Pen & Prism
The Arts & Literary Publication of the students of The Cleveland Lutheran High School Association
A few years back, we discussed the idea of an Arts & Literary publication to showcase the incredible talents of our fine arts and creative writing students. I am thrilled that this concept has come to fruition with our very first edition of the CLHSA’s Arts & Literary publication, which we’ve named Pen & Prism.
In the pages that follow, you’ll see diverse artistic and literary expressions by Lutheran East students in grades 9-12 and Lutheran West students in grades 6-12. All of the pieces included in the forthcoming pages were created during the 2024-2025 school year.
It is truly a blessing to witness our young people embracing their God-given creativity and, through their creative works, honoring the unique perspectives and individuality He has bestowed upon each of them.
We hope Pen & Prism inspires you as much as it has inspired us, and we invite you to join us in celebrating and supporting the incredible talents of our students. At some point in this publication, you’ll come across a donation envelope. If you feel so moved, I hope you’ll consider making a gift to support our schools’ programming, including the impactful courses, faculty, and student opportunities in our Fine Arts and English / Language Arts departments.
Chris Steinmann ՚00 Superintendent & CEO
The Cleveland Lutheran High School Association
The Once in a Lifetime Haunted Basement by
Alphabet Poem by Kiersten
Your Tangled Thoughts by Marianna Kochalko.....................................4
I
WISH
by Izsaiah Banks ՚25, Lutheran East
Man, I hate saying these words I swear I do.
But whenever I get in these type of of situations, I have to remember I’m human just like you.
My life isn’t glitter and gold
There’s been a lot of hoops that’s true, But I forgave myself once I realized that I am what I’ve gone through.
Now I’m not too keen on regrets I trust that God knows what He’s doing, But I feel like to get some closure My past needs some serious reviewing.
My burden got so heavy I felt I had no time to spare, But when I started to let go Is when I realized they weren’t mine to bear.
I healed and recovered
The road was hard and I don’t suggest, But going through good times doesn’t mean That there’s such as thing as absence of regret.
Sometimes I wish I was dealt a better hand
Sometimes I question the best I can, But I wake up thankful every day Because God gave me another chance.
A bit of advice
I’ll only be a minute, The game of life isn’t over Until you win it.
I know times get tough
And we can live in regret, But I’m able to operate So I can say that I’m blessed.
THE ONCE IN A LIFETIME HAUNTED BASEMENT
by Layla Tyson ՚31, Lutheran West
I believe that my basement is somewhat haunted. When I walked down there it made me twitch. As I slowly walk down the creaky steps, I see how I think the basement is haunted. The unfinished, brick walls, the way you can see the mice sprinting on the top of the walls. You can hear the sump pump water dripping feet into the ground. You can hear the snap of the mouse traps clicking as mice get caught. You can hear screaming from my little brother upstairs while he plays. You can taste the old, stale snacks in your mouth as you squinch your face in disgust. You can feel the old, rough, cold concrete ground. The way you can feel the cold air pulling your body like the floor and walls are saying “stay with me!” You can smell the horrible, uncleaned cat litter. My basement has a cold heart. While I’m down there I can hear my heartbeat in terror. My basement is a dungeon that you are trying to get out of as fast as you can. I have come to the conclusion, my basement is haunted.
TIGER SKIN
by Alexis Burnside ՚25, Lutheran West Painting
ALPHABET POEM
by Kiersten Steinmann ՚26, Lutheran West
Alexander Hamilton walks across the stage telling us about how he’s about to make an outrage
Burr tell Hamilton to calm down don’t make a show or he’ll blow away
Charles Lee is a great example you see, he blew it all away on a duel weeeeee!
Dim was Hamilton’s outlook on life when he got taken away from the strife, but bright was his future because he couldn’t get killed by another army shooter
Eliza is happy to have her husband home far from the war and worry and the wicked world
Freedom was close as France sailed in with boat, and coats on french sailor men
George Washington gets ready for a battle with Hamilton happily on his side
Hear the song the British belt when they lost the worryful, wicked world turned upside down
Infamous is this day, freedom sings in all its array
Jefferson will soon be on his way to see America on full display
King George is in a rage now he has even more wars to wage
Lafayette sails home to tales of more freedoms to come
Madison and Jefferson team together to stop Hamilton for he is not the only good contender
Non Stop Hamilton writes and writes hoping the world will read the words he fights for
Oh though he tries Hamilton can not find a compromise
Peggy, you must remember is a Schuyler sister so don’t forget her
Quick and fast Hamilton makes a compromise who knew how it came to pass
Rumors spread of the secret deal made in rooms unseen
Schuyler sisters stay side by side as life goes by
Through death, and strife, and the rest of life Hamilton continues on even when Hamilton is not there
Uptown its quiet, it’s hard to be loud when your son died by that sound
Virginians were someone Hamilton fought a lot though he ought to just let it go
While Burr is out campaigning, Hamilton makes his choice to choose not a comrade but a combatant instead
Xenial relationship was what Burr and Hamilton had until it ended; he shredded their friendship
Young was Hamilton’s son, Phillip, who did not live long enough to sit up in the seat his dad did
Zap was the sound made when Hamilton can hit with that metal tap
DANDELION
by Jasmine Brown ՚26, Lutheran East
Colored Pencils / Art Pencil
YOUR TANGLED THOUGHTS
by Marianna Kochalko ՚27, Lutheran East
Stress, the overwhelming state of worry.
Stressed about school, work, or just anything. It takes a toll on your soul. Forever wrapped and intertwined. In your very own mind.
Life tears you in so many ways
To the point, where all you can do Is stress about it, the only emotion you know. Depression, Headaches, Fatigue The last thing you’ll do is sleep.
It’s starting to get worse and Now you’re buried. Trying to crawl yourself out But instead you zone out. People talk, you can no longer hear them.
Stressed about how your school work
Won’t ever get done, stuck on the everlasting loop. Find a way to help yourself.
I’ve found a notebook and one turned into two. Expressing yourself on paper
That’s where we’ll start in order to get better.
ON CORINTHIANS 16:14
Let all that you do be done in love. by Winter Lee ՚27, Lutheran East
This week’s topic is kindness And I knew I wanted to talk about you. The way you smile at others you don’t know, Or forgive those who don’t deserve it, Pray for those who hurt you, no matter if It was on purpose.
Your kindness shows, and it flows through your heart. You’re not perfect, I know, but at least it’s a start. Your love is so big, sometimes it overwhelms others, But you still show it proudly, with your heart uncovered.
Battles and heartaches, losses and losses, They never define you because you still Have the man on the cross, his heart is Big enough to carry your burdens, so don’t Change your heart even when uncertain.
So this is to me, the girl who tries to be kind, I hope I never, change this heart of mine. Corinthians 16:14, my favorite verse, because The bible also reads that love is patient and kind, And I love love, so I’ll always try.
SPRING
by Isabella Russ ՚26, LutheranWest Oil Paints
COLD TEA
by Aliyah Wheeler ՚28, Lutheran East
In a small room, resentment runs without forgets Tea to the brim, cup unblemished and clean
In a small room, resentment runs with regret
Content with not saying anything, this fate was meant to be.
Maddie Kandrach ՚26, Lutheran West Oil Paints
Petty arguments and fight
Stirred up with malice and hate, Brown, cruel eyes alike
Only one attempts to have a taste.
Heat from both of the tea cups rise, One decides to cool hers down
Simply, she can apologize without a fight
One lets herself lay, in nothingness she drowns.
Drowns in nothing but pure detestation
How’s and why’s fill her mind
Anger runs in circles with no destination
Yet she doesn’t know sadness and anger are intertwined.
One cup is empty, one person in the room
One cup is full, one person said their peace. In new enlightenment, her tea starts to cool In less entitlement, her loathing of the tea starts to cease.
Even with her opportunity so far gone, Words fill up in her throat, she has so much to say Things that she can’t get back have been withdrawn Oh, how she hates the way cold tea tastes.
BEACH by
THE MISSING STEERING WHEEL
by Casey Hunsicker ՚25, Lutheran West
When it comes to the inner workings of a standard human being there are many that come into play for the overall stabilization of the system. Many things can mess it up and throw its course askew. Even more so, despite the heavy impact that individuals can often bring upon each other, most of these defects begin on the inside. As it turns out, the main component that resides within a person-besides their thoughts-would be their emotions. The up and the down, the good and the bad, all of it is generated from this nexus. That being said, it can also be confirmed that guilt grows here as well. However, one thing that must be established in order to gain a concise understanding on this matter. To be straightforward: while guilt can be identified as and even originates from emotions, not all emotions are strictly identifiable as guilt. There is much more color to the emotional spectrum than simply just guilt. Which therefore means that guilt is not quite as complex as the broad range of emotions and can only take credit for the meager reactions that are carried out in its stead. It also affirms that guilt is not even its own object; rather, everything that takes place due to guilt, is more generally taking place due to the emotions that caused the guilt to be triggered. Henchard just so happens to be the perfect vessel in which such ill-balanced human reactions are demonstrated. Besides just this, however, there are many more symptoms that can diagnose Henchard through the lens of true emotional instability and put down the possibility of guilt truly being his most potent attacker. These symptoms and arguments can not only describe Henchard as being emotionally underdeveloped and therefore showing signs of an overbearing internal flaw, but also show how guilt to some extent can be healthy, as well as how it really did not impact as deeply as Henchard, on his emotional crutches, would wish to claim.
The song “Life is a Highway” by Tom Cochrane is not only agreeable to most, but relatable. It shows the world as this idea of being on a constant journey down the road and it explains how the path of life is very much like a car trip. There are new things to experience every moment, constant dangers to avoid, and detours and accidents along every step of the way. However, to take this a step further, the car, when being loosely interpreted, is a good definition of the human inner workings. The pedals in the car clearly represent the emotions or the driving force of an individual and the brakes form the intuition, or the spur of the moment knowledge that stops the driver from plowing through deadly situations. Yet, when it comes to Henchard and the makeup of his vehicle, it can be seen that he is badly out of repair. Or in the terms not pertaining to analogy, he would be better known as emotionally underdeveloped. The way this works is simple. Henchard has two of the basic things he needs to “drive” or make it through life, his emotions, and his intuition-despite however weak it may be-but he is missing the essential third piece and that is the steering wheel. Or rather, the guiding force of logic. Without this crucial piece, Henchard can do nothing but
run his way forward with emotions and either break down or smash through a barrier when the road comes to a turn. He has not learned the important skill of stepping outside his emotions and functioning through the means of logic. Because of this Henchard’s emotions get the best of him and he ends up basing all his critical decisions on them and failing.
