not good for a relationship, period. Just think about it. The fangirl would always accede to what BC wants to do or eat. She would be terrified, deep down, of doing or saying anything to upset him because she doesn’t want to lose him. She would go into the relationship with the expectations of BC being the absolutely most perfect human being on the planet, and those are expectations nobody can ever meet. The aforementioned Cumberbabes. I would hate to share my significant other, and any woman who goes out with BC will have to share him with the public. He’s an actor. His livelihood depends on the public’s love. Also, if you are familiar
with the internet, you may have come across some posts or blogs from people loudly proclaiming their love for BC and how they’re going to marry him or other things that I can’t talk about here. Those people are SCARY. Going out with BC would be the perfect way to earn their wrath. Lastly, as stated in the beginning, BC is now globally famous. He is one of the busiest actors in the world. He’s constantly traveling from set to set, even country to country, because he’s juggling all of his jobs. Adding romance to that mix would not be easy on him or his significant other. So there you have it. My reasons for not wanting to go out with BC, despite the fact that I absolutely love and adore him. But seriously, if you’ve read this entire article and you’ve never seen his acting , stop right now and go rent something from RedBox or iTunes. You’re missing out on a lot. One last note: another one of his fellow Sherlock actors is a lovely woman named Louise “Loo” Brealey. As much as I dislike shipping people in real life, CumberBrealey/Beneloo/ Cumberloo are my OTP. (Come at me, Johnlockers.) “Azure Soul,” Illustration by Japanda3
The Beauty of Nature By Anastasia It begins with Spring, Flowers blossoming And plants transitioning From a hazelnut color To a Granny Smith apple green. Summer arrives soon after, The evergreen saplings And fields of tulips Effortlessly swaying With the warm breeze. Fall flows in, The colorful leaves Bidding their farewells And traveling with the wind While the trees brace Themselves for the cold air. Finally Winter’s snowflakes Nimbly dance onto the ground, Every single one An intricate design, Specially formed by Mother Nature herself. “Horizon de Mar,” Photograph by Suzy-chan
“Hydrogen,” Photograph by Suzy-chan
The Secret By Buckbeak Sammy walked down the street, smiling at the faint breeze and at the way the sun seemed to come out just at the right moment. The honking of the cars and the loud yelling that took place everywhere disappeared when she saw the house. It was an ordinary two story home, placed in the middle of a busy center. It looked like it had been transported from the 1800s; even the sign reading Ms. Cotton’s Home for the Orphans looked like it had been there since the building had been built. Sammy smiled hesitantly before walking up the steps. She’d received a call asking her to come at her earliest availability, but the voice had not given a reason, which made Sammy postpone her visit as long as possible. She took a deep breath before her hand closing on the knocker and slamming it onto the metal plate behind it. Sammy heard voices yelling, “Door!” before a women opened it slowly. “Yes? Is there something you need?” the women asked, her voice as warm as the smile on her face. “I-I received a call from someone from the Home. My name is Samantha Picker.” As soon as Sammy said her name, the old women’s eyes lit up with happiness, and she quickly ushered her inside. Sammy stared at the tall staircase that seemed to go on forever. For Sammy, it was still home, even after all those years away. She quickly followed the old women down the hallway and into the office. The office entrance was in the hall, but the door was nearly hidden from sight. When the Home had been built, the man of the house used the office, so the door was hidden from sight to keep the children and the other residents out. If Sammy still lived in the Home, she would most definitely be roaming around to see if there were any more hidden passageways. The women knocked on the wall before opening the door with one of the wall panels that adorned the bottom of the walls. She whispered into the room before moving out of the way for Sammy to walk by. She slowly popped her head inside of the room, curious to see what was inside of the office. The room had rows of bookcases against the walls. The room itself was small, but it functioned for the old man sitting in front of the old desk. He stared curiously at her, and the women prodded her in the back to push her out from behind the door. Sammy hesitantly stepped in, unsure of why she was there, and the old man spoke. “Hello, Sammy. I am Mr. Ramsbottom. You’re probably wondering what you are doing here; you aren’t in any trouble, but we thought that you might want to know some infor-
