SWC Daily 2: Thriller
2nd March The name of my Writing Thread is from this session's SWC theme, fairytales! I'm planning to do this every session!

Compliment: “You're like a dandelion—fuzzy, soft and lovable!” -starunicorn_5

I craned my head lazily, facing the heaps of paperwork in front of me. Not today. I couldn't do it today.
Managing a library is hard. It's not easy for me, as a sixteen-year-old who works part-time here. You wouldn't believe the amount of people who don't return the books they borrow or the literal psychopaths who have the audacity to crack the spines of the books. It gives me chills everytime I see a cracked spine and I am infinitely grateful to those considerate enough who realise that book spines are not to be cracked. They're angels who walk this earth, I swear.
There's that one boy, nearly my age, who has been visiting for years now. It's been.. how long? Three years, I think. Every other week, he comes in, his bag slung over his shoulder. Everytime, his eyes shine with excitement as he comes in, eager and hungry for a new book. What worlds will he unlock? What dark, dark secrets will he discover? What is he going to learn? What mystery will he uncover? What's going to make him cry for days on end? Which character will he hate, and which will he grow to love? It's a guessing game when it comes to books, except it never really ends. There's an abundance of knowledge and wealth to be found in books.
He came in today, smiling as usual. My heart raced as I gazed, once again, into his dreamy hazel eyes. We had grown to become good friends, and we talked quite a bit. After all, we had almost similar reading tastes. He walked up to me, grinning broadly.
“Ahh. The library again. How I wish I could stay here.” He proceeded to pull up a chair and sit beside me.
“What have you been reading lately, Amber?” He asked. I almost choked on my water. The way he said my name was beautiful.
“Oh.. um… I haven't read in a while now, I'm busy with schoolwork and managing the library.” I replied, trying to calm myself down. What was wrong with me?!
He chuckled, and my blush deepened. Glancing over at me, he said with a slight smirk, “you're like a dandelion—fuzzy, soft, and lovable!”
“E-excuse me?” I asked nervously, twiddling with my fingers.
“Nothing.” He scratched the back of his neck, the colour rising in his cheeks. He tried to change the topic by saying, “I know a good cafe where they provide us with books to read, we should go there together sometime.”
I smiled, despite the fact that I was a mess both internally and externally. “Certainly. I should love that.”
We just laughed nervously, and he returned his book as I made an entry in the logbook against his name, my heart positively thumping.

The Fairy Council's Record Book
Week 1: (1 March–7 March)
Daily 2: +446 words
Fanfiction: +2024 words

SWC Weekly 1: Thriller
https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/695082/?page=2#post-7838363 — Weekly

Part 1: 844 words
Crossover
Hindu Mythology and Greek Mythology 'cause why not?
For a Goddess of War, or atleast the strategic and intelluctual aspects, Athena actually preferred the peace and quiet at times. It helped her think, meditate, ruminate. She was very introspective and quiet, gotta conserve that brain power, after all. She often found solace to dabble in the fine arts, and quite frequently was found painting, and generously providing for those who weaved baskets or sculpted or created any works of art, really. And honestly it disturbed her inner peace when she found out that two very specific gods were fighting.
“NO! I AM THE GOD OF RAIN AND THUNDER AND THE HEAVENS!” Zeus screamed.
“I AM!” Indra, the Hindu God presiding over the very same aspects, yelled.
“SAYS WHO? I'M WAY COOLER, JUST LOOK AT HOW MANY GODS AND GODDESSES ARE MY CHILDREN!” Zeus replied.
“MAKES SENSE, THAT'S WHY HINDU GODS ARE WAY BETTER! I FEEL BAD FOR YOUR CHILDREN!” Indra retorted huffily.
“I'M WAY MORE FLASHY!” Zeus yelled. “LOOK AT MY THUNDER! AND MY MUSCLES!”
“EXCUSE ME? EVERYONE KNOWS INDIAN RAINS ARE MORE DRAMATIC! ALSO, MUSCLES DON'T MATTER!”
She sighed as she shook her head. They were fighting like children, which, she reasoned, they were, in many ways, given their attitude towards everything. They began fighting over petty things, and throwing stuff at each other, and boy was it her last straw when her favourite tapestry tore cleanly in two by a flash of lightning, her meticulously organised library fell with an ear-splitting “CRASH!” and her carefully and patiently written scrolls were strewn over the floor. ‘THAT’S IT!“ She roared. The two gods had done enough damage.
She needed a mediator and pulled in Krishna with her Quick-Thought.
”Hey, Krishna.“ She called him.
”Yeah?“
”A bit of trouble–“ she began, but stopped short when she saw him casually holding up an entire mountain on his little finger alone, shielding all the people and animals under it. The entire place was flooded.
”Sorry, bit busy!“ He called out cheerfully, and began playing a peaceful music on his flute.
Athena sighed again. She hated that it was taking so long to solve, but she didn't know what else she could do. She decided that her friend, Saraswati, Hindu Goddess of the arts, wisdom, knowledge, and everything related, would be able to do something. She teleported in the blink of an eye to Satyalok, where she knew her friend resided on her lotus with her Veena in hand.
Saraswati was, at that point of time, peacefully playing the Veena all by herself. Brahma was nowhere in sight.
”Saraswati!“ Athena sounded positively relived to see her friend. She was always the calm one, even in the most disturbing situations.
”Where's your husband?“ She asked Saraswati, breaking the latter out of her music-induced trance.
”Hmm? Oh, probably gone to tell another mortal that immortality cannot be granted, and then proceeding to grant a boon that makes them think they're invincible, which requires an overly complicated scheme to get rid of.“ She said disinterestedly. ”Why is it suddenly raining? And what's up with all the thunder and lightning? Oh, let me guess, Zeus and Indra.“
”Yeah, that's why I'm here. Also, it's been like this for a while now, haven't you noticed?“ Athena said.
”I haven't. I find myself caught up in my celestial library or participating in the arts most of the time.“ Saraswati replied as she got off her lotus seat. ”Need some help with those two? Ughh. They're like children. Can't they stay silent for once and let us be peaceful? Even my peacock agrees!“
Athena nodded vigorously. ”Exactly!“ She said.
”Just call on Parvati and ask her to take care of it. Or Vishnu. Or..“ She added thoughtfully, then clapped her hands in delight. ”We could ask them to have a competition! Whoever can make the most barren place the most beautiful and rich with vegetation on earth wins!“
”Uhh, no, Saraswati.“ Athena scoffed, clearly against the idea. ”You're seeing how high-and-mighty they are, right? You call Vishnu, I'll call Hermes. Let them take care of it. A god or goddess from both sides should let them know the seriousness of the situation, it's getting too out of hand now.“
Saraswati strummed her Veena in response, humming. And Athena and Saraswati called upon Hermes and Vishnu respectively, and let them deal with the problem by themselves.
”Problem solved!“ Athena sighed as she slumped onto the couch Saraswati had made for her friend. ”We should treat ourselves to some ambrosia!“
Saraswati agreed wholeheartedly, and added, ”and some rasmalai and mango lassi! With a side of deep intellectual celestial debate while we're at it!“
”Sounds too good to be true, Saraswati!“ Athena exclaimed as she hugged her friend, but quickly broke apart from the embrace, clearing her throat and brushing her clothes.
”So, the study of astronomy or the study of human psychology?“ Saraswati asked her friend, kickstarting the debate.
Vishnu and Hermes, looking from afar, sighed. ”We'll be needed again soon.." They said in unison as they watched the two women debate.

Part 2: 2129 words :0
Original Characters in Historical Times
Character: Cynthia
Story: The Language of the Stars
Age: about 18-20
Interests: Astronomy, Constellations
Special Abilities: The stars have a language of their own, and she can hear them, although she can't always understand them.