Furthermore, as the topic is switched over to guilt, more than a few principal distinctions should be made. The most important of these all, however, is that guilt actually has two separate pieces, with one being good and the other clearly bad. The first piece is plain and simple guilt, with nothing behind it other than a mistake that leads to internal pain and self-doubt. On the other hand though, is conviction, which is the healthy side of guilt that often tends to be ignored. Conviction is a recognition of the wrong doings but with a point that leads to turnaround. Even more so, while Henchard does demonstrate degrees of plain guilt, he actually happens to exude a decently high amount of not only conviction, but taking the right action upon conviction. The first is when his wife Susan returns to him. Rather than mistreat her and turn her away, Henchard is filled with guilt and acting upon this for the better, he actually slightly redeems his more tragic flaws. He actually even demonstrates multiple other noble actions through recognition of his faults rather than stewing over his problems in guilt. Among these are repenting of holding blackmail over Lucetta and therefore returning to her what had been taken, admitting his past mistakes to the furmity-woman in front of the townspeople, and seeking to right his wrongs by running to find Farfrae upon the beginning of Lucetta’s untimely death. The list could go on, however, even a slight fraction of his actions just happens to show how guilt in the context of this story actually happened to be more helpful than harmful in the pretext of generality.
Finally, Henchard’s guilt can be examined to the extent to at least somewhat secure the fact that it wasn’t truly harmful to his circumstances. He experiences guilt on many levels and on many different occasions, however, each of them did not leave a bite deep enough to reach bone as did his emotions. In the case of lying to Newson and then feeling guilty about it, it soon becomes clear that guilt is not the main issue. Rather, his fear of Elizabeth-Jane being turned against him soon becomes priority. So guilt in this case is clearly not the issue. When it comes to guilt in the cases of how he treated Farfrae or Elizabeth-Jane, it can also be said that guilt was not the prominent emotion here either. Rather, in these cases, he is suffering from hindsight and the pain of regret, wishing that he could fix what he had broken, rather than truly taking the blame to his heart. Therefore, at the end of the day, it can be concluded that everything that had happened in relation to Henchard’s guilt wasn’t either deep or damaging.
HEART AND SOUL
by Leah’nae White ՚25, Lutheran East
In life I just want to stay sweet, Not easy but those three words keep me at peace. I want to love on everyone and Give them hope, making them feel Special even when they spoke.
Listen to every story and thought they have, Cheering them up when they feel bad. Something about love just comes easy to me, I understand and feel so deep within. Sometimes I even pray for my enemies to win.
Most would disagree because my heart is so big, But I can’t help it because I’ve been like this since I was a kid. Even when they did me wrong I still stayed around, Because I didn’t want them to feel how I
Felt when it should’ve been the other way around!
In life I just want to stay sweet, Even though the people around me
Are the opposite, it makes my mind think. How can I help them be better and do more?
Or is it just me being a lover too pure?
Sometimes I pray for more genuine people around
So they can make me feel sweet and never let me down.
Top
Bottom Left: Mar’Riah Dancy ՚28
Bottom Right: Kenydi Davis ՚27
Colored Pencil / Art Pencil
SUMMER
by Zariya Perez ՚27, Lutheran West
Summer is like coming up out of the water for fresh air
Summer is very hot, but eventful
You hear children all around wheezing from all of the running they’re doing
You see all of the happy people eating ice cream and drinking lemonade
Summer is the scent of adventure and fun carried on the breeze
You get all sweaty and maybe even smelly but its all worth it
Summer fills everyone with excitement and unity, it’s like the Moon landing that happened
Summer comes with many surprises and so much love
The golden sun glows in our bold presence
All of the birds flying and chirping bright and early
When that golden sun shows, everyone’s smiles brighten
Summer is when all of the yummy shaved ice stands open
Summer is beautiful, bright, burning, and not boring at all
Everyone wishes that summer lasted forever
When the season changes from summer you can see the sun waving goodbye for a long time
This leads everyone to be sad, they love summer
When summer is over it feels like death and like no one will ever see the hot sun again
Summer is the most amazing season
Will summer even ever come again?
Summer is the best time of people’s life
The beautiful sunset of summer is as beautiful as waking up and seeing another day.
LIPS
Lutheran East
Top Left: Jaslyn Lockhart ՚25
Right: Briana Finley ՚26
UNTITLED by Jasmine Brown ՚26, Lutheran East
Art Marker
TROPICAL BLOOMS
Lutheran East
Top (blue): Dakaylyn Perkins ՚27
Middle (pink): Reyven Weeams ՚28
Bottom (red): Chloe Belton ՚27
Colored Pencil / Art Pencil
THE FALL OF WINTER
by Laila Tyson ՚28, Lutheran East
Fall is the season of color. When you walk outside, Everything shines so bright. Fall is so pretty you may Never wish for another summer.
The fall leaves dance in the wind, Because fall is here alive once again. Everything looks crisp in the light. But one of these days the winter Will come and say goodnight.
Fall is quiet like winter is loud, Into silence winter shouts to the crowd. It’s cold and abrupt and loves to live long, But most people hate it, and don’t listen to its song.
Because fall is beautiful and everyone favors it, They always forget about winter while they try to savor it. Winter wants some love too. But she doesn’t get any, Because she stays too long; Her days are just too many.
Fall was nice but now there’s a blanket of snow, Wo to winter we have to say hello. I’m not telling you to make it your favorite But please give her some love, Because the person who chose her Was no one but the big guy above.
NINE MEN PLAY CHESS
A poem based on the novel The Prisoner of Zenda by Anthony Hope by AJ Dorner ՚28, Lutheran West
One black and two red Black wants to have power Red fears red is dead Red crushes a flower
Six become two Red guarded by three Red, three come for you Red takes three to tea
Fortress at Zenda Black is betrayed Red, six may end Alliances made
Nine men play chess Who will win, none can guess.
TWO NARRATIVE POEMS
by Sofia Davila ՚30, Lutheran West
Snow Day
The schools are closed for the day, All the children come out to play, They go to the sledding hill, Spending all day fulfilled.
Summer Day
The sun shines brightly on all of the town, The hot summer breeze blows my hair and my gown, We head to the beach for the long summers day, Spending all day in the sunshine, not missing a single ray.
MY LOVELY ROOM
by Adalynn Jones ՚31, Lutheran West
My room is my favorite place. Nothing compares to it. It’s where I go to calm down, after I had a long day and I feel very sluggish, and I go there when I’m even happy. My room is probably filthy 99 percent of the time, but it doesn’t bother me. Every time I lay on my bed, it feels like I’m laying on clouds. While I’m there I always have a delectable snack with me. I hear my very noisy family all around my house, but I just play music over all of it. The yells in my house just sound like whispers going right through my ear while I’m at home, unless they are to me. My room is fully accessorized and all of my walls are covered. I smell my mom’s cooking as she makes dinner which makes a fun game for me to try and guess what she is making if she hasn’t told me already. The sound of a sudden bang, sometimes makes me jump. Stuff is always falling because I always have my window open and it just whips stuff right off of my shelfs. Whenever I’m sad and I cry rivers of tears, I go straight to my room. Most of the time my family doesn’t knock on my door, they will just barge into my room, which makes me think that they don’t know what privacy is. Overall, I love my room, and I couldn’t imagine what I would do if I had to share a room with a sibling, or anyone.
MIDNIGHT CRUISE
by Elijah Armstead-Jackson ՚28, Lutheran East Oil Pastels
SATURN by Sondria Mixon ՚27, Lutheran East Digital Media
Row 1, L-R: Will Packer by Jasmine Brown ’26, Giovanna Romos by Brooklyn Sullivan ’28, Steph Curry by Asheer Rice ’26, Self Portrait by Faith Houston ’25, Martin Luther King Jr. by Jayden Smith ’28, Derrick Henry by Cha’Ellis Johnson ’25
Row 2, L-R: Self Portrait by Maikaila Robinson ’28, NBA YoungBoy by Derion Trimble ’26, Madame CJ Walker By Dominic Bivens ’28, Derrick Rose by Faith Houston ’25, NBA YoungBoy by Jayleah Clark ’28, Aretha Franklin by Noah Jones ’26
Row 3, L-R: Kehlani by Paul Walton ’27, Tank Dell by Matthew Valentine ’26, Jhene Aiko by Kayla Hodges ’26, Ludacris by Mi’Zarriah Mason-Hawthorne ’28, Malcolm X by Ja’Rell Melton ’25
Row 4, L-R: Self-Portrait by Malia Nickens ’28, Future by Makaila Robinson ’28, Lebron James by Demond Guess ’25, Latto by Tamiyah Dean-Hall, Self-Portrait by Briana Finley ’26
A STUDY IN CERAMICS
by Elizabeth Hessler
՚25,
Lutheran West Ceramics / Ceramic Glaze
A REFLECTION ON ‘HATCHET’ BY GARY PAULSON
by Gracie Fuoco ՚30, Lutheran West
Surviving in a new environment is scary and can be difficult. You must learn new things and learn how to rely on yourself. In the book “Hatchet” the main character, Brian, after crashing his plane, had to master surviving in the woods while understanding his emotions. When I was younger, I moved from the Philippines to Ohio with my parents. Similar to Brian, I had to learn how to live in a new country.
Adapting to new surroundings can be physically challenging. Brian was in shock from the plane crash and he needed to quickly learn how to build shelters, create fires, and hunt in the wilderness. After arriving in Ohio, I had to get used to a new home, sleeping in my own room, and eating new and different foods. Making new friends at a new school was challenging because no one knew me. I had a strange accent and a small vocabulary. I needed to improve my English so I could comfortably communicate better with peers and teachers.