mation we recently discovered. What you do with this particular information is up to you; we don’t have any say in it. Why don’t you sit down before we get started?” Sammy wasn’t sure what surprised her the most-the fact that the man was British and had a name like Ramsbottom, or the fact that after so many years, they were able to find something about her past. Maybe even her family. She slowly sat down in the large chair that Mr. Ramsbottom had kept in front of his desk, and waited for him to start talking. He shuffled some papers before speaking, slow and methodically as if every word was going to impact her in a way that she would never know. “You know that you were found on the doorsteps of this establishment but were never adopted. However, you were one of the lucky ones who had a benefactor, someone who looked after you from afar for no other reasons but his own. Unless a benefactor wishes to have his or her identity revealed, you would not know who he or she is. But all of this you know already knew; you were briefed about your benefactor when you found out that you were receiving one, of course. The thing is, we recently received a phone call from your benefactor asking if you could come and visit his home, which is why we brought you down here.” The next couple days were a blur. She got the address of her mysterious benefactor from Mr. Ramsbottom and got the next flight out to go Rockefeller, New Jersey. It wouldn’t be such a surprising thing if it weren’t for the fact that Rockefeller was supposedly where Sammy was born. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to be feeling-excited to meet the one person who cared for her when she was younger, or disappointed that the benefactor only called now, when he was on his deathbed. At least, that’s what Mr. Ramsbottom had said before Sammy left. That was the only reason Sammy even considered going to meet a total stranger-that and the fact that she had some questions for him. When Sammy finally landed, she took a taxi to the address that Mr. Ramsbottom gave her, which landed her in front of a large estate. She nervously walked up the gates and pressed the button. “Yes?” the voice replied. “H-hi my name is Sammy and I-” she replied nervously before he voice cut her off. “Ah yes, please do come in.” The gates suddenly opened. Sammy cautiously walked in. As soon the door opened, the maids gasped and quickly ushered her into the parlor where she sat, waiting for someone to tell her exactly what was happening. “Sammy?” a familiar voice asked. “Evan? What are you doing
“The Proposal,” Photograph by Junius Maltby and Nike
here?” she asked standing up quickly in surprise; she hadn’t expected to see him ever again. “Oh, Sammy, I’ve missed you so much. When you went away, I looked for you everywhere. I ended up here, at your benefactor waiting for you to come back to me. You didn’t even leave a note! Why did you leave?” he said, running up to her and grabbing her hands. Sammy stared at her husband as the memories flew through her head. “Bye Sammy, see you later tonight,” Evan’s voice echoed through the tiny apartment they had bought after getting married. Sammy smiled faintly, but it quickly turned into a frown. “I don’t deserve him. He deserves so much more. How am I even going to be able to bring a child into the world with all of these doubts,” Sammy thought. She had been thinking a lot over the past couple days, and in the end, the same thought ran through her head: I need to leave. I need to find out who I am. She packed the next day and left. “I-” she started to say, but before she could finish, the doors swung open, revealing Mr. Ramsbottom. “Welcome to my humble home, Sammy. I understand that you have many questions for me, but why don’t we sit down first? I see Ms. Cotton-puff has left some refresh-
ments for us,” he said, sitting down and gesturing for Sammy and Evan to do the same. Sammy sat down in shock, staring at Mr. Ramsbottom as Evan slowly sat down next to her, his hands still warm in hers. “Sammy, Evan knew you’d want to know who you were and who your benefactor was. He started to look for your benefactor before you got married, which is why, after you left, he decided to live with me in the hopes that you’d figure out who your benefactor was and come here,” Mr. Ramsbottom said, stirring his tea and watching Sammy and Evan share a loving look. “Now, about you, Sammy. You were born here, in this small town, but at your mother died in childbirth. You were sent to the orphanage, but your father did want you Sammy. However, when he went to the orphanage to get, the caretakers said no because your mother had specifically said, before her death, that your father was not supposed to take care of you. So decided that the best way to still take care of you would to become your benefactor.” Sammy gasped, looking at Mr. Ramsbottom. Evan gently smiled at Sammy and said, “Sammy, meet your father, Mr. Simon Ramsbottom. And you, my dear, are the heiress to his million dollar fortune.” 11