Cynthia rummaged through her bag as she looked through her many books about stars and astronomy and constellations. She was bewildered. Not one of them had mentioned something like this; not one of them had mentioned getting sent into the past.
The time period in question was the late 18th Century, and she had received a letter to attend a high-society ball. Her maid gave it to her, saying, “after all, the most ladylike thing to do is accept the gentleman's offer. Would you like me to help you choose an appropriate, prim and proper outfit?”
Cynthia didn't understand two things: one, how they knew of her existence. They certainly weren't surprised to see her, as opposed to how ridiculous she thought this whole affair was. Second, how did all this happen? The last thing she remembered was running her fingers along an old, ruined monument that could reveal secrets about Lunarborns. And here she was.
“No, thank you very much, Agnes.” She told her maid as she took the envelope and shut the door to her room.
“Ladylike. Prim and proper.” She muttered angrily under her breath. “As if I give a * about being ladylike.”
Cynthia, in all her knowledge of herself, was never ladylike. Never. She was born in the 21st century, for crying out loud! This was simply nonsensical!
She frantically paged her well-preserved copies of books and ancient scrolls as she threw the envelope across the room, scoffing. She could hear Agnes still talking outside the door, saying, “your mother says it's about time you find a suitor, miss!”
“I'd rather read ‘The Cosmic Intrigues’ than find a suitor, Agnes!” Cynthia replied. She heard the maid quieten, then say, “Is that a dance step, milady?” Cynthia just sighed and shook her head. “Nevermind, Agnes!” She called. “I'm a bit busy now.”
“But- I was asked to get you ready, milady!” Agnes spluttered.
“Getting me ready can wait, Agnes!” Cynthia said as she flattened the countless skirts on her corset. She hated how stuffy it made her feel. It was different, and completely unlike the usual t-shirt and jeans she wore.
She thumbed through her beloved copy of “The Cosmos: Light, Stars, and Constellations” as she furrowed her brow in thought. With a sudden burst of inspiration, she sat up, eyes wide. She ran across the room and picked up the envelope she had thrown so mercilessly, eyeing the crest on it carefully. Intricately drawn flowers donned the page, and she thought she saw traces of a constellation. It was sprinkled here and there, but it was a constellation she recognised. Carefully, she drew it, part by part. Then she flipped the pages of her book, back and forth, back and forth, until she reached the page she was looking for.

Constellation: Wanderer's Journey
This is a very special constellation, one that is believed to be lost to time. The earliest known mention is of scripts from the 5th Century, and scholars and the Council of Astronomy have officially dismissed the existence of such a constellation.
However, the truth is that it actually existed. After the Great Celestial Battle, the Lunarborns decided that the constellation was too dangerous to be placed in the night sky anymore. Thereafter, they set to work and sealed it off in a monument at Selene, where the forest-dwellers take care of it. The monument is nothing but ruins now, although, strangely, a whole wing still remains undamaged. It is the very wing that contains the sealed constellation.
The ancient texts say that the Lunarborns have warned anyone from so much as touching the symbols. Each symbol on it has serious consequences. This one, in particular, seems to send a person to a different timeline altogether. It is not certain if this is in fact true, but what we do know is that there are plenty of warnings against messing with the symbols. The Wanderer's Journey, in this way, represents what its name suggests. It makes a soul wander, lost to the mystery of time and space.

She gasped at what she'd just read. And that's when she heard it, those voices. She tuned out everything else: the chirping of the birds, the soft rustle of the leaves, the ruffles of fabric, the footsteps outside her room, instead focusing on those voices that called her name. It was the stars.
“The spell will bind you at dawn break”
Cynthia felt out of breath. The stars had communicated with her. What did it all mean? She pondered. Furiously, she tore open the envelope and stared at the letter that she held in her hands, the words written in a floral, elegant script reminiscent of the time period.
Her eyes skimmed through most of the letter, which was just formalities that were needed during writing. Her eyes stopped at a rather curious line:
“Requesting your presence for an astronomical intrigue.” She blinked a few times. She haphazardly threw out all her books, scouring deep in her bag for something very important. At last, she found it. A shard of glass. Not just any shard of glass, mind you, a very special one. It was given by her parents, ever so long ago, when they first learned of her ‘Sense’ — her special ability. Carefully, she curled her open palms into fists, closing her eyes and concentrating on the aura it gave off. She always had a trick to concentrate on the aura of the glass. She always thought to herself, “if the energy given out by this shard of glass right this moment was a colour, what colour would it be?”
The colour at that very moment, she decided, was deep blue. Deep blue and vivid iris. And then she heard the voices again.
“Follow the map.”
Her eyes flew open. “Map. Map. Map.” She muttered to herself, opening books and flipping pages and drawing. Agnes decided to enter that very moment.
“Milady, are you quite alright?” She asked, concerned. In her hand she held an assortment of ball gowns.
“Agnes, where in this godforsaken mansion can I find a map?” Cynthia asked.
“Ma-map, miss? Why in the library of course! But it's getting quite la—” before Agnes could complete, Cynthia dashed off, doing her best not to trip.
She ran through the winding halls and spiralling staircases, paying no heed to her ‘mother’ who yelled, flabbergasted, “young lady! That is no way to behave!”
“Tradition be *, mother!” Cynthia yelled over her back.
She pushed open the door of the library, the gas-lit lamps giving the place a warm glow. Holding up her many skirts, she walked in cautiously to where dusty volumes of books adorned beautifully crafted wooden shelves. She walked the length and breadth of the room, examining each book, each carving on the wood, each hanging lamp. Even the smallest clue as to how she could leave.
She eventually came upon the geography and geology section of the library. She took out the biggest atlas she could find and warily placed it on the table. She blew off the little dust that was on it and opened it to the first page. Somewhere behind her, near the door of the library, she could hear a woman’s breath coming in great huffs.
“Milady..” Agnes said, panting for breath.
“By the gods, Agnes, are you alright?” Cynthia asked.
“Mi-milady, Cynthia,” Agnes said, walking over to her, “I was going to say this: I often find the sky to be a very useful map, if that’s what you’re after.”
Cynthia’s pupils dilated to twice their usual size.
“Agnes! You’re a genius! However did you come to that conclusion?”
“Well, I may have seen some of your books..” Agnes replied, quite flustered. “I didn’t mean to, please forgive me!” She squeaked, realising what she’d said.
“No, Agnes, I must thank you greatly!” Cynthia said joyfully as she hugged the nonplussed maid, before she darted off to the balcony.
Grasping the glass tightly again, she focused on the colour it gave. Warm yellow.
“The map of the Lunarborns.” The stars whispered.
She opened her eyes and looked toward the sky, looking for a sign. And then she saw it. The faint, barely visible line that connected one dot here, another there, criss-crossed, zig-zagged, and finally formed the shape of — an envelope.
The envelope!
Again she raced to her room, looking around for the envelope. Time was running out, and so were her opportunities. She grabbed the envelope roughly, looking for clues. Her eyes fell on the invitation.
“Agnes!” She called. “Give me any dress, as long as I can run in it!”
Agnes returned to the room, breathless. She handed her a modest dress, black and white in colour. It was elaborate, yet allowed for movements.
“Agnes, you’re a lifesaver.” Cynthia said.
“It’s nothing, Milady,” the faithful maid blushed.
Cynthia changed into her clothes as Agnes waited patiently outside. Then Cynthia urgently threw open the door. She was glad her hair didn’t need much work.
“Agnes..” She said slowly, “I am going to ask you something that seems out of the ordinary. But I need you to help me.”
“Miss, this entire evening has been out of the ordinary.” Agnes smiled.
Cynthia chuckled as she too agreed
“I need you to look for any constellation, any sort of pattern you find in this envelope or letter.” Cynthia said as she handed them to Agnes, and began poring over her many books, making notes and markings.
“Milady! A floral pattern!”
“A floral pattern..” Cynthia mumbled. She looked through her various books, and found one. It was another constellation that had disappeared. Both Agnes and Cynthia read the excerpt.

Constellation: Floral Enigma
This constellation is another that has ceased to exist after the Great Celestial Battle. It is quite often associated with the constellation of Wanderer’s Journey. While the Wanderer’s Journey is said to transport people to a different timeline, the Floral Enigma is said to take them back. Ancient Lunarborn texts mention that the Wanderer’s Journey constellation binds people in their new timelines after first light. The Floral Enigma constellation was removed, but not placed on the monument. It was magicked in such a way that, whenever a person was sent to a different timeline altogether, they would find it somewhere, hidden in plain sight. One touch is all it would take to get back if they had the blessings of the Stars.
The constellation is, indeed, an enigma after all.