Brian and I had to deal with difficult emotions when our environments changed. Brian was terrified being in the wilderness. He was afraid of the dangerous animals around him and was scared and nervous he might not make it out. Brian was lonely because he was isolated from the whole world. I had many feelings when I moved to Ohio. I felt nervous and scared when sleeping in a new room. It was so dark and I felt isolated from my parents. Interacting with my new classmates felt very awkward because I never knew what to say. I felt frustrated because I didn’t know enough English words to talk and felt like giving up.
Brian and I eventually learned to live in our new surroundings. By the time he got saved, Brian had figured out how to use his hatchet to survive. He would chop down tree branches for shelter, rub his blade against a rock to create a fire and stab fish with his utility. When I learned how to sleep on my own I kept a nightlight on. My parents had me try small bites of food so I could see what they tasted like. Because of that, I learned which foods I liked most and didn’t like at all. I learned more vocabulary by using flashcards with pictures on them with my parents. They also read books with me all the time to help me speak and learn to read. As a result, I was able to comfortably communicate with my peers and make friends.
In order to survive, Brian and I had to be open minded and willing to try new things that may be scary at first. Brian and I both felt terrified but we learned to be brave. Change is hard, but being brave will help you get through the hard problems and changes in your life.
MANIFESTO
by Olivia Grace ՚26, Lutheran West
Time is vital and goes by fast. Life is limited but the impact you leave during that time is everlasting. It’s what you do with your life that matters. Nothing you do is a waste of time. Everything happens for a reason so don’t overthink it, just do. Do what makes you happy, and never second guess that. If it makes you happy then don’t stop. Happiness is fleeting so hold onto it for as long as you can. Let go of your regrets and continue to live your life. You’ll spend too much time worrying and not enough time living. Like time, have your life move forward, not backwards. Spend less time on the past and more on the present. Let go of your grudges and regrets. Baggage can only be carried for so long, before it’s too heavy. Be light and free, don’t restrain yourself. You can do anything, and anything is possible. This is your time, this is your life. Pursue those passions and lost ambitions. Make the impossible possible. While time is forever, life always comes to an end. Don’t waste it, don’t regret it, and don’t forget it. Make the best of life and the time left in it.
PAPER COLLAGE
by Jasmine Brown ՚26, Lutheran East Paper Collage
DIGITAL ART COLLAGE
by Arionne McCladdie ՚28, Lutheran East Digital Media
CITYSCAPE PERSPECTIVE
by Chloe Campbell ՚25, Lutheran West
Art Pencil
LIKE AUTUMN
A haiku based on the novel
The Prisoner of Zenda by Anthony Hope by AJ Dorner ՚28, Lutheran West
Twin lives, fate entwined
Cold winds howl through castle halls
Love falls like autumn
HIDDEN IN DESPAIR
A haiku based on the novel
by Paul Walton ՚27, Lutheran East
The Prisoner of Zenda by Anthony Hope by Cinthia Boda ՚28, Lutheran West
Wind whispers through stone
Cold iron scent fills the air
Footsteps echo deep
ART
by Jolyce Phillips ՚31, Lutheran West
Art is a very soothing and delightful activity. How I have such a strong passion and interest for art. Nothing makes me more delighted than participating in art-related activities. I find it so enjoyable to observe many different paintings from artists such as Leonardo DaVinci, Van Gogh, Pablo Picasso, and many more. Painting is like watching ballerinas frolic about the stage. When I grasp onto the brush the movements are so graceful and captivating watching the color disperse onto the canvas. Art is like a window to someone’s soul. Portraying the emotions being felt by the artist. Sometimes I feel I can see the art jump out at me. The sight of such admirable works is just such a magnificent feeling. When opening a fresh box of crayons a fresh and pungent smell of an earthy soap with leather like clay undertones blasts out at you. Scratch! The sound my pencil made while it was being yanked across the paper. The feeling of the different types of paper: some are sturdy, rigid, and rocky while others are flimsy, frail, and very fragile. The smells from different art supplies are so strong and pungent it’s like I could taste it. The scattered art supplies all over my desk are bright but many different colors. Finishing a piece of art and then closing my sketchbook. What a marvelous feeling.
EYE
PERSPECTIVE
TWO-SENTENCE SUSPENSE
Lutheran West English 4 students practiced building suspense, and creating tone and mood while writing microfiction horror stories. These ‘stories’ are scary after just two sentences!
Gavin Repasky ՚25: “I cocked my head at the mirror with glee, as I preserved a wide grin. It was impossible to exemplify, because I was not grinning back.”
Ange Martinez ՚25: “After the incident, he’s been super quiet. I wonder if he knows what he did.”
Georgia Miller ՚25: “‘I love you, goodnight,’ she said as she closed the door. I feel a burning sensation, and it’s been forever since I last saw light.”
Narah Cuevas ՚25: “At 3am, feeling uneasy, I woke up with a chilling sensation and saw a lifeless figure at the end of my bed. I was dragged into the forbidden basement, never to be seen again.”
Grace Geers ՚25: “I heard a voice at the end of my bed saying, ‘Hi mom!’ I don’t have any kids.”
SNOOZE by Shant’A Goodwin ՚28, Lutheran East Paint
TWO ACROSTIC POEMS by Sofia Davila ՚30, Lutheran West
LIFE
Living everyday like theres no tomorrow, I live for love, peace and joy, Finding time to do the things I love, Every day is a new page in my story.
FAITH
Fear God with all your heart and mind, Adversity is god’s way of blessings, I say this with integrity and sincerity, Taking every challenge as an opportunity Hearing God’s voice in everything I do.
(LEFT): ALBUM COVER by Makaila Robinson ՚28, Lutheran East Paint and Art Marker
Lutheran West
Art Pencil / Colored Pencil
Ria Newton ՚25
A SICKNESS
by Alex Conroy ՚27, Lutheran West
I look through the glass like a pondering child, no sense of self and no sense of why.
The world turns round’ on the hand of God, spinning so fast it’ll make you feel funny, but the slum never stops and the angels won’t wait.
The land is still changing to fit its brittle bones, though its sickness is caused by what should’ve been null.
And my body grows wings to sink beneath the core
A showcase that’s been seen before, a fall no greater than the Berlin Wall
Collapsing for the sake of “liberty” to signify.
A time of gloom consumed by the moon, who spends her life in a shadow of light.
I’ll pull the glass right through in hopes to hear it—
Crash.
But when it happens I know, the sun will feel much brighter,
The ashy snowflakes with a hot humid center, will turn back time and go back to frozen little stars.
She’ll place a single band-aid where we once were, leaving a lingering feeling
As a distant flag waves far-off to subside our attack left on this planet.
But what is it that I owe, to pay my respects
A single bone bleached for wear, back to bare the simple hope
Of a time of peace
Before the fog rolls back in, and the pig squeals again
But the air flows quiet on the somber hour, dawning a final question:
What is it worth?
MY FAMILY TREE
SELF PORTRAIT
by
Art Marker
by Ashanti Tate ՚27, Lutheran East
I love my mom. She was always there for me when I needed her. She told me when I was ten years old I was adopted. I never wanted to know who my real parents were because I love her and if my mother truly wanted me she wouldn’t have put me up for adoption. I was closer to my aunt than my mother; my aunt was like my best friend. She would take me to the park, the store to get shoes and clothes, and out to eat. Many people say how much we look alike and how they can tell where I get my looks from. I was thinking through all this as I was helping my mom and aunt in the kitchen to bring out the food to place on the table. My uncle was going to lead prayer this year and he looked a little nervous. When we all sat at the table my uncle had started the prayer. He said, “I want to thank God for bringing us together for another Thanksgiving and thank you for keeping my daughter safe.” I was confused because he and my aunt don’t have any kids. Everyone at the table froze and I asked who he was talking about. My mom turned to me and said that she was sorry.
HEXAGONAL BOX
by Isabella Rudnickas ՚25, Lutheran West Woods
SIMBA by Josiah Guertin ՚25, Lutheran West Woods
Wynter Womack ՚28, Lutheran East
Muhammad Muhammad Manigat ՚27, Lutheran East
Kennedy Sheeley ՚28, Lutheran East
Aliycia Wright ՚27, Lutheran East
Brooklin Harden ՚28, Lutheran East
THE TRIBES OF VERYAA
A long-form creative writing story
by Casey Hunsicker ՚25, Lutheran West
I suppose it wasn’t really intentional. Though that depends on who you ask. If you ask the people of Cleftridge, my village, they’ll tell you I did it on purpose. And, well, I guess they would be right to some extent. But that’s only because it’s their fault. They’re confused and I don’t blame them. I was too. Until I met Felix.
But enough, I need to start at the beginning for you to understand. I am Velia. Velia of Cleftridge. The last establishment of humans in the whole world of Veryaa. And yes, I know my name kind of rhymes with that. Believe me, the little brats in the village remind me all the time. They even made up a song, but I’m not gonna waste your time with that right now. Anyway, the tribes. Humans should fall in with the tribes but the thing is, we’re kind of the odd remainder. We don’t have anything in common with the rest of the world, which is probably why humans almost died out a few decades back. I mean, hey, I don’t particularly blame them for thinking that we’re some kind of primitive animal like a cow or a chicken. We don’t even talk like the rest of the tribes. Like, what kind of sentient being would talk using their mouth? Or has soft, penetrable skin? No wings, no natural defenses, it’s only easy to assume that we weren’t made for this place. All the other tribes have shiny, hard shells, thick sideways (at least compared to humans) jaws, and elongated snouts. Some have wings. Some have barbed tails laced with venom. Some are even capable of producing their own substances, such as silk or silver and golden nectar. All have incredible climbing skills. All have survival skills. All except humans. Or, as the rest of the tribes call us, the Dying Tribe.