The Future By Athena An idealistic, introvert sapling blossoms into a towering tree whose powerful branches are laden with leaves. Each leaf is inscribed with an idea. When it falls to the ground, someone will pick it up read it - maybe share it hopefully be inspired by it. Words have power – this I know. This is a conviction that I want to be found everywhere. “Reflection Moment,” Photograph by Suzy-chan
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“Soft Florence,” Photograph by Suzy-chan
Acknowledging Life
“We are What We Hide,” Photograph by Junius Maltby and Nike
By RisingSun A girl of pure beauty stared out into the fog. She had a natural and effortless glow that radiated around her. It’s chilly, she bitterly noted as she made hopeless efforts to tug down her shorts. She had eagerly pulled the shorts on that morning, thinking spring would jump out at her today after weeks of hiding behind the disappearing winter. She continued staring into the mist, as if waiting for it to become something else. Silently, a boy appeared next to her, immersed in a piece of paper he was clutching in his hand, his head bent. The girl didn’t notice him at all and merely stared straight ahead of her. Several minutes passed, or maybe a few seconds, but the two maintained their actions. Finally, the boy looked up and his eyes fell on the girl, who was still staring ahead. Her presence took him aback as he thought he was completely alone and gave a yelp of surprise. “Ah!” The girl turned sharply and met his gaze. She shot him a look of anger and disapproval, as though he’d disrupted something very important. He then laughed. “Ha, sorry,” he laughed. “Didn’t notice you there.” She didn’t reply, nor did she look his way. “Um,” he said awkwardly, looking at her. “What are you doing...miss?” he added, with a serious face despite the smile playing on his lips. The girl suddenly felt her muscles relax, she didn’t know why; perhaps it was being spoken to after many hours, or the ease at which he spoke. Surprising herself, she heard
herself reply, “Waiting for something that’ll never show up.” She backed away from the road and sat down on a bench. The boy walked over and joined her, sitting on the other side. She stole a quick glance at him and saw him watching her. He had a relaxed look: a loose t-shirt and jeans, ruffled and messy brown hair, and smiling eyes. She was able to derive so much information about him just from a glance because she was an expert on first impressions. Her impression led her to continue sitting next to him. Meanwhile, he watched her with utmost curiosity at her peculiar behavior. She seemed afraid to look at him. Would she misinterpret him if he asked her to have coffee with him in the café right behind them? “Why do you think it’ll never
show up?” he implored. After a few moments of silence she answered, “It’s my life that I’m waiting for to show up.” The boy let out a snort of laughter. “You’re waiting for your life? You’re joking.” She whipped her face around to face him and asked, “How could I be joking?” “Uh, let’s see,” he answered in mock sarcasm, pretending to think. “Because life isn’t a thing you sit around for; it’s something you make happen.” After a few moments of conversation, the boy understood that this girl didn’t have a life worthy of the beauty her face radiated. And he knew he had to change that. So without asking, he took her hand and led her into the café. “Life isn’t something you wait for,” the boy further explained to
her. “It’s something that happens with every passing moment. And the reason why you feel the need to wait for it is because you don’t embrace it.” He downed his cup of coffee and leaned back in his chair. “Go for it, girl,” he pressed suddenly, still leaning back, crossing his arms. “It’s waiting for you to acknowledge it.” And once again, without asking, he took her hand and they walked outside together. As the girl stepped outside, she noticed birds were chirping, the sun was setting, a boy was riding by on his bike, screaming with glee, cars were rumbling by, and life was happening. He was right, she thought, smiling to herself, aware of his hand on top of hers. Life isn’t something you wait for. 13
The Last President By Poseidon