“This is it, Agnes. The Floral Enigma. I suppose I have to attend the ball now. Why else would the invitation have a floral pattern?”
Agnes nodded. “I’ll ready your carriage, milady.” She said, before shuffling out of the room. Cynthia sighed, walking over to the window to take a breath of fresh air. She couldn’t wait to go back home, but.. Her heart dropped at the prospect of leaving Agnes behind. She considered taking Agnes along with her, but the poor lady would just feel out of place and wanting to go back, just like Cynthia did. She thought of her sweet face, kind smile, her clever, hard-working hands, and her little rose brooch on her maid’s outfit. That’s when she heard Agnes’ voice behind her.
“Milady, your carriage awaits.”
“Agnes.” Cynthia walked up to her and embraced her tightly, while the other woman flushed.
“M-mi-milady..” she stammered.
“Thank you ever so much, Agnes. You may not see me again.”
“Milady, what are you saying?” Agnes asked as they broke away.
“I don't belong to this century, Agnes.” Cynthia explained calmly. “I must return back to my original timeline. And I will miss you so much.”
Agnes struggled to keep her emotions in check but swallowed the lump in her throat, guiding Cynthia, backpack and all, to her carriage. She stole one last glance at the strange mansion, and the memories it held. She looked back at Agnes, and the two women shared a look of deep understanding. Agnes knew that Cynthia must leave, but it was a bittersweet moment for the two. Sadly, Cynthia realised with a jolt, we can’t always get what we want. And she felt so horrible leaving Agnes behind. She gave her one last, heartfelt hug and climbed into the carriage, the shard of glass seemingly having the same sense of loss.
“Goodbye, Agnes.”
“Goodbye, milady.”
Cynthia sighed. Her adventure was almost about to end, but it felt like it had barely begun. Little was she aware of the mysteries she was yet to unravel. Something sharp stabbed Cynthia’s palm, and she opened it to find a small drop of blood blooming, and lying on it, Agnes’ rose brooch. She gave a little sad smile to herself. At least now she had something to remember Agnes with.

Part 3: 1149 words
A Journey of Motifs: Using Popular Fairy Tale Motifs in Another Story
Motif: Coming of Age, Transformation
Elena sat in her balcony, the wind whipping her hair around. She was deep in thought. Firstly, how was she supposed to handle it? The responsibility was far too great than anything she could handle. Yes, this day was inevitable. There would be a day when the power would come to her hands and when she would have to be competent enough to handle all that came her way. And yet.
Elena was the daughter of the most respected members of the Medical Council. She was one of those people upon whom her parents' legacy wasn't forced. Her genuine interest in the field made them decide that when they passed on, it would be her who would take the reins. They entrusted everything to her. But nothing prepared her for what came next.
When she was only 14, she received a message saying her parents had breathed their last in a car crash. The news had broken her and devastated her beyond belief. It was no time to be upset or sad, though. There was a battle going on and urgent medical supplies were needed. And as the head, she had to provide it to the people who needed it. Already many esteemed members of the field who had long since retired had to leave to provide medical care. There was no time to mourn. There never was. Not when she saw Bella, her best friend, succumb to an illness because Elena was so pathetically useless back then. Not when her brother, Jacob, died on the battlefield. Not when her parents died in a car crash. She always felt inexplicably useless, pathetic and weak, not being able to save anyone or do anything. But now she had a chance to save hundreds, if not thousands of people. She stood up, steeling her resolve. Biting back her tears and swallowing the crushing misery, she swore to herself that no matter what, no one would die in front of her if she could help them. Even if it was her worst enemy. She turned back around, walking into her study. All the members of the Council felt a stark contrast to the carefree young girl and the determined, albeit devastated leader. Some of them, however, doubted her. How much could a fourteen-year-old handle after all? When Elena entered her room, panic rose in her chest when she saw one of the most trusted members. A high ranking member who had been her parents’ right hand man, Julius. If he had come to see her then it meant something very serious.
“Julius! What’s the matter?” Elena asked, hiding her doubts and fear.
“The death toll, ma’am.”
“The-the death toll?” Elena froze.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She recovered quickly. The information was crucial after all.
“Well, go on, Julius.” She told him.
“Umm… 10189.” Elena gasped at his reply.
“What do you propose we should do, madam?” He asked her. “I understand that at this point of time it is very difficult for you, yet you have accepted and taken on this position. Shall I deploy more nurses?”
“Yes.” Elena replied quietly. “Julius, I might need some help in a while. I will call for your assistance. How serious is the situation on the field? Any reports?”
Personally, Julius felt that Elena deserved her position. She handled the situation excellently for someone her age. She kept asking for reports frequently, dispatching medical supplies and medics as she saw fit.
“Many people are quite injured. The soldiers are fighting to the death, but there are over a thousand that require urgent medical care, at least within the next three hours. I do not wish to burden you with this, but… Some of our own medical personnel are dying even as we speak.”
Elena pondered on what she could do. She had handled the situation somehow all along, but who was to say that her leadership wouldn’t lead to more losses? Doubt crept up in her mind; she didn’t deserve the position, and she was the most worthless. And that’s when she heard their voices. Jacob’s voice, Bella’s voice, the voices of her parents. All saying one singular thing.
“You were not able to save us. Save them. You can do it. You are not worthless.”
And that much was enough for Elena.
“Julius.” She spoke. “Would you refuse my order if I said this?” She asked.
“I-I cannot say, ma’am.”
“I need a yes or a no, Julius.”
“Well.. I would accept whatever you say.”
Elena took a deep breath before she said the following words.
“Then I will go to the battlefield myself.”
Julius was shocked, to say the least. He expected all sorts of things, but not this. The sheer conviction she had said it with just confirmed the fact that she was resolute.
“I will go myself and treat them.”
“But, ma’am.. The risks are too high. We cannot afford to lose you, head of the Medical Council.” Julius attempted to dissuade her, but he was met with a, “no, Julius. I will go. I will leave in an hour or so, I would greatly appreciate it if you could arrange for my departure.”
There was no convincing the headstrong girl, that Julius knew. He agreed to whatever she had said and went to make arrangements.
Elena’s heart was hammering against her ribs. She had made a very bold proclamation, but who was to say she wouldn’t die?
She walked away from her study and to where her father had kept his old medical journals.
“Mum.. Dad..” She thought. “What would you do?”
She rummaged through the various books, papers, journals, observations, and medical supplies. And that’s when the memories came flooding back to her.

It was a huge pandemic. People were dying left, right and center, and their medical care was in high demand. Elena was only seven at the time but observed carefully each and every move her parents did. As she grew up, they always told her that one day, when they died, everything would go to her, and that that one day could come anytime. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow, maybe after ten years. And so she was always prepared. She had to be.
Her father urgently contacted all the specialists and doctors he knew, ordering them sternly to treat the critical patients. Her mother, on the other hand, was directing and treating countless people into the huge hospital wing of their mansion, which held necessary first-aid and medical supplies. The situation was grave, and, if it hadn’t been for her parents’ systematic approach, thousands more would have lost their lives.
The one year that the pandemic lasted, her parents had sleepless nights. Day in, day out, they would take care of the sick, nurse them, treat them. They were always on standby, even at ridiculous, ungodly hours. They always put the patients first. Always. Hell, they treated them even when they should have been resting. They never shied away from their duties. It was simply a pledge they had taken, to save the lives of anyone who came knocking on their door. And they did.