Although, at least we’re not gone yet. We would’ve been, had we not made it through the Great Misunderstanding. That was before we tried to learn tribal language. That was when the tribes assumed we were dumb beasts like all the other creatures. Humans had assumed the same of the tribes. However, we had lived in peace for quite some time, as long as anyone can remember, at least. That was, until humans started industrializing and producing inventions and weapons. Then they saw us as more than just animals. They saw us as a threat. After all, with all the building and creating any of the tribes have ever done, they never expected any to create something other than what was natural. Which was exactly what the humans did.
So the tribes attacked. They tried to push us from existence. They couldn’t do it.
The weapons we had created were too much for the natural resources of the tribes. Thus we proved our right to existence. Although, that doesn’t mean that the tribes had to like it. It didn’t mean they had to like us. In fact, they still don’t. Which is probably why we’re finally dying off. Being confined to our small valley city of Cleftridge doesn’t leave us with much room to advance. On top of that, we’re pretty much cut off from trading for the natural resources of the tribes, meaning we have nothing more than what grows in our valley and the weapons we produce.
It’s pathetic. I’ve been trying to tell them we should at least try to get in touch with the Golden Tribe. After all, their huge, shining palace sits right up on the cliff next to Cleftridge. I’ve never been inside it but I’ve heard that the huge shimmering halls glimmer with almost as much gold as the outside. Which would make sense because they’re probably the second richest tribe in all of Veryaa. The Golden Tribespeople themselves stand probably a foot or two taller than any human, with huge glimmering eyes and an elegant snout. Their protruding side-jaws are perfectly proportioned and they have long
tails with venomous barbs. They have six limbs, just like most of the tribes do, but they only use four to walk on. They also have a pair of paper-thin transparent wings that honestly seem much too small to hold something as big as themselves in the air. But they work. Anyway, I suppose the only odd thing about the Golden Tribe is their furry appearance. They have an almost expressive gold and black mane that runs all the way down their backs onto their abdomens. Which is different from the rest of the tribes who for the most part have hard, reflective “skin”. I say skin lightly because there is no way their hard, shell-like consistency could ever be compared to skin. But enough about their shells or whatever it is that they have. The only other tribe that lives close enough to interact with humans, a.k.a. the Dying Tribe as I’ve said before, would be the Clay Tribe. They’re a lot smaller than the Golden Tribe but about a million times more muscular. With their stooped gray and brown bodies and their muscular claws they definitely make for a sight to look at. Which is why it’s a good thing that they mostly live underground. Although they do also have an above-ground clay palace reserved for only the royals because the royals have wings.
Anyhow, the only other tribes I know anything about are the SilkCrawler and the Dragon Tribes. The SilkCrawler Tribe, as the name suggests, lives in huge silk fortresses that span the giant trees of the Upper Woods. Instead of six limbs they have eight, and also have these terrifying fangs which will either turn your insides to liquid or paralyze you. Which is one reason why humans stay out of the woods altogether. The Dragon Tribe, on the other hand, is somewhat nomadic and is constantly jumping from one location to another with their huge wings and incredible flying speeds. I think I even heard something once about their homes being nothing more than giant bubbles.
Which leaves us with our little problem. Halfways. The unwanted half-human, half-tribal group that should never exist. They’re not accepted by society they can’t be. Nobody can look at the strange half-formed beings and think that they belong somewhere. Or at least, according to the people of Cleftridge. And all the tribes. Therefore, any Halfway that is ever found is exiled. They’re forced to live in the giant white structures that are known as the Halfway Houses. And being honest with you I didn’t see a problem with this. I agreed with my village for the most part. After all, how could they be accepted?
Being honest with you, I pretty much agreed with whatever they said. After all, how could I know any better? Then Felix showed up. Or I guess you could say it was me that showed up first. It all started when the Council (which is partially responsible for running the Halfway Houses, along with the Golden Tribe, who mainly oversees everything that goes on there) rounded up their apprentices to take the yearly visit to the Halfway Houses. Also, another thing you should know. I’m a Council apprentice. And a very new one at that, I should say. So this was my first ever visit to the Halfway Houses. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised at what I saw. I should’ve stayed silent and minded my own business like all the other apprentices. But with a mentor like Councillor Phena . . . let’s just say it’s not hard to wander off.
The moment I saw the huge white rectangles, blocking out the sky like some hideous malformation of the land, I knew something was off here. Something was wrong. Stepping in through the small, squared entrance I found that every hallway was narrow and white, with small, cell-like rooms. However, it wasn’t until we neared the wide, bleached courtyards that I saw my first Halfway. They were crouched over the oval pool of still water in the center of the courtyard. At first glance, they seemed to appear like every other human I had ever seen. But when they rose from the pool and turned around to greet us, I had to hold back a gasp of shock.
Her eyes were huge and colorful, spinning with at least five different iridescent colors. I could hardly tell who she was looking at.
I hoped it wasn’t me. From her hair sprung two thin wires or rather antennae and they twitched lightly in the air as if they could feel our presence standing before them. My best friend, Eliana, nudged me and held back what was either a gasp or a snicker. I didn’t turn to look at her. I was too horrifically entranced by the sight of the half-tribal girl. Now I knew why none of the tribes wanted them.
“You’re here,” the Halfway said without any expression. She had talked using her mouth though, as a human would.
It creeped me out to my core.
“We are,” one of the Councillors answered her. “Is the Golden Tribe ready to see us?”
“Yes, but they requested that you leave your apprentices here in the courtyard while you meet with them. They can join you again when you conduct your inspection.”
“Right,” the Councillor agreed, nodding.
As all the Councillors followed the Halfway girl to another narrow, white hallway I felt my stomach turn. The rest of the apprentices hung around in a tight circle, unsure of what to do. I collapsed next to Eliana onto a thin slab of stone that might’ve been a bench.
“This place is so creepy,” she whispered to me.
I nodded, too pent up to say anything. After a moment I stood up and moved over to stare into the oval pool, too jittery to stay still. A second later, something slammed into my shoulder hard enough to knock me toward the pool. I found myself falling as if in slow motion, knowing that in precisely two seconds I would be soaked through and completely embarrassed.
It never happened.
A strong, smooth hand clasped my own and held me suspended on the edge of falling. Striking blue eyes pierced right into my heart and I looked away as whoever it was helped me stand up. The person backed away slightly once I was back on my feet and I glanced back up. His somewhat unkempt dirty blond hair hung in his eyes and he brushed it back with one hand before looking down. He turned to walk away, probably thrown off by the uncomfortable silence, but I grabbed his hand.
“Wait—” I began to say, when I noticed something.
He spun back around slowly but not before I had seen the long black ovals dotted with white circles that sprouted from his back. Dragon Tribe Wings. He was a Halfway.
He noticed immediately that I had seen his wings and he hung his head before sprinting away down one of the corridors. I don’t know what it was that compelled me to chase after him. But I did.
The long white hallways twisted on and on until I couldn’t be sure which way I was going anymore. Everywhere I ran, I could hear the sound of doors slamming shut, as if the residents could sense that I wasn’t one of them and they didn’t want to encounter me. Which made sense. For all I knew, I looked just as scary and misformed to them as they did to me.
I was so caught up in running after the Halfway boy that I hardly noticed the low railing that was suddenly before me. Instead, all that my mind took in was the sudden rush of color. Above me spanned enormous glass ceilings while beneath me there sprawled an immense greenhouse thriving with vibrant plants. Well, at least it was beneath me at first. That was, until the Halfway boy suddenly
jumped into the air and I jumped too, forgetting that I couldn’t fly.
I hesitated a moment too late and the upper half of my body flew out into the open before my legs slammed into the cold metal of the railings. Then suddenly I was sliding downwards, trying pitifully to curl my legs around the railing and slow my fall. It wasn’t until the tips of my toes were sliding through the bars that the Halfway boy returned and hovered in front of my face. I probably would’ve caught my breath at the sight of the flying boy had I not already been holding my breath. Then he wrapped his arms around my flailing form and set me down next to a row of bushes that surprisingly smelled amazing.
Momentarily curious, I turned to see that I was sitting in the middle of a blackberry grove before I realized that the Halfway was no longer next to me. I looked up, barely seeing his legs disappear back over the railing above me.
“Wait!” I shouted after him. Honestly, I half-expected him to ignore me, but he ended up coming back.
He landed lightly in the dirt next to me, glaring.
“What?” he snarled.
“Y you’re different,” I stuttered. “You’re not like the other Halfways.”
He turned away, looking back up at the balcony.
“No, you’re wrong. I’m exactly like them.”
“Then why ”
“What, did you expect us to be heartless creatures just because we look different? Just because we were deemed unfit for society?”
“Well . . . they kinda made it seem like it,” I mumbled.
“They?”
“The Council.”
“Of course they did,” he muttered. He moved as if he was going to fly away again, but he turned back to look at me one last time, disappointment shadowing his eyes. “You know, when you first looked at me, you had this look in your eyes I knew what it was like to be a real person for the first time. But I realize now that was just a stupid mistake. It was just because you didn’t see who I really was. It’s a shame that you aren’t well, like you said, different.”
He jumped into the air with these words, his slender wings moving so quickly that they almost appeared to be frozen in place. The enormous room felt silent to me, even though it was still filled with the noise of rustling bushes and an odd, low humming that I couldn’t identify. However, I didn’t have any time to think about what had just happened, since the sound of Eliana’s shouts filled the air as she searched for me.
“You know that I’m very disappointed in your behavior, Velia,” Councillor Phena’s voice told me as we made our way back to the entrance.
I didn’t look up at her.
“You shouldn’t have gone around bothering these sorry creatures like you did.”
“Creatures?” I heard my own voice snarling. “Is that what they are to you?”
I had no idea what had caused my outburst. Yet even as I spoke, I found the image of the Halfway boy filling my mind. He certainly wasn’t a creature. What if he really was telling the truth and the others were just the same?
“You watch yourself, Velia,” Councillor Phena warned, her face growing very red. “You are nowhere near old enough to make brave statements like that.”
“And you’re nowhere near wise enough to say that these ‘creatures,’ as you call them, are more like us than you want to admit!”
Councillor Phena pulled her hand back as if she was about to smack me across the face and then seemed to remember the other Councillors were watching and stopped. I turned to look at them, spotting the apprentices’ faces in the mix. They seemed almost scared. But not of Councillor Phena. Of me. Even Eliana wouldn’t meet my eyes.