had several days to prepare. The plan was that I would study my notes on the flight back from New York but clearly, things did not go as planned. My whole life was getting messed up by a trip that only I seemed to remember happening. I needed answers. And as scared as I was, I knew the only way I would get those answers would be to talk to Jones. I picked up the business card, took a deep breath, and dialed. "You've reached the Secret Service headquarters in Washington D.C.," a woman's voice said. "How can I help you?" I looked back at the business card to make sure I had dialed the right number. I didn't know what to say. The only thing I knew was that I couldn’t trust the Secret Service, especially not when their number was on Jones's business card. "Hello? Is anyone on the line?" the lady asked impatiently. "Yes. Hello, my name is… Walter Stanley. I'd like to speak to one of your agents," I said, trying to remain calm, praying that the woman wouldn’t recognize my voice. "What is the name of the agent you’d like to talk to, Mr. Stanley?" A part of me wanted to say Jones. I knew that there had top be a reason why the number on the card was for the Secret Service headquarters. I was about to say Jones' name, but suddenly, I got another idea. "Yes could I speak to agent Jim Daniels please?" Silence on the other end. I knew the lady was still there because I could here her fidgeting with her keyboard. I was about to hang up when the lady started talking. "Yes of course sir," she said. "I will redirect your call to agent Daniels's cell phone." I was ecstatic. This whole time I had been so focused on trying to figure out what had happened that I didn't realize something incredible obvious: If the New York trip never happened, then Jim was still alive. My joy was short lived however. As soon as the lady said she would forward me to Jim's phone, the call got disconnected. I called the number again, only to hear an automated message telling me that the number I was trying to contact did not exist. I called Jim's cell phone and got the same response there as well. All of a sudden, I was right back where I started. Scared, confused, and most of all, tired. I noticed I had an itinerary pinned to the wall, and I saw that my debate was at 7 p.m. I looked out the window and saw that the sun was just starting to peak over the horizon. Exhausted, I lay down on the couch and fell asleep.
Chapter 7 Jones. I read the name over and over again, hoping that somehow it would go away. My head was spinning; a million thoughts were rushing through my head at once. What happened? Did I imagine everything? The trip to New York City? Jim's death? The kidnapping? I was back at home with my wife, so I must have imagined it. And yet, I knew it was real. After all, I had Jones's business card. I had absolutely no clue what was going on; I thought my head was going to explode. It probably didn't help that my wife started screaming. "JOHN!" Sara yelled at the top of her lungs. "What is going on?" Apparently I had been staring at that business card without blinking for five minutes. That, and I had also just told her about the horrible things that happened on a trip that, as far as she knew, was a figment of my imagination. So it's understandable that Sara was a little upset. "Uh... nothing," I managed. "I guess I just had a bad dream." I knew something was wrong. I knew those things had happened, and I couldn't help but worry that Sara and I were in danger. But I also knew it wouldn't do me any good to freak Sara out more than I already had. So I comforted her, and she eventually went back to sleep. I sat down on the sofa in the living room, still trying to make light of what had happened. The memory was so clear in my head; I could still see Jones' face in the darkness. I took out the business card one more time, and I realized that right below his name, written in very light ink, was a phone number-a phone number for Mr. Jones. As scared and confused as I was at the situation, the idea of calling the man responsible for it all was even scarier. I put the card away and turned on the TV, hoping to let my mind escape reality, at least for a few minutes. I turned to the news channel, where a reporter was trying to talk through the screams of what seemed like a million college kids. I raised the volume and what I heard made me jump out of my seat. "Hundreds of students have been waiting in line here outside the auditorium of Green Prairie High School, where Democrat John Rodriguez and Republican Mathew Clemens will have their first presidential debate tonight," the reporter said. "While the event won't start for another 18 hours, students are arriving early, hoping to get their first glimpse of the next president of the United States." Chapter 8 I turned off the TV. When I woke up, someone was I knew the debate was coming up, pounding angrily on the door with but the whole time I thought I still their fists, as if they were trying to