She sifted through her parent’s numerous journals, looking for one in particular. A leather-bound book, decorated with various stickers of flowers. Elena’s idea. She smiled sadly at the sight of it, but opened the journal. Inside was written everything her parents did whenever there was an urgent need for medical supplies and medics, and how they would or did handle warlike situations.
One passage in particular caught the attention of the keen-eyed girl.
“There is something mysterious about Elena that we can’t quite put our finger on. She’s a medical anomaly, in that sense. We have always instilled a sense of duty in her, and our beloved daughter has nerves of steel. But she has this — this energy we cannot explain. She wasn’t able to save two people very dear to her heart, but.. The efforts that she put in were far beyond what we expected. She’s a very brilliant child, kee, observant, and empathetic. She has this immense strength, and we feel an odd aura around her sometimes, when she’s absolutely determined to save some lives. It is, quite possibly, the rumoured ‘power.’ In the medical community, people often whisper of a person who saved countless lives singlehandedly in the most perilous of situations with no help or support. Their medical knowledge far outweighs even the greatest geniuses of today’s world, and they treated even the most untreatable diseases. People say they even had a magical power, and could treat wounds with just a touch. And Elena has done that more times than we can count: treating by touch.”
Elena couldn’t dare to breathe. If what was written was true, then.. She could finally do it. She could save lives.
That’s when the door was thrown open by some of the sceptics of her field.
“You have a large bounty on your head, dearest!” One of them said in a singsong voice.
“Come now, princess, or we shall kill you ourselves.”
Without a second thought, Elena made a run for it. Time was of the essence, and so was she. This newfound knowledge of her own powers excited her, and threatened her life at the same time.
“Miss Elena!” Julius called to her as he tossed her bag full of supplies, medical reference books and the journal, “please go! I’ll hold them off!”
Elena caught the bag gratefully but hesitated for a moment.
“Please leave, ma’am! All the answers you need are right under your nose, just look carefully!” Julius repeated. Elena nodded, and continued on her way. Julius didn’t know that she’d found out about her powers.
She ran without stopping as fast as her legs could carry her, and spotted her car.
“To the battlefield, now.” She told him, much to his surprise.
“But ma’am–”
“I said, NOW.”
The driver started the engine. She looked back to see the mercenaries who had been chasing her on foot look around frantically for their vehicles. Julius’ parting words were etched into her memory. Another life lost for ‘the greater good.’
Apparently they were hellbent on getting her, and now they would want the journal as well, considering what Julius had told her before she sprinted away. She sighed. Her life was truly in danger now.
Elena, the daughter of some of the most skilled medical professionals, who could treat injuries and sickness with just a touch. But it couldn’t be that easy, could it? There was definitely a downside to her power other than being chased for it. Julius’ final words played in her head again. “All the answers you need are right under your nose, just look carefully!”
“What answers?” She thought desperately, looking through her bag. “Are the answers for ‘why me?! I don’t deserve any of this! I am unimaginably worthless and pathetic, so why do people think of me so highly? Why must it be me with this power? Why can’t I just have a normal, happy life like the other girls my age?’ right under my nose? No, they aren’t! I was plunged into a rabbit hole that’s deeper than I imagined!”
Her train of thought continued, “they probably want me for research, I’m a ‘medical anomaly’ after all. And my powers!” She thought frustratingly. Hot tears stung her eyes and she did nothing to stop them. It wasn’t her priority right that moment. She fished out her parents’ journal. Something, anything, even the slightest clue about her powers was what she needed. Already she could hear the rumbling of bikes not far behind her.
“Faster!” She commanded the driver, who complied.
She nervously flicked through the pages and came upon the passage she had read previously.
“Right under your nose.” Those words kept repeating themselves in her head. She took note of every small detail on the page, scrutinising it carefully.
“We’re here.” The driver said, and Elena looked up suddenly. This was it. The battlefield.
Immediately her hands flew to her head, she could feel a splitting headache for some reason. There, laying open beside her, was the journal. Written in a small script and like a mirrored image, the last line read,
“We fear for Elena. This power seems to drain a person’s life bit by bit by bit, slowly consuming their soul. She shoulders a great responsibility with the power too. If it goes awry, then there will be disastrous consequences.”
Elena’s headache dissipated as her hands glowed green for a moment, leaving her feeling inexplicably tired and weak. Shaking it off, she kept the journal back in the bag, unaware of the peril lurking in wait.

Part 4:
Oral Retelling: Show Characters Passing Down a Story
Robin was excited. It was that day at school everyone had been waiting for: Generational Stories.
It was an annual tradition in Robin’s school for those interested to pass down stories that had been in their families for generations. Stories about valour and courage, kindness, the supernatural, everything one could think of. And some of them always felt like they were straight out of a movie.
Robin, as usual, volunteered. He had so many stories he could tell about his family. There were countless stories that had been passed down, and today he chose a paranormal one. He was the fourth student who was called to the front of the class, and he began his story:
“Long ago, in the dark corners of mediaeval London, there was a huge, dark, abandoned mansion. It was associated with chilling stories, mysterious sightings, and horrors that haunted anyone who dared step in. Some people said a witch lived there, puppeteering innocent passer-bys and creating spells, and.. well.. doing witchy stuff. However, there were others that said that though no witch lived there, there was most certainly a spirit, most likely a malevolent one, that haunted the place.
Two very brave young friends, Arthur and Cuthbert, decided to enter the mansion to see what it was all really about. They believed it was nothing but town gossip, and, besides, they were excited to see and test their bravery.
And so it was that they entered and the door creaked shut behind them. Only the wind, of course.
The chandelier dangled precariously from the ceiling and juddered a bit. But it was only the wind, really.
The weather was dark and stormy. The windows closed shut with a “BANG!” that startled the boys out of their skin, but after all, it was just the wind.
Fear began engulfing the two boys; perhaps it was best they left. But Arthur broke the silence, saying, “well, it’s only our psychology. After all, we’ve heard that this place is haunted, so even the slightest noises make us jump to the conclusion of the paranormal.” Cuthbert agreed with a nod of his head, yet they both were wary.
They walked up the rusty and creaky stairs, a shiver going up their spine at the smallest sounds. That’s when a bone-chilling whisper reached their ears: “get ready to die.””
Robin let that linger in the air for a moment, but since his two minutes were up he couldn’t continue the story, leaving everyone wondering what might have happened to the two young boys.

Elena sat in her balcony, the wind whipping her hair around. She was deep in thought. Firstly, how was she supposed to handle it? The responsibility was far too great than anything she could handle. Yes, this day was inevitable. There would be a day when the power would come to her hands and when she would have to be competent enough to handle all that came her way. And yet.
Elena was the daughter of the most respected members of the Medical Council. She was one of those people upon whom her parents' legacy wasn't forced. Her genuine interest in the field made them decide that when they passed on, it would be her who would take the reins. They entrusted everything to her. But nothing prepared her for what came next.
When she was only 14, she received a message saying her parents had breathed their last in a car crash. The news had broken her and devastated her beyond belief. It was no time to be upset or sad, though. There was a battle going on and urgent medical supplies were needed. And as the head, she had to provide it to the people who needed it. Already many esteemed members of the field who had long since retired had to leave to provide medical care. There was no time to mourn. There never was. Not when she saw Bella, her best friend, succumb to an illness because Elena was so pathetically useless back then. Not when her brother, Jacob, died on the battlefield. Not when her parents died in a car crash. She always felt inexplicably useless, pathetic and weak, not being able to save anyone or do anything. But now she had a chance to save hundreds, if not thousands of people. She stood up, steeling her resolve. Biting back her tears and swallowing the crushing misery, she swore to herself that no matter what, no one would die in front of her if she could help them. Even if it was her worst enemy. She turned back around, walking into her study. All the members of the Council felt a stark contrast to the carefree young girl and the determined, albeit devastated leader. Some of them, however, doubted her. How much could a fourteen-year-old handle after all? When Elena entered her room, panic rose in her chest when she saw one of the most trusted members. A high ranking member who had been her parents’ right hand man, Julius. If he had come to see her then it meant something very serious.
“Julius! What’s the matter?” Elena asked, hiding her doubts and fear.
“The death toll, ma’am.”
“The-the death toll?” Elena froze.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She recovered quickly. The information was crucial after all.
“Well, go on, Julius.” She told him.
“Umm… 10189.” Elena gasped at his reply.
“What do you propose we should do, madam?” He asked her. “I understand that at this point of time it is very difficult for you, yet you have accepted and taken on this position. Shall I deploy more nurses?”
“Yes.” Elena replied quietly. “Julius, I might need some help in a while. I will call for your assistance. How serious is the situation on the field? Any reports?”
Personally, Julius felt that Elena deserved her position. She handled the situation excellently for someone her age. She kept asking for reports frequently, dispatching medical supplies and medics as she saw fit.
“Many people are quite injured. The soldiers are fighting to the death, but there are over a thousand that require urgent medical care, at least within the next three hours. I do not wish to burden you with this, but… Some of our own medical personnel are dying even as we speak.”
Elena pondered on what she could do. She had handled the situation somehow all along, but who was to say that her leadership wouldn’t lead to more losses? Doubt crept up in her mind; she didn’t deserve the position, and she was the most worthless. And that’s when she heard their voices. Jacob’s voice, Bella’s voice, the voices of her parents. All saying one singular thing.
“You were not able to save us. Save them. You can do it. You are not worthless.”
And that much was enough for Elena.
“Julius.” She spoke. “Would you refuse my order if I said this?” She asked.
“I-I cannot say, ma’am.”
“I need a yes or a no, Julius.”
“Well.. I would accept whatever you say.”
Elena took a deep breath before she said the following words.
“Then I will go to the battlefield myself.”
Julius was shocked, to say the least. He expected all sorts of things, but not this. The sheer conviction she had said it with just confirmed the fact that she was resolute.
“I will go myself and treat them.”
“But, ma’am.. The risks are too high. We cannot afford to lose you, head of the Medical Council.” Julius attempted to dissuade her, but he was met with a, “no, Julius. I will go. I will leave in an hour or so, I would greatly appreciate it if you could arrange for my departure.”
There was no convincing the headstrong girl, that Julius knew. He agreed to whatever she had said and went to make arrangements.
Elena’s heart was hammering against her ribs. She had made a very bold proclamation, but who was to say she wouldn’t die?
She walked away from her study and to where her father had kept his old medical journals.
“Mum.. Dad..” She thought. “What would you do?”
She rummaged through the various books, papers, journals, observations, and medical supplies. And that’s when the memories came flooding back to her.