I looked down at the ground, letting them all head without me for the small opening that led outside. No one seemed to notice that I hadn’t gone with them. Which I had been planning to, just not right away. That was right when someone grabbed my hand from behind me. I whirled around, half-afraid that one of the Councillors was waiting for me. It was the Halfway boy.
“Hey, you never told me your name,” he said, giving me a small smile.
“Neither did you,” I teased.
“Felix. My name is Felix.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled at me. It was clear he had seen what I said to the Councillors. And he liked it.
“Velia,” I told him.
“Well, Velia, I knew I was right about you being different.”
That was the day I felt the change. I already told you that Felix was the one who changed my way of thinking, and I’m not lying. I just wish I hadn’t been so stupid to believe the lies the Councillors have been telling us all these years. However, the rest of my village did not seem to see it the same way. I tried to tell my parents how the Council has been lying to us this whole time about the animalistic traits of the Halfways and the gap of understanding between us and the tribes. But they wouldn’t listen to me. They told me to be quiet and mind my own business just as the Councillors had.
And I understood where they were coming from. After all, they had only been misled just as I had. Once they saw that the Halfways were just like us, surely they wouldn’t feel the same. Which is why I wasn’t expecting what happened next. Well, maybe I should’ve expected it.
I mean, things with Eliana had started to go south after my whole outburst and when I tried to talk to her she told me she didn’t want to have anything to do with a “conspiracy theorist”. So I guess I should’ve known something bad was blowing my way. I just didn’t expect my own best friend or my parents to ask the Councillors to place me under the Reprimandation System. Which, if you’re curious, is pretty much a prison school for law offenders that need to be taught a lesson. Of course, the Council consented to it. After all, I had embarrassed them not only in front of their own citizens but in front of another tribe. Well, if they were even calling Halfways a tribe at this point.
On my last day of freedom before beginning “school,” I found myself standing outside the village right on the edge of a waving field of grass. I had actually just been wondering about Felix and if I was ever going to see him again when something whizzed through the air in front of me and knocked me off my feet.
I found myself staring into the shining blue eyes of a face that I had pictured many many times in my head.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Felix stuttered as we rolled down a nearby hill in a tangle of limbs. “I had to make sure no one saw me.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked, pushing myself up, not sure if I liked how hot my face suddenly felt.
He looked away, his face falling.
“You didn’t hear? Your Councillors didn’t tell you? They want to abolish the Halfway House.”
“But . . . that’s good, isn’t it?”
“Not since we won’t have anywhere else to live. They pretty much want us to be wandering outcasts. I heard one of them say how it was stupid that we need a home provided for us, since even the animals know how to fend for themselves. That’s what they think we are. Animals.”
I opened my mouth to talk when another thought occurred to me.
“Why are you coming to me with this? You only talked to me once. How did you know you could trust me?”
“Well,” he mumbled, looking down. “I knew it was a risk, but I had to tell someone, you know? And you seem to be the only one willing to speak your mind. I know once wasn’t much to go on, but what else do I have? I’ve never even heard of someone speaking up for a Halfway before.”
I looked away feeling ashamed for my past and my people. No wonder the tribes had thought we didn’t belong in this world. Then again, it seemed that they felt nearly the same about Halfways.
“How can I help?” I finally asked.
“Well . . . maybe you could talk to the Councillors?” he asked, and I debated whether I should punch him or give him a consoling hug. His way of thinking was so innocently oblivious.
I shook my head.
“Didn’t you see how badly that went yesterday? I’m already getting punished for what I said. They’re gonna force me to ‘relearn’ the ‘right’ way of thinking. I won’t even be able to set a foot outside of the little building they’re confining me to.”
“Oh. That’s even worse than I would’ve guessed. I mean, I at least thought your people looked out for each other. My people do.”
I hung my head, thinking bitterly of how my own friends and family had turned against me so easily.
“But ” he broke back in hesitating uncertainly. “Couldn’t you maybe still try to convince them? I feel like once you present enough logic, even limp-minded people will have to listen.”
“I ”
The sound of someone shouting my name cut me off abruptly.
Instinctually I stood up and peered over the long grass, trying to get a glimpse of whoever it was.
A firm hand pressed down on my back and dragged me quickly to the ground.
“Stop,” Felix whispered in my ear. “You can’t let them see us together. If what you’ve been saying is true then it would probably put you in danger if you were to be seen associating with me.”
I loosened my tense muscles and nodded understandingly. He was right. But then the shouts rang out again and I realized it was Eliana calling my name.
“Velia? Are you out here? Please don’t hide from me. I know you’re mad, but I wanted to come and apologize. I didn’t mean what I said before, I was just thrown off, that’s all. I still don’t agree with you, but I don’t hate you for what you think.”
I shifted, torn between staying hidden and running to see Eliana.
“Stay here,” I finally told Felix, rising slowly from where I was crouched in the grass.
“Wait ” he tried to protest, but I ignored it.
Coming back over the crest of the hill, I found not only Eliana standing there, but my parents as well as three of the Councillors. A bomb of dread exploded in my stomach as I realized that I should have listened to Felix.
“What were you doing over there, Velia? That’s kind of far to go all by yourself,” Eliana exclaimed with false surprise. I could tell from her eyes that she knew something was up.
“Did you mean what you said?” I snapped, pretending I didn’t notice the audience Eliana had brought.
“What did I say?”
“Your whole apology? About not really hating me?” I pressed.
“What’s that?” Eliana asked suddenly, stepping past me to look down the hill.
I felt a sharp stab pierce my heart as I realized she must have seen Felix. My evil ex-best friend took another step forward before an unearthly hum cut through the air. There was a sudden flash of color and a whir of sound and then I found myself being pulled into the air, one of my legs still dragging on the ground.
“What are you doing?!” I shouted up at Felix.
“Saving you!” he grunted, as his skinny wings hummed desperately.
“Velia!” I heard my father’s voice roar. “Fight that thing! Free yourself!”
I looked down and saw my father’s head was barely a yard beneath my feet.
“Felix,” I whispered. “You might want to go faster.”
“I’m trying,” he was muttering, when suddenly a hand closed around my ankle.
We were suddenly thrown off balance and I felt myself jerk downward as Felix careened into the nearby undergrowth.
My stomach slammed to the ground barely a second before I felt my jaw crack on the hard surface of the earth. As blood filled my mouth and a strange heat crowded my vision, I was aware of my father’s hand on my shoulder. He jerked me roughly to my feet and what I saw in his eyes made my stomach turn. He hadn’t even tried to catch me.
“What were you doing, Velia? What were you thinking? Don’t you know this is betrayal?”
I heard a gasp behind him but I didn’t look to see who it was. Even if I could’ve seen past the squirming, cloudy blur in my eyes I didn’t want to look at the face of someone who had betrayed me. Yeah right, betrayal. They were the ones who were the traitors. After all, Eliana must’ve known something was up.
I don’t know how she knew but she totally set me up.
“He’s right,” I heard one of the Councillors say. Councillor Phena. My Councillor.
“You know, I never thought I would have to say this to my daughter,” my father was saying. “I never wanted to have to ”
Yes you did! I thought bitterly. You’ve been waiting your whole life for an excuse like this!
“ but I need to make the hard choice here. Velia, you are worthy of nothing more than exile.”
There was an awkward silence and for a moment I thought that Eliana might stand up against him. Or maybe even my mother. But then they started clapping. Applauding. This was exactly what they had all been hoping for.
I felt my whole body drooping in defeat as I backed up. I vaguely wondered what they would do if I merely collapsed on the ground. Probably yell at me. Which was when I noticed the hazy outline in the undergrowth had just started moving again and I realized I had forgotten about Felix.
“Get out of here,” I mumbled as loudly as I could without catching my parents’ attention.
But it was too late; my father had already seemed to notice the movement behind me and he was honed in like a wolf. His head jerked toward me as Felix stumbled to his feet, as if he was afraid I might run off if he went after the Halfway.
I looked my father straight in the eyes and then back at Felix. The poor boy didn’t stand a chance. I looked at my father again. I was already in enough trouble as it was, what did it matter at this point?
As Felix hovered weakly into the air, I lunged at my father, taking his legs out from beneath him. A hand smashed into my jaw but I ignored it as I watched Felix speed away with a pitying glance. What did it matter that my own father had hit me? After all, I was already being exiled. In fact, my parents probably didn’t even see me as a daughter anymore.
I’m so sorry, I saw Felix mouth before he disappeared. My father dragged me to my feet, holding me an arm’s length from himself. He was fuming.
“You’re lucky that we’re being merciful enough to exile you. Actions like this are worthy of execution,” he growled, foam dotting his lips.
“Silence, Roudan,” Councillor Phena commanded. “This situation does not lie within your power any longer. Velia, come, you will be receiving your public sentence shortly.”
She stepped forward and snatched my wrist roughly, and I looked back towards the sky where Felix had flown away. This might be the last time that I would ever see him.
Being honest, the public trial wasn’t the worst thing that I had ever gone through. I had been abandoned by my parents and mocked by my best friend, so at this point being rejected by my
village didn’t really matter. But that didn’t make it any better either. As I received my sentence I could see hate and disgust written on every face in sight. What was my sentence? To spend the rest of my life in the Golden Tribe’s relocation program. It had never been used before, but there was a weak enough connection between my tribe and the Goldens that it still held out. The relocation program in itself was pretty much just having to live as a low-ranking servant in the Golden Palace and learning how to adapt to such change. It was a little-known fact that this was really because the Councillors wanted to see if long-term exposure to the tribes was what caused Halfways to form.
That night the Councillors sent out a message sling, which is pretty much just a note with little wings set out on a slingshot.
I was hoping that whoever sent the message that night would have really bad aim. Sadly they didn’t, since I found my guide waiting outside the city for me the next morning.
The tall Golden shifted on one of his four feet before staring down at me with his spinning amber brown eyes. He brushed some early morning dew from his fur and fluttered his wings impatiently.