punch right through it. I looked out the window and I saw the one person I wanted to see. "JIM!!" I screamed. "You're alive!" I ran outside and gave him a huge man hug. "Uh... John?" he asked in a confused voice. "What's going on?" I quickly let go of him and pretended as if the hug had never happened. My wife already thought I was crazy. Heck, I was pretty sure I was crazy too. I didn't need anyone else thinking the same thing. "Sorry about that Jim," I managed. "I guess I'm just a little excited for tonight's debate, that's all." "Well it doesn't look like it!" Jim screamed. "The debate is in three hours and you're not even dressed!" I ran inside and looked at the clock. It was 4 o'clock. I had slept for over 12 hours. I ran upstairs, threw on a suit and tie, and said bye to Sara, who was getting ready and told me she'd be right there in the front row when I got on stage. I bolted outside and got in the car with Jim and two other agents, who I immediately asked to ride in the other car. The school was a good fifty minutes away from my house, and I knew this was my best chance to talk to Jim about everything that was going on. For that to happen, I knew I needed to talk to Jim alone. After staring at each other for a good thirty seconds, the two agents complied with my request, and got on the other car. For the first ten minutes, neither of us said anything. Jim looked nervous for some reason, constantly checking his mirrors and looking out the window. I knew something was wrong, but I tried to push it aside. Still, I knew I had to break the silence if I ever wanted to tell him what had happened. "Jim," I said. "Have you ever heard of a man named Mr.Jones?" Jim tensed. "Uh.. no. I don't believe I have. Why do you ask?" He was lying. I could tell by how he said it. Jim had to know something about Jones, and I knew there was only one way to get that information out of him. I took a deep breath and told him everything. I talked about the speech, the man in the crowd, the restaurant, the drive back to the hotel, and the kidnapping. I even told him about his death, but the news seemed to go right through him. One look at his face and I thought for sure that he thought I had gone insane, but what he said surprised me. "We can't talk about this now," he said in a quiet whisper. "All I can say is that if you see that man again, you need to tell me right away." I couldn't believe what I was hearing, but before I could say anything, we pulled up by the school auditorium, and I was taken inside. I studied my notes while they did my hair and
makeup, but I couldn't stop thinking about what Jim had said. When it was time for the debate, my opponent and I shook hands and walked onto the stage, where we shook hands once more before getting behind our podiums. I looked out into the crowd, focusing on an empty chair in the first row. It had a sheet of paper that said "Reserved for Sara Rodriguez." The debate was about to start, and my wife wasn't there. I assumed she must’ve gotten caught in traffic, but I was still uneasy. Her protection detail was supposed to be right behind ours, so there was no reason for her to be late. I tried to push my fears aside, and focused on the debate. The debate went well for the first twenty minutes; I was a lot more prepared than I thought I would be. While my opponent answered a question, I looked at the first row to see if my wife had arrived, but what I saw nearly made my heart stop. Sitting in my wife's seat was a man in a dark suit, with a glove on his right hand...it was Mr. Jones. I tried to remain calm, but he knew I had spotted him, and he gave me a menacing smile that I recognized all too well. Jones stood up, picked up the paper that had my wife's name on it, ripped it in half, and walked out of the auditorium. He must have walked past at least six Secret Service agents, but none of them seemed to see him stand up. It was my turn to answer a question, but I knew I had to leave. I was well aware that walking out of a debate could end my candidacy, but my main focus was finding Jim. I mumbled something about having a stomach flu and ran off the stage. I heard the shocked murmurs from the crowd, but I ignored it and ran to Jim, who was standing by the exit. Before I got a chance to tell him what happened, he opened the door, and we ran to the car. Jim probably broke every traffic law in the state, but we made it back to my house in twenty minutes. I ran inside, screaming Sara's name. We had to pack what we could and get out because for all I knew, Jones was right behind us with another syringe, ready to kidnap us just as he had in New York. When I got to the front door, it wouldn't open. I tried every key-no luck. Jim kicked the door down, and we ran inside. The place was a mess. There was broken glass everywhere, and books were spilled all over the floor. Clearly, someone had been looking for something. I ran through piles of clothes and broken glass and sprinted up the stairs. Sara was nowhere to be found. We checked every room. We looked in the backyard, and we even checked the neighbors house. It was no use. My wife was gone. To be Continued...