It was a huge pandemic. People were dying left, right and center, and their medical care was in high demand. Elena was only seven at the time but observed carefully each and every move her parents did. As she grew up, they always told her that one day, when they died, everything would go to her, and that that one day could come anytime. Maybe today, maybe tomorrow, maybe after ten years. And so she was always prepared. She had to be.
Her father urgently contacted all the specialists and doctors he knew, ordering them sternly to treat the critical patients. Her mother, on the other hand, was directing and treating countless people into the huge hospital wing of their mansion, which held necessary first-aid and medical supplies. The situation was grave, and, if it hadn’t been for her parents’ systematic approach, thousands more would have lost their lives.
The one year that the pandemic lasted, her parents had sleepless nights. Day in, day out, they would take care of the sick, nurse them, treat them. They were always on standby, even at ridiculous, ungodly hours. They always put the patients first. Always. Hell, they treated them even when they should have been resting. They never shied away from their duties. It was simply a pledge they had taken, to save the lives of anyone who came knocking on their door. And they did.

She sifted through her parent’s numerous journals, looking for one in particular. A leather-bound book, decorated with various stickers of flowers. Elena’s idea. She smiled sadly at the sight of it, but opened the journal. Inside was written everything her parents did whenever there was an urgent need for medical supplies and medics, and how they would or did handle warlike situations.
One passage in particular caught the attention of the keen-eyed girl.
“There is something mysterious about Elena that we can’t quite put our finger on. She’s a medical anomaly, in that sense. We have always instilled a sense of duty in her, and our beloved daughter has nerves of steel. But she has this — this energy we cannot explain. She wasn’t able to save two people very dear to her heart, but.. The efforts that she put in were far beyond what we expected. She’s a very brilliant child, kee, observant, and empathetic. She has this immense strength, and we feel an odd aura around her sometimes, when she’s absolutely determined to save some lives. It is, quite possibly, the rumoured ‘power.’ In the medical community, people often whisper of a person who saved countless lives singlehandedly in the most perilous of situations with no help or support. Their medical knowledge far outweighs even the greatest geniuses of today’s world, and they treated even the most untreatable diseases. People say they even had a magical power, and could treat wounds with just a touch. And Elena has done that more times than we can count: treating by touch.”
Elena couldn’t dare to breathe. If what was written was true, then.. She could finally do it. She could save lives.
That’s when the door was thrown open by some of the sceptics of her field.
“You have a large bounty on your head, dearest!” One of them said in a singsong voice.
“Come now, princess, or we shall kill you ourselves.”
Without a second thought, Elena made a run for it. Time was of the essence, and so was she. This newfound knowledge of her own powers excited her, and threatened her life at the same time.
“Miss Elena!” Julius called to her as he tossed her bag full of supplies, medical reference books and the journal, “please go! I’ll hold them off!”
Elena caught the bag gratefully but hesitated for a moment.
“Please leave, ma’am! All the answers you need are right under your nose, just look carefully!” Julius repeated. Elena nodded, and continued on her way. Julius didn’t know that she’d found out about her powers.
She ran without stopping as fast as her legs could carry her, and spotted her car.
“To the battlefield, now.” She told him, much to his surprise.
“But ma’am–”
“I said, NOW.”
The driver started the engine. She looked back to see the mercenaries who had been chasing her on foot look around frantically for their vehicles. Julius’ parting words were etched into her memory. Another life lost for ‘the greater good.’
Apparently they were hellbent on getting her, and now they would want the journal as well, considering what Julius had told her before she sprinted away. She sighed. Her life was truly in danger now.
Elena, the daughter of some of the most skilled medical professionals, who could treat injuries and sickness with just a touch. But it couldn’t be that easy, could it? There was definitely a downside to her power other than being chased for it. Julius’ final words played in her head again. “All the answers you need are right under your nose, just look carefully!”
“What answers?” She thought desperately, looking through her bag. “Are the answers for ‘why me?! I don’t deserve any of this! I am unimaginably worthless and pathetic, so why do people think of me so highly? Why must it be me with this power? Why can’t I just have a normal, happy life like the other girls my age?’ right under my nose? No, they aren’t! I was plunged into a rabbit hole that’s deeper than I imagined!”
Her train of thought continued, “they probably want me for research, I’m a ‘medical anomaly’ after all. And my powers!” She thought frustratingly. Hot tears stung her eyes and she did nothing to stop them. It wasn’t her priority right that moment. She fished out her parents’ journal. Something, anything, even the slightest clue about her powers was what she needed. Already she could hear the rumbling of bikes not far behind her.
“Faster!” She commanded the driver, who complied.
She nervously flicked through the pages and came upon the passage she had read previously.
“Right under your nose.” Those words kept repeating themselves in her head. She took note of every small detail on the page, scrutinising it carefully.
“We’re here.” The driver said, and Elena looked up suddenly. This was it. The battlefield.
Immediately her hands flew to her head, she could feel a splitting headache for some reason. There, laying open beside her, was the journal. Written in a small script and like a mirrored image, the last line read,
“We fear for Elena. This power seems to drain a person’s life bit by bit by bit, slowly consuming their soul. She shoulders a great responsibility with the power too. If it goes awry, then there will be disastrous consequences.”
Elena’s headache dissipated as her hands glowed green for a moment, leaving her feeling inexplicably tired and weak. Shaking it off, she kept the journal back in the bag, unaware of the peril lurking in wait.

SWC Weekly 2: Thriller

Part 1: 387 words
This will be an epistolary segment: two friends exchanging letters
Italicised words/phrases are for the reader's understanding

Hazel
Heyyy Preeti,
I've been buying a lot of zinnias lately -I've been missing you a lot lately- and I was filled with wood sorrel when you sent me a present for my birthday -I was filled with joy when you sent me a present for my birthday-. I've been thinking about the periwinkles that we grew together when I had come to Mumbai -I've been thinking about the memories we shared together when I came to Mumbai- and my magnolia just continues to grow -my love of nature just continues to grow-. Can't wait for your reply!