I felt the Councillors behind me shrink back somewhat and I was tempted to do the same. Everything about this Golden Tribesman screamed intimidation.
“IIIIII aaaaaaam Eeeeeesculdaaaan,” he said without opening his mouth. His words were slurred and he seemed to be struggling to properly pronounce our human words while still using his natural form of buzzing-like communication.
“Right, so you’ll just take her off our hands then?” one of the Councillors asked, placing their hand on my shoulder as if they were ready to shove me forward and sprint back to the village.
Esculdan nodded. He moved towardd me and I flinched away.
“Wait,” I protested, feeling that I deserved to ask at least one question at this point. “How will I get there?”
Esculdan nudged a large brown bag hanging to his side that I hadn’t noticed until now. As he opened it up I noticed a handful of soft yellow dust fall out and land on the ground.
“Nectar-dust bag,” he grunted, or rather, buzzed, through the small air holes that ran all along his lower body.
“How will I fit?”
Without a word he took his claw and pressed it down into the shoulder-type bag and pushed. The fabric instantly stretched out like a water-droplet, making it clear that it was meant to hold more than it appeared to be able.
“Oh,” I mumbled, shifting uncomfortably. I wasn’t sure how to feel about this. Then again, it was better than staying at the village, with a bunch of liars who apparently hated my guts now.
The Councillors didn’t even bother to say goodbye before heading back toward the village, leaving me alone with a complete stranger from another tribe. I held my breath in an attempt to not quiver. Esculdan stared at me, neither cold nor friendly. We both stood there awkwardly for a minute before the Golden Tribesman set his bag down and gestured for me to crawl into it. I did just so, but not without almost falling on my own face from nervousness. Once I was settled, Esculdan merely picked up the bag like I weighed no more than a baby goat and slung it over his shoulder. Then, not even wasting
a second, he leapt into the air, leaving my stomach on the ground. Wind whipped at my hair, blowing it in my eyes and blinding me as Esculdan drifted up the side of the cliff. Which, I was honestly glad to not be able to see, because if I had I might’ve thrown up.
So it was a good thing when I finally felt the world stop moving and we alighted down onto a platform that was really built of solid gold either that or something that looked exactly like gold, from the way it shimmered in the early morning sun.
Esculdan set the bag down on the jutting platform of the entrance and let me climb out. Then he made his way down the wide corridor before me. All around me splendor filled hallways. The enormous golden and cream structure stretched way up high and was filled with other Golden Tribespeople, calmly going about their business. Flickering sconces embedded with silver and filled with a bubbling liquid lined the walls all along the way. Along one side of the hallway was a large opening that led into enormous indoor gardens filled with trees and shining rivers. More yellow dust floated through the air and I had to hold back a sneeze as I saw it plastered on the furry coats of the Tribespeople everywhere.
I could feel pointed stares aimed in my direction as I passed by, and kept my head down, pretending I didn’t notice.
“Are we going to see the Queen?” I finally asked.
“No. This is not important enough,” Esculdan hummed, giving a subtle flick to his tail. “I am taking you to your quarters.”
“As in living quarters?”
He nodded again, staying silent. A moment later, we stopped near something like a large somewhat shimmery cell. I observed the rounded edges of the compartment as the middle of the surface dimpled like water and then slid open softly.
The room inside, though still very cell-like, had a nice warm and comforting air to it that I had never personally experienced even within my own home. One part of the silky-golden wall had a strange bright and filmy look to it almost as if it was a very blurry window letting in sunlight. I later found out that it was actually a sealed compartment holding some sort of glowing fungus that could be easily dimmed by smearing water on the film of the compartment and revived even more easily by blowing on it. There was also an odd and deformed yellow lump that covered what looked to be a table.
I gestured to the lump, somewhat trying to hide my disgust for whatever the oozing bulbous form was.
“Your bed,” Esculdan replied when he saw confusion.
I tried to hold back a gag. There was no way he was telling the truth. Was it possible that he was joking?
But no, he remained staring at me expectantly, as if he thought I was going to try it out. I didn’t move.
The Tribesman made a sort of whizzing sound through his air holes that, if I would’ve had to guess, I would’ve said sounded a lot like a human sigh. He walked closer to the bed and waved his claw as if beckoning for me to come over. I reluctantly obeyed. Then, making sure I was watching, he took his claw and pressed it into the yellow sludge. In his claw sank, but it didn’t disappear. Instead the yellow ooze took form around it and held still almost as if it was more solid than it appeared to be. More curious than repulsed at this point, I took my hand and did the same. It didn’t feel like slime at all. Instead, I got a light and almost rushing sensation beneath my palm as if my hand suddenly weighed nothing. I could hardly imagine what it would feel like to sleep on.
Esculdan nodded at me approvingly and explained how worker Tribesmen slept only very sparse hours so it was critical that their sleep be as deep and comfortable as possible. Then he showed me the small basin along the wall covered in flowers and other small green plants that was collecting water from a dewdrop on the ceiling. Somehow it had never overflowed. Before leaving he told me I could roam wherever I pleased as long as I wasn’t disrupting anything. He was also the one in charge of watching over me, so if I caused trouble he would personally see to it that I was miserable. Then he walked out and left me alone in the relatively empty cell.
The smooth walls dimpled behind him and closed in on me, adding to the already overwhelming loneliness that I felt. Then again, what else was I supposed to feel? Happy? After my own parents had teamed up with my best friend to get me exiled? Now that my whole village hated me? And I was an outcast? There was virtually no one left in the world who even wanted me. Well, maybe Felix did, but that was only because he had thought I could give him a chance at freedom. Now he had flown off to who knows where and I was abandoned in the middle of a tribe who could just barely understand the human language.
With these lovely thoughts filling my head, I flopped on the strange yellow blob bed and realized I hadn’t even been given time to bring a spare change of clothes. I let out a sigh which turned into a shudder and closed my eyes. I only wished the bed wasn’t so intensely comfortable so I could actually sulk properly.
The next morning I awoke with an almost unnatural peace that had settled deep into my bones. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, which for some reason weren’t even the slightest bit blurry, and immediately jumped when I found Esculdan staring patiently at me.
“Uh. How long have you been standing here?”
“Since sunrise.”
I shifted uncomfortably, having no real way to know how long it had been since then. I would just have to hope it wasn’t too long.
“Wait,” I said, realizing something. “Did I sleep all through yesterday?”
Esculdan nodded.
“How?!”
“Because of calm,” he said, as if that explained everything.
When I thought it over it did kind of make sense. I had been pretty pent up after everything that had happened. It would only make sense that my body would collapse at the first sign of a reprieve. I turned to him and shrugged.
That day I followed Esculdan on a tour of the whole palace. The only place I didn’t get to see was the throne room because the Queen had specifically requested not to see me. I didn’t care.
After all, what was it to me that one more person didn’t want me? It wasn’t like I was an object of much value at this point.
The tour started with the huge kitchens (I guess they could be called that, I don’t know if they have a word for it in my language) where they did about a hundred different things to transform the yellow powder, or dust-nectar as they called it, into Golden Nectar. From there I saw the many corridors and vast halls that filled the palace before ending at the nursery.
The nursery was a very large open space filled with golden fields of grass and trees that held shimmering dewdrops. Being honest, I hardly realized it was a nursery because of the odd quiet that hung over the place. There was no crying, no screaming, no running chil-
dren. Though I wasn’t really expecting that the small white bundles that crawled slowly here and there would actually be their children. At first I was kind of creeped out because from afar they looked like sickly little lumps (which I felt bad for thinking because, I mean, these were their kids). However, when one of them sort of slunk by I noticed it was actually kind of cute. It had these big black eyes that took up most of its shapeless face and little feathery wisps that covered its body. It mostly just looked like a little furry creature, if I’m being honest.
I fought the urge to reach out and pet one of them, imagining it would probably be really offensive if I did something like that. Besides, I could feel Esculdan’s eyes burning into my back so intensely I knew he wouldn’t hesitate if I did something even barely questionable.
Which was when I saw it. My normal instincts told me to just ignore it, that surely all overseers in the nursery would notice if something was actually wrong. But I couldn’t ignore it. Deep down inside I knew that no one had seen it. That no one would. Not before it was too late. And it was the eyes. The huge black eyes pleading with me as if they knew very well what was about to happen. I couldn’t help but picture Felix in their place.
So I ran. I sprinted across the green fields, ignoring Esculdan’s angry shout followed by the threatening hum of his wings, and watching my feet to make sure I didn’t trample any of the Tribespeople’s children. I was closer now. Though a deep fear in my stomach made me wonder if I was going to make it. And what if Esculdan caught me before then? I could almost feel the buzz of his paper-thin wings on my back as I ducked behind an especially large tree to avoid him. Up ahead, I could see the tree. My suspicions had been right. The angle it was sitting at had been odd. Now I could hear the deep crackling noise of roots splitting as the tree leaned even further to the side. Beneath it the tiny fuzzy lump watched me in terror, its huge eyes begging for help. I knew it wasn’t fast enough. I had already seen how slowly the other whelps drifted across the ground.
I was barely ten feet away when a huge snapping sound split the air. This time I knew every guard in the nursery had heard it. I could almost sense their heads jerking up as their eyes honed in on the source of the sound. They were too far away. I was the tiny Golden’s only chance. I was three feet away now and I could see the roots finally giving away as the huge log swayed. It was falling.
Sucking in a deep breath, I leapt and closed my eyes. A small but warm bundle of fur filled my arms as a sound very similar to roaring thunder filled my ears. Then I collided with solid earth and an intense pain suddenly ricocheted through my ankle.
Opening my eyes, I found Esculdan and more than a few unfamiliar Tribesmen standing over me. But they weren’t looking at me. They were looking behind me.
Loosening my death grip on the little Golden so one of the guards could take it from my hands, I turned my neck as well as I could and looked. My left leg was completely buried beneath the tree. Which explains why I had to strain my neck to look, seeing as I was pinned. And then I felt the pain, which led me to scream until I felt like I couldn’t breathe because I had never felt anything so intense. It felt like the insides of my leg had been ripped apart and then torn out. And then maybe rubbed all over the ground for good measure.