The Ocean’s Child By Calypso “Pearl, can’t you do anything?” Sylvia murmured as Rin focused his aim on the lead soldier. “I’ve never controlled anything more than a pitcher of water,” Pearl whimpered. Rowan’s hand found Eleanor’s, but she pulled hers away. He glanced at her worriedly, his eyes widening as she widened her stance and breathed deeply. She closed her eyes, and time slowed as one of the soldiers took the first shot. Ash clung onto the back of Rowan’s shirt, and Rin and Cas immediately returned fire, but the soldier’s shot never hit any of them. Instead, it hit a block of ice in the air, and the shattered pieces hung in midair. Rowan stared in shock as Eleanor exhaled loudly through her nose, raising her arms and creating an enormous wave behind them. Rin and Cas gasped as the wave reached its crest. Sylvia grabbed Pearl and held her close, but the water never touched them. Sylvia’s arms wind-milled as she made the water arc over their heads and crash down on the soldiers, drenching them and sweeping them back. The water’s sheer power pinned them against the trees, and Eleanor continued the surge of water, leaving them incapable of movement or struggle. She exhaled once more, and ice crept from her fingertips, moving down the wave and immobilizing the soldiers. The others stood still, completely stunned as Eleanor moved to grab the soldier’s guns. She powered them off and tossed them to Sylvia, Rin, Cas, and Rowan before saying urgently, “What are you waiting for? Run!” She froze a section of the creek to allow them to cross, and they ran across, returning to the resistance camp. As they ran through the forest, Rin asked her, “Why didn’t you tell us you had the Gift earlier?” “It never came up,” Eleanor said. “Besides, it’s not something I like to make a point of.” “Why? That was incredible,” Rowan gushed in admiration. “All that time, and you never told us.” “Well, it’s even more dangerous for merfolk with the Gift in the
city,” Eleanor pointed out. “So I’d say I had good reason not to bring it up.” “You’ll have to tell Esther about it,” Rin said. “She’ll move you to a different section of the camp so that you can train with others who have the Gift.” Eleanor nodded, looking uncomfortable as she replied, “Right, I’ll make sure to do that.” When they arrived back at the camp, Rin bid them a quick farewell, saying, “I need to tell Cleo about the soldiers. Since we’ve attacked them, we need to be ready for any form of retribution.” After he was gone, Sylvia asked, “They wouldn’t really attack us, would they?” “I hate to say it, but it’s likely,” Cas sighed, shaking his head. “I need to go talk to some of the others about the border defense. You guys find Esther. You remember where her tent is, right?” Sylvia nodded, and Cas left. As soon as he was gone, Rowan turned to Ash and asked, “What did you think you were going to do when you ran off with that gun?” “I just wanted to fight like you,” Ash said, shrinking back against Sylvia. “I didn’t mean for anyone to get in trouble.” “You have to be careful. The police aren’t after you here, but there are still soldiers who can and will hurt you,” Rowan said, kneeling down to look Ash in the eyes. “I know you want to be brave, but running off like that wasn’t braveit was foolish. The time will come when you can fight, but looking for a fight endangers you and everyone here at this camp. Do you understand?” “Yes,” Ash said, looking down at the ground dejectedly. “I’m sorry, Rowan.” “Do you promise to be more careful from now on?” Rowan asked, and Ash nodded. “I promise,” he said, kicking the dirt at his feet. Rowan tilted Ash’s chin up and peered into his eyes, asking again, “Promise?” “Promise,” Ash said, holding his brother’s gaze. “Good,” Rowan said, standing up. “Now, Sylvia, do you remember where Esther’s tent is?” She nodded, leading them back through the camp. When they
reached the tent, Esther smiled at them and said, “I’m so glad you found him. Come on, let’s get you settled in.” She led them into the tent and said to the boys, “Has Cas finished registering you two?” “Yeah, he said we were in the west section,” Rowan said, and Esther nodded as she thumbed through the pages in the binder. She returned to the page where she’d been earlier and said to Sylvia, “Alright, so you, Pearl, and Eleanor will be in the north section.” “Pearl and Eleanor have the Gift,” Sylvia said, and Esther stared at her in surprise. “Does that change anything?” “Well, yes, of course it does,” Esther said, crossing out some information by Pearl and Eleanor’s names and scribbling in something new. “That’s incredible; we so rarely have merfolk with the Gift come here, and