Sending roses and gillyflowers and hugs, -sending love and affection and hugs-
Hazel

Preeti
Hiii Hazel!
Lots of Ambrosia from my end! -Lots of love returned from my end- And I'm so pleased you loved my gift! How are things back in Germany? My brother says it's utter buttercups to send encoded messages like these -my brother says it's utter childishness to send encoded messages like these- but honestly I couldn't bother less about it! Recently I've been having a carnation about stars and the moon, and I go up to my terrace every night, full of lupin -Recently I've been having a fascination about stars and the moon, and I go up to my terrace every night, full of voraciousness-. Also, did I tell you I won a prize for academic excellence?
I must leave now, my mum is calling me! Looking forward to your next letter!

Sending roses and gillyflowers and hugs, -sending love and affection and hugs-
Preeti

Hazel
Hey Preeti!
Sorry I haven't replied in a while! There's a bit of cowslip in my house lately, we're planning to move! -There's been a bit of pensiveness in my house lately, we're planning to move!-
Sending irises for your award! I always knew you were full of ragged robin. -Sending compliments for your award! I always knew you were full of wit-. My sister's been a bit of a cypress vine nowadays, I've caught her trying to read my letters sometimes. -My sister's been a bit of a busybody nowadays, I've caught her trying to read my letters sometimes-. It's fun to see her fail miserably at spying!
Waiting eagerly for your reply!
Sending roses and gillyflowers and hugs, -sending love and affection and hugs-
Hazel

Part 2: 483 words
For this segment, I will be giving the backstory of two constellations I created by myself for one of my stories (It's in the Cynthia story I wrote for the previous weekly!)
Constellation 1: Wanderer's Journey
Constellation 2: Floral Enigma
{The constellations are interconnected}

Wanderer's Journey and Floral Enigma – lore
Long ago, in the vast kingdom of Selene, lived the Lunarborns. Their kind flourished, and they continued to make constellations for the wellbeing of humankind. They were godsends. Quite literally.
However, there were those who wanted the detriment of humankind. They wanted their status to be elevated above others and abused the power that came with it. Those whom the Lunarborns knew of were ostracised and banished from the kingdom, and they banded together to form their own community. The Moonflowers, they called themselves. Moonflowers. The poisonous flowers that bloom under the cover of darkness. A fitting name.
The Moonflowers, as they called themselves, had the same powers and could make constellation just as easily as the Lunarborns. And thus, the constellation, ‘Wanderer’s Journey' came to be.
They had the power to select ‘Targets’. These Targets, who were selected by the Moonflowers, would be sent to a different timeline forever whenever they looked at the constellation of Wanderer's Journey. The blessings or curses of constellations, the Moonflowers, Lunarborns and commoners knew, could only be received if a person who looked at the constellations was either a Vessel or a Target. And the Moonflowers chose to make their victims the latter.
The Targets were selected at random, and people were too scared to look at the night sky for fear of getting sent to a different dimension and being stuck there forever.
Now, while the Lunarborns were powerful, it would be tough work to remove the constellation of Wanderer's Journey from the night sky. Besides, doing so would mean war.
And so, the Lunarborns came up with a plan. They created another constellation, the Floral Enigma. Having this in their arsenal, they did a bold move. They dissolved the constellation of Wanderer's Journey.
The Moonflowers declared war the very next day. And thus, the Great Celestial battle took place.
After the Battle, they were forced by the Gods to come to an agreement, and they did so. The Wanderer's Journey constellation would only bind its victims after first light, and the victims would be taken to their new timeline only in the late evening. The Flora Enigma was removed from the night sky along with the Wanderer's Journey and were no longer constellations in the usual sense. The Wanderer's Journey became a symbol on the Lunarborns' monument in Selene, and whoever touched it faced the effects. The Floral Enigma was magicked to appear, hidden in plain sight in the victim's new timeline and they were to find it and touch it if they were lucky enough to have gained the blessings of the stars and if they were able to find it before they were bound by first light. The other demands put forth by the Moonflowers and Lunarborns were agreed to, and thus peace was restored under the able guidance of the Moon God and the Star Goddess. Until Cynthia came, at least.

Part 3:
https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/983885906

Part 4: 675 words
The most awaited hehe
Violet sighed as she tipped back her chair in exhaustion. “God, I hate this so much.”
“Tell me about it.” Snowy scoffed as she glanced over any spelling errors she'd made in her writing.
“Cabin wars are too tiring!” Artemis said as she burst out of her room, her laptop balancing precariously in her hand.
“Careful, Artemis!” CJ told her cheerfully as he looked up at her.
“God, CJ! How do you write so much?!” Bella asked him incredulously as she added the final touches in her story. CJ just shrugged in response.
“Well, that's what comes from writing about 120 words per minute!” Toko chirped.
Violet stuffed her laptop into her bag. “I'll take my leave now.” She said as she walked to the door.
“Wait up!” Bella told her. “Let's treat ourselves to some lunch, come on!”
Upon hearing the word lunch, Violet walked right back to her place and began to fish for her laptop.
Artemis let a sigh escape her lips. “How am I the only one here who has such a low wpm count?!” She asked as she typed away furiously on her laptop, the clicking of the keyboard echoing around the room.
“Uhh, Artemis, do you mind not typing so loudly?” Bella asked as she looked up at her.
“Sorry.” Artemis replied. “Can't exactly do that haha, I am used to typing so loudly.”
“Just use a mobile phone or a tablet, you guys.” This came from Snowy.
“Oh please, it's easier on a laptop, Snowy.” Toko told her as she typed away, albeit making lesser noise than Artemis.
Violet, Artemis and Bella wholeheartedly agreed. CJ was the kind of person who didn't really mind, so long as he could get his work done. And he was.
“Doesn't help that I signed up for a word war as well.” Artemis grumbled under her breath.
“OMG, same!” Toko told her. They shared a high-five. It wasn't exactly an exciting situation, but no one cared.
“Finished!” CJ exclaimed. “Wait.. 3600 words in 15 minutes? I can do so much better than that! You guys, why am I so slow?!” CJ seemed horrified because in his eyes, he had taken too long.
“Oh come on dude, you know that's like so much better than mine!” Artemis exclaimed, eyes glued to her screen as she typed away.
“Hold on guys, please, I'm nearly done!” Toko said desperately.
“Ughh. Two hundred words more and I don't know what to write anymore.” Violet said, having taken out her laptop.
“Write about ghosts!” Bella told her from across the room.
“No, write about FRYING PANS!”
“DRAGONFLIES!”
“STARS!”
“MUSIC!”
“GUITARS!”
“SHUT UP!” Violet yelled at them.
The others chuckled. It was exactly what they wanted. It wasn't the first time they annoyed each other with prompts, either.
“ ‘Kay, hit me up with a prompt, Artemis!” Toko asked.
“Hmm..” She thought for a bit. “A dialogue, or..?”
“Anything!”
“Okay, here goes: ’NO JASON, THAT'S NOT HOW YOU USE A CABLE! YOU DON'T EAT THEM!' ”
“Uhh.. that.. isn't very exciting..” Toko said under her breath.
"Sorry.. It's the best I could do, I couldn't think of much, haha. You simply cannot count on me for random bizarre prompts because I'm not always a spontaneous person.“
The room was quiet for a while after that as everyone typed. Then Artemis broke the silence, saying, ”hey, guys.. I need you to see this story of mine, I don't think it's very great because it's loaded with dialogues and honestly I was blank because I didn't know what to write.“
Everyone walked up to her and stood behind her chair, gazing into her laptop as she scrolled slowly, showing them what she'd written.
”Wait a minute.“ Snowy said. ”That's us..“
”Yeah.“
”And… Artemis, were you so blank and so desperate to write that you literally wrote an account of what happened here as if you were some journalist?“ Bella asked her friend.
”Maybe..“ Artemis grinned as she twiddled her thumbs.
”It's great!“
”Downright boring.“ Artemis yawned. ”Please don't kill me for this!"