I stared at Esculdan through the pain, watching him rummage through one of the many bags that he carried strapped to his torso. The other Tribesmen surrounded me, or rather the log, each laying their claws in a rut in the bark of the tree. As I felt them begin to lift the log off of me Esculdan pulled a violet blossom out of one of the pouches and approached me. At first I thought he had just brought
me something to smell to distract myself from the pain. However, when I breathed in the sweet, racing smell that I could only compare to raspberries and pink colored clouds, everything went dim and then I couldn’t see anything at all.
My eyes opened suddenly and I felt as if my body was hovering in the air weightlessly. All except for my leg, which had this odd swaying feeling as if a river was somehow rushing through it.
Sitting up, I found I was on one of the strange yellow beds again. Except this time, my left leg was wrapped in what appeared to be large, translucent blue leaves. Looking at it hard enough I saw I could see directly through the leaves and to my leg. I nearly screamed. All over my leg, veins were swelling and swarming and looking way too much like a hoard of snakes. I reached to rip the leaves off when a low buzz-hiss sound interrupted me. I turned to see an unfamiliar Tribeswoman standing there.
“That would be bad,” she hummed, seeming to struggle through the words.
“Taking this off?” I asked, pointing to the leaves.
She nodded and clipped her wings together softly.
She moved over to my leg and I suddenly realized I could see sunlight reflecting off her face. I glanced over, seeing I was in a different cell than before, and this time there was a large, open window across the right side of the room. Then I turned back to the Tribeswoman as she prodded at my bandaged leg.
“Hmmmm,” she droned, and I wondered if that was just a sound she made or if she was genuinely curious about something.
“Is something wrong?” I queried tentatively.
“Strange,” was all she said.
I tensed up, knowing that couldn’t be a good thing.
“I come back,” she hissed softly. “And the Queen wants see you.”
“Wait, what?” I called after her.
She kept walking out as if she hadn’t understood what I had said but she stopped right before the opening and turned to look at me.
“Thank you,” she mumbled. “You save my child.”
Then she walked out and I was left to think through everything that had happened. Which was a lot. Eventually, I found myself staring out the window, counting every bubble-shaped cloud in the sky. Maybe the purple rain would come early this year.
Suddenly, there was a dark flicker through the clouds. For a moment, I had to wonder if I’d imagined it, after all, the shape had looked somewhat familiar. But then, the dark shape grew bigger and I felt my heart give an odd dropping feeling in my chest when I realized it was headed straight for my window. I closed my eyes and opened them again, hoping desperately that I wasn’t seeing things and then, without a further warning, Felix dropped abruptly into my room.
He grinned when he saw me and I tried not to look too startled. Or excited.
“I knew I could find you,” he said, moving a step closer to the bed before seeing the leaf-wrapping on my leg.
“How did you ” I began to ask, but he held up a hand uncomfortably, as if he really didn’t want to discuss it.
“You shouldn’t worry yourself with that. At least, not for now,” he
told me, muttering the last part beneath his breath. “Anyway, what happened? What did you do to your leg?”
“I it’s kind of a bit of a story,” I mumbled.
He opened his mouth as if he was about to ask for the story and then he glanced back outside.
“You can tell me on the way,” he finally said.
“What? On the way to where?”
“Well don’t you want to escape here?”
I opened my mouth to say “yes” when I suddenly realized I didn’t really mean it. Because, being honest, here had actually started to feel . . . right. I didn’t really know how to put it. Maybe it was just the effects of good hospitality on me. Who knew?
“I I don’t know,” I mumbled.
“What do you mean you don’t know? Aren’t you in exile right now?”
“Wait, how do you know about that?”
He looked away, his face changing color a tiny bit.
“I watched.”
“Oh.”
He opened his mouth to say one thing and then shook his head.
“You know what, I’ll leave you to think it over a bit. I’ll give you all day, then I’ll meet you back here tonight at moonrise, at this same window for your answer,” he told her, turning back to the windowsill.
“Wait,” I called after him. “You’re leaving me?”
“Just for now.”
He gave me a small smile before leaping back into the sky, his black and white wings catching the wind elegantly. Pretty soon he was just another speck in the sky, indistinguishable from the mosaic of other Tribespeople and birds.
I closed my eyes, sinking back into the airy cloud of my bed. Maybe it would be better to take a small nap before making any difficult decisions, I told myself. I drifted off so soundlessly that I didn’t remember when I had opened my eyes. All I knew was that I was staring out the window again, looking at the sky that had now just begun to turn orange with the setting sun.
Another speck appeared in the sky once again growing larger as it came closer to my window. I felt my heart flutter again in excitement but part of me also wondered why he was here so early. And what I would say to him as my answer.
Yet, when I blinked I realized that the shape seemed kind of . . . off. Whoever it was, it definitely wasn’t Felix. Which was when I wondered who exactly it could be. Then again, I didn’t really have to wonder for long since within another few seconds they slid heavily through the window.
The hulking gray body was a bit shorter than a Golden Tribesperson but way more muscular, with huge gleaming claws and impressive mandibles that could’ve snapped me in half. Their lacy wings fluttered impatiently on their back as they took another step toward me. A Clay Tribesman.
“Get up,” he hissed at me in a much hollower and deeper voice than any Golden Tribesman.
“W—why?” I stuttered, shrinking back in my bed.
“We’re getting you out of here.”
We’re? Who is we? I wondered.
I got my answer a second later as another Clay Tribesperson dropped through the window.
“Come, or we’ll bind your hands and feet,” the second one snarled. He held out a sharp object that reminded me very much of a human spear and drew it back threateningly. “Make a sound and it’ll be the last time.”
I debated for a moment and then I noticed the spear really was trained directly on my neck. Trembling, I slid out of bed and wobbled as another strange rush pulsed through my damaged leg. The first one picked me up none too gently and held me as if I weighed no more than a grain of sand. Then I noticed a strange stretcher-type formation strapped to the back of his companion. Of course it was made from clay. The first one set me down on the clay stretcher in a lying position, nudging my hands and feet till they were moved in very specific areas. Then he grabbed what looked like a lid indented to the exact size of a person on the big gray stretcher and pulled it down over me, pinning me in place. I squirmed, or rather tried to, feeling very claustrophobic with this new arrangement.
“Is this really necessary?” I whimpered desperately. “It is,” the first one lisped. “It is the only safe way.”
I seriously doubted that, but there was nothing I could say to contradict it. Within moments the second one leapt out the window with me and I slammed my eyes shut hoping I didn’t throw up in such a helpless position. Which, at the speed we were flying, I’m not sure how I didn’t, but by the time we stopped moving I was sure that my whole face was a vibrant green. Opening my eyes I saw brown and gray all around me as we entered the large clay structure before us. The Clay Palace.
The two Tribesmen didn’t even bother releasing me, they just walked through the narrow, dusty tunnels with me still on the stretcher. Hardly any sconces broke up the monotony of the dark gray walls and when they did they were dim and hardly gave off any light. After so long tramping through repeated surroundings I found myself losing focus. I only snapped back when we came to an abrupt stop. The first Clay unlatched the lid on the stretcher and let me slide to the ground, not even bothering to shield my fall.
In front of us stood an enormous set of embroidered doors that were set with a stone that looked something like marble. One of them stooped to brush some dust off my shoulders before straightening up and pounding a heavy claw on the door. As it opened we were met by two Clay guards even taller than Esculdan and more muscular than the other Tribesmen I had seen. They nodded once before letting us pass through. Which is where I saw (I say this in least mean way possible, I promise) the most enormous Tribesperson I had ever before seen. The Clay Tribe Queen. Her entire form filled the giant marble throne that she sat in, and her giant snout had rubies embedded in it. She stared down at me with her harsh black eyes, tapping her claw slowly on the arm of her throne.
“So human, I’ve heard that you have quite a disposition for causing trouble,” she rasped at me.
“Where did you hear that?” I snapped.
“I have sources.”
I looked away, knowing something was definitely off here.
“But my question is,” she continued, annunciating her words through her air holes much better than any Tribesperson I had met at this point. “Would you be willing to help us go against the people you have wronged so much? After all, they have betrayed you. And how awful you must feel, you poor, poor child.”
I grimaced at her words. As nice as I wished they could feel, I knew I was only being patronized.
“Why would you think I would help you? You just kidnapped me!”
“Well, darling, we all have to take certain precautions sometimes. Would you have really come if I had told you the truth?”
“Maybe,” I muttered, still not looking up.
The Queen made a surprisingly convincing tsk-tsk sound before shaking her head at me.
“You sad, unwanted child. Don’t you see that someone finally needs you now? You can finally be of some use. Besides, wouldn’t you like to see the smiles wiped off the faces of your awful little family and pathetic friend?”
My head jerked up.
“How do you know that?” I demanded.
“I can tell you . . . if you agree to let me know a couple teeny-tiny details.”
“Like what?”
“Like, how many weapons are in your little village? Are there any trained fighters? What defenses are there that the other tribes don’t know about? How efficient are humans really? What is the minimum amount of sleep you can survive on? Things like that.”
“What? You seriously think that I would betray my own people?”
“They betrayed you.”
That cut straight to my heart. She was right. They had betrayed me. They deserved no loyalty from me whatsoever. But . . . I couldn’t just turn on them. They were the people that I had lived with my whole life. Even if they hated me now . . . I could’ve sworn there was a time when they had actually cared. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe they really did deserve to be wiped out. Yet, if something like that were to happen . . . well, there would be no chance for understanding. Not now, not ever.
I turned to look the Queen straight in the eyes.
“No. I won’t do it.”
She stared back at me for a moment in silence and I waited for her to yell and scream and maybe chop my head off. Then she clapped her wings once and gave the equivalent of a shrug.
“It was worth a try,” she said.
Then she made a hissing sound that was most definitely something in her own language. She turned her huge, elegant snout away as the two guards stepped forward and seized me by the shoulders. The sunlight that fell on her shoulders from the huge open space behind her was the last real light I would see for the next three days.