now we have two in one day. This is excellent!” “Why?” Pearl asked nervously. “Because you give us an advantage over the humans,” Esther explained. “When we attack New Londontown, you’ll be our best chance at success.” “Whoa, hold on,” Sylvia said, her brow furrowing. “Pearl and Ash aren’t going to fight. They’re too young.” “I don’t even know how to fight. I can barely control a few drops of water,” Pearl added, clearly panicked. “That’s why we’ll train you,” Esther replied encouragingly. To Sylvia, she said, “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure Pearl is welltrained and able to defend herself.” “What about Ash? What about all of the merfolk who won’t be attacking New Londontown?” Sylvia challenged. “What about them? Are they going to be safe?” “They’ll be staying at the camp with a few merfolk soldiers to guard them,” Esther assured her. “Don’t worry, we’ve thought through this. You just need to worry about training, all right? Now, Pearl and Eleanor will be staying in the south section of the camp with the others who have the Gift. Sylvia, you’ll still be in the north section. Come on, I’ll
show you where everything is.” She led them through the south section first, then to the west and finally to the north. She introduced Sylvia to Lilia, Carine, and Ava, the three other women who were sharing the tent, and she said, “Alright then, I’ll leave you to get to know each other. If you need anything, just let me know.” She left, and the three other women stared at Sylvia in silence. They all appeared to be in the early twenties, and from the way they were sitting, Sylvia could tell they were good friends. Finally, Lilia said, “So, did you come with any family?” “Yeah, two brothers and a sister,” Sylvia said. “But my sister, Pearl, has the Gift, so she’s in a different section.” “Really? I thought it ran in families,” Carine said, frowning. “I guess not,” Sylvia said, sighing. “I didn’t realize they’d split us up.” “It’s just the way they organized the camp,” Ava said in a soft, timid voice. Sylvia nodded, and Lilia asked, “So, are you land-born?” Sylvia nodded again, saying, “All of us except for Rowan. My parents were part of the last wave to leave the water, but Rowan wasn’t even four months old when they left, so even he doesn’t remember what it’s like to live in the sea. What about you?” “I’m water-born, and trust me, the sea isn’t a place where you want to live. Even Atlantica’s light was beginning to dull by the time I left. My parents and I barely made it to the shore in time before the others were trapped below the surface by the pollution,” Lilia replied darkly, and Sylvia stared at her in horror. She’d always believed the stories her parents had told her about the underwater city’s sparkling lights, beautiful music halls, and shining palaces. Lilia saw the look on her face and said, “You’ve probably heard stories about Atlantica, but those were from the old days-back before humans decided it was their duty to destroy the world.” “So we’re stuck up here?” Sylvia asked softly, and Lilia nodded. Continued on Next Page
TOC cont. “That’s why everyone needs to train and fight. We can’t return to the sea, but we can’t keep living like this,” Carine explained. Sylvia nodded numbly, and Ava said softly, “Don’t worry, training’s not that bad once you get used to it, and the jobs around camp aren’t too difficult. Just be careful not to let any humans see you while you’re on patrol duty.” “Patrol duty?” “It’s one of the jobs the soldiers are assigned. You’re new, so you’ll have a partner the first few times,” she explained. Sylvia nodded and asked, “Do you know when we’re going to attack New Londontown?” “Well, all of the lieutenants have coordinated their training programs and schedules so that we’ll be ready for a simultaneous attack in two months,” Carine said. “We’ll probably start moving towards New Londontown in six or seven weeks, though.” Sylvia bit her lip worriedly, thinking about Pearl, but Lilia assured her, “Trust me, that’s plenty of time to train for you and your siblings. If you want, we can show you the basics so that you’ll be ready for training tomorrow.” Sylvia nodded and said with a
“Eleanor,” Illustration by Hecate