Total words: 1545

Critique for Faith's poem

Pelagios wants Jason to do everything for him
‘phone,’ he commanded constantly
‘gimme that,’ he once snarled brutally
but today
Jason has had enough
‘this is my kingdom,’ he says bravely
Pelagios snickers
‘if it is,’ he insists
‘then you must complete a task for me.
you must journey across the space
and find the golden engine
then journey back to me
if you want to become king.’
it is a legendary quest
but Jason agrees, readying for his journey across the space
on the great spaceship Argo, of his father’s name,
and soon it is time to go
he brings with him much crew
the Argonauts, as they are called, are true
on their journey to Colchis, what is first on their list
is watching the rise and fall of the stars
past prometheus, yelling for help
as a cyborg pecks him apart, all yelp
through the dangers of Symplegades
a cyborg bird dives through
and the adventurers continue their journey true
through the architect dangers they fly
and finally reach the destination, yay!
the architect king with the golden engine doesn’t like the look of these men
so he sends him on another task, good riddance
‘plow a field with fire-breathing bulls
plant these dragon teeth.’
Jason nods, taking the required things
and the architect king whispers under his golden nose ring
‘a great army will rise from those teeth
and soon i’ll wield a great army
and no other man will defeat me.’
Jason plows the field
and plants the teeth
but instead of the gold he needs
he is stormed by the army of the architect king’s greed
but before he can yelp
the great queen Hera steps into help
with an enchanted love the architect king’s sweet daughter Medea
uses her knowledge, to save her father’s betrayal
he then finds the golden engine
guarded by the architect king’s greatest creations
Medea uses her knowledge and smarts
and Jason gets away, promising to return to his love and gift her with the lot she wants
he returns, becomes the king
and smacks the architect’s nose ring
soon Medea had a golden heart

This is a great start to a poem, and it gives us a glimpse into how this ‘Jason’ is ordered around. However, for a bit more clarity, maybe you could specify who these characters are? Perhaps you could elaborate just a bit more on their roles and their positions? A line or two more about how Jason is ordered around by Pelagios would also be helpful and make it seem more realistic. Instead of simply saying, “Pelagios wants Jason to do everything for him”, you could mention how he tells him to ready the army for war, how he tells him what decisions to take, or how he insists on certain things and gets his way. Obviously, this may not be entirely the storyline of the story you're retelling, but it's just an example! It makes it feel more understandable, if you get what I mean. It would also be helpful if you could give the characters distinct personalities or voices. Over the course of the poem, we see how Jason is a determined person and wants to get back his kingdom no matter what, but it would be helpful if you could elaborate on the personality of the other characters, like the architect king. Is he always manipulative or deceiving? Is there a reason he isn't ready to give the golden engine? Also, why specifically the golden engine? Did the Pelagios character give it as a challenge, thinking that no such thing existed and that Jason would be back empty-handed? Or is it because he expected him to bring the golden engine and Pelagios would become powerful?
One last thing, the line “soon Medea had a golden heart” could be rephrased for clarity.
Overall, this is a great poem!
The following verses are a good use of imagery and metaphors, and I quite liked it!

it is a legendary quest
but Jason agrees, readying for his journey across the space
on the great spaceship Argo, of his father’s name,
and soon it is time to go
he brings with him much crew
the Argonauts, as they are called, are true
on their journey to Colchis, what is first on their list
is watching the rise and fall of the stars
past prometheus, yelling for help
as a cyborg pecks him apart, all yelp
through the dangers of Symplegades
a cyborg bird dives through
and the adventurers continue their journey true

It really makes us imagine what it was like on the travel to the Architect King's place! However, maybe a line about ‘the dangers of Symplegades’ could really emphasise how determined Jason is and what lengths he'd go to for his kingdom.
Again, I love the poem, but the improvements you need to make are the personalities of the characters and rephrase a few lines here and there to make this even better! Great poem, keep up the excellent work!

-386 words, 400 points-

SWC Weekly 2: Thriller
oooh a mystery yeahhh let's goooo

Part 1:

SWC Writing Competition Entry
In the Name of Science: An Exploration of the Dark Side

“You might die by my hands.”
Those were the last words I heard my brother say before he hung up on me yesterday. And they’ve been swirling around my head ever since.
This is the story of how my world descended into chaos after one letter.
***
This story starts on a warm, sunny day as most stories do. It gives false hope that ‘everything’s fine’ until it’s not. And that’s exactly what happened, I can assure you of it.
So let’s rewind a bit to a few weeks ago.
***
It was a day as normal as any other. There I sat, in the open field, unassuming. I’d just received a letter. I’d won a scholarship for a college where I could study genetics and if I was willing to go, I’d have to travel over a hundred kilometres away from home.
I was ready, of course. I was born ready. But it was what lay behind the door in the room beside mine that had made me stop in my tracks. My entire world changed when I saw that one letter, hidden carefully underneath other junk. The web of lies and deceit that had been spun because of that one letter changed everything for me. And I was going to get to the root of it. I still remember, clear as day, the dread that I had felt when I’d only read past the first line. Then fear, pure and raw, clawing at my throat, screaming to get out. Then anger. Boiling rage and blind fury, enough to make me clutch my head in agony lest I lost my sanity. And finally, betrayal. My trust in everything was shattered and nothing seemed real anymore. What or who could I even place my trust in? The contents of the letter shook me up enough to give me sleepless nights enough to last a lifetime.
But what was in the letter that had made me so desperate? Let me explain a bit more first.
I grew up with two other siblings, Darrell and James. You see, they were twins. I was the third child. You may have heard that although a pair of siblings was identical in appearance, they couldn’t be more different. But when it came to these two, well, they were the same. They weren’t two sides of the same coin; they were halves of the same side of the coin.
Sometimes, it was oddly chilling to witness just how they were exactly like each other. There was some utter and sheer wrongness of it that made doubt creep into my mind whenever I looked at them. Darrell and James by nature were friendly, polite, responsible, and a bit shy. Or so we all thought. But what I had suspected all along was right; the letter revealed it.
As the forgotten child, no one paid me much heed. I could do whatever I wanted, become whatever I wanted. I was well-cared for but neglected. Darrell always wore a white dress with a little bow on it every other day and James always wore a black outfit every other day. Their odd synchrony was frankly creepy. Their smiles felt sinister. Or so I thought. But I was the delirious child after all.
The letter opened with the most bone-chilling line one could think of, written in my brother James’ handwriting. I couldn’t tell apart his handwriting from Darrell’s, of course, but the words I’d read were confirmation enough.
‘Your life has been a lie, built on a lie and will end because of a lie, and I am utterly sorry, my dear Darrell.’
“Darrell’s life has been a lie? Didn’t she know?” I mumbled under my breath. “What lie? What’s going on?”
The letter continued on,
‘You see, you are not who you think you are. You and I are peculiarly similar, to the point where our lives are the same. Do you know why that is? Do you know why it is that you were told by our parents to do what I did, say what I did? And how, amazingly, Clara has been the only one to realise what’s actually been going on? Read on to find out why your life was destroyed.’
I felt a jolt of anxiety when I saw my name. ‘Clara has been the only one to realise what’s actually been going on.’ So James did know that I suspected something, after all. Or perhaps he thought I knew everything. My heart went out to Darrell. My siblings had always treated me well, though now I didn’t know if it was out of the goodness of their heart or because they were so mechanical with everything. Wait a minute, mechanical..?
I continued to read the letter.
‘Believe this or not, Darrell, we were once part of the same entity. Do you remember that we experienced those moments of shared memories, like we were once part of the same consciousness? Well, we were. Ever so long ago. We were genetically separated, and I’ll come to that in a moment.
In our past life, we were just one person. However, we died because we were the unfortunate victims of an experiment. The experiment cost us our life.
The scientists, those d@mn3d humans who’re all about knowledge and logic and wealth, they didn’t stop at that. They wanted to see whether we could withstand the tests of being separated yet remain the same.
They carried on with their experiment and separated us. Using their scientific expertise, they brought us back to life, but as twin children of opposite genders. I regret to say that among these scientists were our parents.’
I choked at that. It was the most cruel thing one could do. I felt like I was being held in place, like time had frozen. Nothing felt real anymore. My hand went to my heart. Who’s to say that I wasn’t some experiment too? I felt suffocated by the truth. Had Darrell read this? And.. I felt a more disturbing thought. What if I wasn’t the person I’d thought myself to be? Was I real, or artificially engineered like my unfortunate twins?
‘You may ask how I know all of this. And I shall tell you, in as few words as possible. I began noticing the strangeness when we were seemingly synchronised in everything, like we were mechanical. Then I noticed how our parents urged you and forced you, against your will, to be like me. A series of investigations and lies upon lies led me to the truth that is staring you in the face, boring the words into your mind. I didn’t want you to find out this way, but there was no escaping it. I found out that I tend to have visions of the future; they’re not things I can change, but they’re seemingly side effects of this cruel experiment that the scientists put us through. To those heartless beings, I have only one question: Are science and scientific breakthroughs far more important than being moral humans? Are they so much more important than basic humaneness?
I pity that Clara has found a fascination in genetics. I do love my sister so, and I know that you do too. I hope she doesn’t turn into the same monster as them. She’s the only one who can save us from this hell of a life.
With love and much, much regret,
James.’
I stared at the letter, my hand quivering. I re-read the last line. ‘She’s the only one who can save us from this hell of a life.’
“James, oh James..” I whispered. “Darrell..”
White-hot anger burned in me again. How did these scientists think they had the right to play with lives for the ‘greater good’ or for scientific gain? Science was not supposed to cross the boundaries of ethics and morality. Science. The word meant the world to me but the letter reminded me of the earth-shattering reality. There were predators out there, who used the excuse of Science for knowledge and puppeteered human lives like they were nothing. The sheer inhumanity a person needs to have to take something so pure and twist it.. It made me sick to the stomach. I decided to take action. Perhaps I could call James first, tell him all I knew. But what if this was a trap? What if James was in danger? Endless possibilities ran through my head but I steeled my resolve. We could only hope for the best.
I nervously dialled his number as I waited for the call to get through. When it did, I told him all that I’d discovered. He stayed silent for a while before he spoke.
“Clara.. Please.. Our parents mustn’t know about this. They mustn’t know that I’ve found out. As for Darrell, well.. I’d hate to destroy her world, but..”
“James, she must know this. The morbidity of this situation is as real as it gets. I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry.” I apologised to him while he comforted me as he said it wasn’t my fault.
“Clara.” His voice came from the other end, firm and clear, albeit wrought with dread and fear.
“You must accept that scholarship. It’s the only way. You must find out all you can, and.. Perhaps, you can free Darrell and me from this cursed life. You’re our only hope.”
“But James..” My voice cracked as I struggled to hold back my emotions; it was all too much to process in such a short time. “James.. I couldn’t possibly bring myself to harm you or Darrell..”
“Clara..” He said once more, this time faltering a bit. “I understand how hard it is for you. But.. I had a vision. This is the only way. All other paths lead to far worse circumstances. I wish I could tell you how sorry I am that you have to be a part of this.” That was all he said as he disconnected the call. I stared at the phone. “Ignorance is bliss,” I told myself. “I now know what it truly means.” I was at a crossroads now. Do I accept the scholarship, and become a part of the very same scientific community that had birthed these monsters and help my twins? Or do I stay in this hellhole and make living worse than death for my siblings? I decided on the former.
And now, as I sat, twisting the cord of the telephone in the waiting room, I could only hope the plan would work. James told me yesterday that I had to follow his plan, otherwise he saw a future where he’d have to kill me by his own hands. And so, it was with the image of Darrell’s sunny smile and James’ comforting embrace that I ventured into a new phase of my life, one that I hoped and prayed would bring peace to the tormented lives of my siblings. I would bring the scientists who had gambled with innocent lives to their knees and make them beg for mercy. James’ words echoed in my head, working only to steel my resolve even more. My life, the lives of those I loved and the lives of those to come could and most certainly would be changed within these walls. I, Clara, fuelled with determination and fury, would challenge the scientific community. I shall establish once more that science isn’t a tool to be exploited in the name of knowledge.