I don’t know how long it was before I heard the whisper in the dark. As soon as they started though, they didn’t stop. From my tiny cell in the dark I couldn’t tell if the sound was murmuring of other prisoners or a sound my sense-deprived mind created to fill the empty space. All I knew is that I wanted it to stop. It messed with my sense of time, made me unsure of how long I had really been sitting there. But the moment I heard Felix’s voice in the mix, I
nearly jumped from my skin. I nearly thought it was just another one of the voices until I felt a hand reach through the bars and rest on top of my own. Then I screamed.
“Shhhhh,” he scolded, putting his hand over my mouth in the dark.
“Do you know how long it took me to find you? It’s gonna be hard enough getting you out of here without the entire Clay Army chasing after us. Don’t you hear those whispers? That’s them in the tunnels. Get ready for a battle or something.”
“Wait, I’m not going crazy then?” I whispered when I finally pulled his hand off my mouth. Then I realized something else. “A battle?!”
“Yeah but that doesn’t concern us,” he told me, swinging the rusty bars open somehow.
“Yes, it does.”
“Why?”
“Felix, they’re going to wipe out the humans.”
“So?” he snapped, taking my hand and pulling me down the dark tunnels. We were under the ground somewhere. “They deserve it, why not let the Clay Tribe go through with it?”
“Remember how you felt about the humans mistreating your people?” I snapped back. “Well this is much worse than that and these are my people.”
“I thought you hated them.”
“I do. But that doesn’t make it right.”
Felix let out a really really long sigh before turning around to head the opposite way and saying, “Fiiiiine. Have it your way. But I can’t guarantee that this tunnel actually leads out. All I heard one of the Tribesmen say was that it led to the village.”
“Good enough for me.”
“Are we even going anywhere?” I heard myself ask twenty minutes later in the pitch dark of the second tunnel. My bad leg was pounding oddly and I was leaning on Felix for fear that I would damage it more.
“You tell me, this was your idea,” Felix said with what felt like a shrug.
Then suddenly, there was a light ahead. Felix ran toward it, almost leaving me behind before he remembered. He slowed down and we both walked toward it together. It was not an exit. But it was a hole that I could see through. And it looked directly out onto the main street that ran through Cleftridge. The Marketing Road. And today was an open stall day. All up and down the wide mainstreet ran a variety of vendors, all clamoring for the attention of those passing by. Spices of exotic foods filled the air and colors flashed as scarfs and other items of clothing were pawned off by well-spoken salespeople.
“Felix,” I whispered, my heart suddenly in my throat. “This is where they’re planning to attack.”
“You’re right,” said a whispery voice in the dark behind us. “It really is a shame that you won’t be alive to lead us into battle in two minutes isn’t it?”
I felt Felix tense up next to me in the dark.
“Jump,” he whispered.
“What?”
“JUMP!”
Before I had time to understand what he meant, he shoved me into the foot-sized opening and the dirt around me crumbled. I slid out into the middle of the Marketing Road with Felix right behind me.
“Run!” he hollered at the merchants, staring confusedly at the girl and the Halfway who had just popped out of the ground. Then he grabbed my arms and pulled me into the air a half second before the entire ground sank inwards and the Clay Tribe rushed from the earth.
Everything after that was a hazy blur. People screaming and fleeing helplessly from the spears of the Clay Tribesmen. Fires erupting. Felix setting me down on the sloped roof of a building. A familiar face in the crowd. Eliana. She ran towards the Clay people, pointing to herself and then to them as if she had an offer to make. One of the surlier guards stepped forward and for a moment I thought it was surely the end of her. Then the guard nodded and motioned for his squadron to follow. It took me a moment to realize what was happening. But then I saw where Eliana was heading. She was leading them directly to the weapons deposit.
Not if it was up to me. Which I didn’t think it was but then my adrenaline kicked in and I found myself telling Felix, “Stay here, I’ll only be a minute.”
I then leapt twenty feet across to the next rooftop using my bad leg.
Wait, what? Which is when I realized that healing stuff for my leg must have been crazy powerful because it now seemed that my ‘bad’ leg was now infused with some kind of insane strength. My mind hardly had time to puzzle all this out before I caught up with Eliana.
But what had I intended to do? Would I warn someone? Who? It already seemed that at least a few people were ready and had started arming themselves against the Clay Tribe, but the number was pitifully few and decreasing by the second. So I shrugged and threw myself at Eliana.
Something crunched as I landed on top of her but she still staggered to her feet a second later.
“What are you doing, you idiot?!” she screeched at me. “Can’t you see you’re on the losing side?”
She swiped her lip where it had split and I realized that she was somewhat right. Not that I agreed with her obviously. It was just that I was now surrounded by an entire squadron of Clay soldiers. The surly one grinned maliciously as he stepped forward to grab my neck. The second before his claw closed, someone’s heavy foot smashed into the side of his snout from above.
Felix landed on the ground beside me and stared defiantly up at the guard.
“Stop! You have to get out of here while you still can!” I yelled at him.
“You’re going to die!”
He grinned at me.
“And there’s not a better person to die with.”
I know it was the worst time possible but my heart still fluttered idiotically in my chest. Especially when he twined his fingers with mine and closed his eyes.
“You stupid doofus,” I whimpered admiringly.
“Yeah, well you’re both stupid doofuses then,” Eliana snarked.
I really wanted to turn and punch the disgusting smirk off her face. But I didn’t. I turned and stared up at the guard, watching as he raised what looked like a cruelly spiked mace above his head. As horrible as it was, I wanted to see the moment that it happened.
The soldier raised it high and then tensed up, preparing to bash in both of our skulls. Then he collapsed to the ground. I barely saw the barbed tail the moment it flicked away from the newly deceased corpse, and back towards its owner.
“Esculdan!” I shouted.
My former guide flashed me a grin before turning and flying directly into the heat of the battle. Followed by at least two hundred other Golden soldiers.
The applause and cheering that followed within the next few minutes was intense. The humans probably hadn’t expected any of the tribes to step in and help out. But they had. The Golden Tribe had come to help for a reason that I still couldn’t explain. Without them, we would’ve lost. Not long after they showed up the Clay Tribe began retreating back into the gaping hole they had torn in the Marketing Road. My village stood around the hole with their swords raised and watched them go. When they couldn’t see the dark bodies flashing in the shadows anymore, they erupted into a shout of triumph. But it didn’t take long for them to fall silent again.
The enormity of what had happened was now crashing over everyone. I could see the devastation and panic on the faces of those around me and I almost felt sorry for them. A couple people were rushing around calling names and poking underneath the stiff Clay bodies. More than a few unmoving humans lay among them. One or two of the Golden Tribe were even helping what looked like young mothers searching for their missing children or vice versa.
Esculdan landed beside me and stared somberly ahead.
“Why did you help us?” I asked him.
“Because of you,” was his simple reply.
I felt a bit taken aback by this and I fell silent, hoping he would say more.
“We informed the Queen of your brave deed. When she saw that just one human had a good heart she ordered us to come to the defense of your people. Even if they do not deserve it, we gave it to them on your behalf.”
I looked down and felt my eyes blurring up. No one had ever said anything like that about me before. I cleared the thickness in my throat before stuttering my gratitude. Which was when I realized I was still holding Felix’s hand. I moved to let go, but he squeezed it, looking deep into my eyes.
I coughed and looked away, feeling very uncomfortable all of the sudden. So I was almost kind of glad when Councillor Phena walked up to me and dipped a curtsy to Esculdan.
“We are forever in your debt,” she told him, clearly having spotted the heavy leadership he had carried in this battle.
“Do not thank me,” he replied to her. “Thank Velia. She has given your people grace in our eyes enough to spare you.”
Councillor Phena bit back what looked like a grimace but she still forced herself to face me and say, “Thank you, Velia. We owe you our gratitude. We accept you back at Cleftridge if you desire to stay here.”
I shook my head. I didn’t care if I could see my father nodding at me pleadingly from behind the other Councillors. My mother was noticeably missing, but I was still able to see every single one of my sisters. It kind of hurt to think that my mother was gone, but I realized that if I stayed here I would only have to feel that pain more. I knew my father. He would treat me nicely for two days, maybe three and then he would start blaming me for everything that had happened. I knew he was hurting. But . . . I was hurting too. And being honest, I finally found a place where I felt like I belonged. As nice as it sounded to be welcomed back as a hero, it was nicer still to belong because I was actually wanted.
I glanced at Esculdan and he seemed to know what I was thinking. He nodded ever so slightly. My heart grew warmer in my chest with that simple motion, but then I remembered Felix and turned to peer at him in question.
“What about you?”
“Me?” he asked, rubbing his neck and looking away. “I don’t know.”
I turned to look at Esculdan again, hoping he would nod in approval. He didn’t. Instead he turned to Councillor Phena and said, “Our Queen demands an audience with your entire Council. She wants you to come to the Great Hall of our palace on the next full moon to discuss some very important things with all the other tribe leaders.”
“Like what?” the Councillor demanded.
“You will have to see.”
The night of that full moon is something that I will never forget as long as I live. To think that humans would finally be recognized as one of the tribes of Veryaa is beyond me. Especially since they hardly deserved it. However, many treaties were formed ensuring the proper treatment of every tribe, including humans. All they had to do was abide by the equality of the law, which meant abandoning all prejudices on every side.
Even to that of the Halfways.
While I won’t say it all worked out perfectly, I will say it was a change. No change is ever truly complete, but I will say they can continue to get better. Which is what our world aimed for. Just having all the leaders of the world in one place without an eruption of violence was something. And something is where everyone has to start when it comes to change.
I should also say that more than a few good things happened that night. For one, Felix was granted permission to come reside with the Golden Tribe and I was granted citizenship with them after I had proven I cared for their own just as much as they did. Eliana was branded as a traitor amongst the newly christened Human Tribe and exiled to live with SilkCrawlers in the Upper Woods.
And I . . . Well, I finally found a place where I belonged. It wasn’t much, but sometimes it really is the smallest of things that make the real difference.
About the Author
Casey Hunsicker is a 2025 graduate of Lutheran West. She will continue creative writing as she pursues a degree in English at Cuyahoga Community College.
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