hesitant smile, “Thanks.” That evening, Pearl and Eleanor finished setting up their tent. There were far fewer merfolk with the Gift, so they had the tent to themselves. The south section was located by a small pond, and they’d watched as other merfolk practicing as Esther had led them to their tent. Once they were settled in, Pearl asked Eleanor shyly, “Are you scared?” “A little,” Eleanor admitted. “I didn’t think we’d get separated. What about you? Are you scared?” Pearl nodded and sighed, “I don’t want any of them to get hurt.” “I’m sure Sylvia and Rowan will be able to take care of themselves,” Eleanor said, but Pearl asked, “What about Ash?” “Well, I guess we’ll have to train extra hard to be able to take care of him,” Eleanor said with a forced smile. Pearl tried to smile, and Eleanor said apologetically, “I’m sorry, I’m really not good with the whole comforting thing. But we’re all looking out for each other, right? We’ll all make sure that everyone else is safe.” “I hope so,” Pearl muttered, and they lapsed into silence. Eleanor rubbed her arms and bit her lip, trying to think of something to say
and finally settling on, “Why don’t we go visit your sister?” Immediately, Pearl brightened, and they started off. On their way, they ran into Rowan and Ash, who apparently had the same idea as them. Before they could set off together, Rowan pulled Eleanor to the side and asked, “Do you think we could speak for a moment?” He glanced back at Ash and Pearl and added, “Just the two of us?” “Sure,” she said slowly, turning back to Pearl and saying, “Go on without us. We’ll catch up with you in a bit.” Ash looked like he was about to protest, but Pearl nodded understandingly and pulled Ash away. Once they were out of earshot, Rowan asked, “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? About the Gift?” “Because I didn’t want you to worry about me. You were already taking care of your siblings, and I knew that if I told you, it would be one more thing you’d be weighed down with,” she said. He opened his mouth to protest, but she continued, “I know you feel like you have to protect everyone, but I can take care of myself.” “I never doubted it,” he agreed, and she raised an eyebrow skeptically. He sighed and said, “I don’t know, I guess I just thought you’d tell me about that sort of thing, all things considered.” “What things are we considering?” Eleanor asked, a small smile tugging on her lips. They’d been close friends for several years, and in the months before they’d left the city, they’d been heading towards something more. His cheeks flushed slightly as he fumbled for words. After a few moments, he sputtered awkwardly, “Well, I mean, I wouldn’t want to consider something that you’re not considering, so, I mean…what are you considering?” “Well, I’m considering that I like you, Rowan,” she said frankly. His cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink, and she continued, “But I’m also considering that we’re at the resistance camp and that we’re still in danger.” “I know,” Rowan sighed, hesitantly taking Eleanor’s hands. “But…maybe…?” “Maybe,” she nodded, smiling at him. He smiled back, and she said, “You know, I never really thanked you for helping me escape. That
was really brave of you.” “Well, I-” he started, but he fell silent as she hugged him. He smiled happily and hugged her back, and she murmured in his ear, “Thank you.” “You’re welcome,” he said. She smiled as she pulled away, and he said, “We should probably go before Sylvia thinks something’s happened to us.” “Have you told her? Or any of them?” she asked. They began to walk, and Rowan kept her hand in his. She looked up at him and smiled slightly, giving his hand a small squeeze. “No, but I think Sylvia and Pearl have figured it out,” Rowan said reasonably. “Ash…well, I’ll tell him when he’s ready to know.” Eleanor nodded as they reached the tent. Rowan held the tent flap open for her, and they ducked inside. Sylvia, Pearl, and Ash were sitting there, and Eleanor watched as Rowan sat down. Seeing them together made Eleanor feel out of place, and she said, “Why don’t I let you guys have some time together as a family?” “Nonsense,” Sylvia said, smiling at her. “You’re like family to us.” “Are you sure?” Eleanor asked as she slowly sat down next to Rowan. Sylvia nodded and said, “Of course.” “Do I get to train with you guys tomorrow?” Ash asked excitedly. “I’m sure Rin will find something for you to do,” Sylvia replied evenly. Turning to Rowan, she said, “Apparently we’re leaving in six or seven weeks to attack New Londontown.” “But that’s so close,” Rowan murmured, frowning deeply. They began talking about their different training programs, but they stopped when they heard yelling outside. They saw the shadows of merfolk running outside their tent, and they hurried out to see merfolk running around in a panic. Soldiers were powering up their ray guns, and others were hurriedly packing up their tents. Rin ran past, and Sylvia stopped him, demanding, “What’s going on?” “Human soldiers breached our southern border,” Rin gasped, his eyes wide. “We’re under attack!”
To Be Continued...