Thank-you notes to all the amazing people out there <3

1. SWC, hosts, leaders, co's, daily team
First and foremost, my sincerest thanks to SWC and the hosts. Just imagine, we wouldn't be here if it wasn't for them! I'm so grateful to SWC and the hosts because you have no idea how much it has helped with my writing journey. SWC has motivated me to write so much this month! To the hosts, leaders, co's, and the daily team, thank you guys so much for your effort in making every session special and memorable! I loved this session just like I loved the last and I hope I can be a part of many more sessions to come. Good luck to all SWC-ers and writers out there on their writing journey!

2. Thriller cabin
Dear Thriller, thank you so much for this blast of a session! It's the people who make a place memorable and worth remembering, and the same could be said for you guys. That said, thank you so much for all your hardwork and dedication towards the camp! <3

3. Special thanks
a. Bella: Bella, thank you so much for being an amazing friend and co-writer! And thank you and Mouse for M&M, which has really helped me with my writing. You're a really fun and chaotic person, and I hope to see you in the coming sessions! ^^ Good luck on your writing journey!

b. Nova: Nova! You're such an awesome person and I'm so happy you're my friend! Thank you so much for your help and support! You're such a fun person to be around and so optimistic! I really appreciate you and I hope to see you in the coming session! Good luck in your writing ^^ (love from the desi girl hahaha also #ricecookersoverfryingpans)

4. SWC-ers
Last, but certainly not the least, thank you to all the SWC-ers for making the camp what it truly is. I'm so grateful for ya'll and it's just so much fun and chaos! Hopefully we'll meet in the coming sessions. <3

Lots of love,
Artemis

Ello o/ Critiquaire for your writing comp piece!

First off! I really liked this piece! You can feel Clara changing her mind as she recounts the story and you can feel the drive that she holds come the ends. You've created an amazing character through her and I'd love to know more about her!

Moving onto the actual critique part, I think there's a lot going on this short story which leads to it being confusing. Especially at the end, when the likes of visions started to come up in the plot. A natural part of science fiction is of course, that we will see things that do not exist yet, such as visions. But, another vital part of science fiction is that there is a reason for us to suspend our disbelief to believe that this is possible. While I can suspend my disbelief about scientists trying to genetically split something, the idea that visions are a side effect of this, is too far because I can't understand how it links to genetics.

The other issue that comes with these visions is that we aren't given any reason to trust them besides James told us their real. How does James know their real? Why is Clara trusting him when all previous descriptions gives Clara every reason to not trust James. *Should* Clara be trusting James? The other big question I have to wonder is what are these visions. If you generally expect me to believe that James and Darrell couldn't go to an ethics board and get them on their side etc… without giving me a reason why, my willing suspencion of disbelief has been lost.

I would normally suggest adding to your short story to add these layers of flesh and take away this layer of confusion. However, since this is a writing competetion entry and already bordering on 2000 words, I'd lean into what you already have set up and go for depth of their trauma rather than breadth of it. You have a teenager (?) who clearly doesn't trust adults in his life so why isn't he asking Clara because she is someone he can trust?

I think deciding to use direct address is a really intresting narrative tool and for the first half of the story, you make it work really well. It also helps explain why a lot of the early story is telling rather than showing. (I'd still work on this though ^^) so you make it work for you! However, I feel you loose a lot of this direct address in the latter half. I feel as though the entry would pop a lot better if you fully dedicated yourself to the direct address or used it far more infrequently than you do at the start. (If you've read Frankenstein think about how the story is mostly prose besides when Victor or the creature interject to remind you that they are telling this tale. Obviously, as a full novel, Frankenstein can do this more infrequently than you could in a 2000 word short story. I would personally go for at the start and then before the phone call with the rest being normal 1st person prose.)

I'm also rather confused with the timeframe of the story. The phone call to the brother was yesterday but the acceptance letter was from weeks ago, as we're told in the beginning. We aren't reminded of these facts within the prose itself, making it feel like the events took place in a shorter span of time than they did.

A small critique is that I think your opening can be a *lot* stronger. It's strong as it is but to enhance the piece I would:
a) Merge the second opening section into the opening part of the prose. You'd need to adjust it to fit in of course but it serves little purpose to be on it's own.
b) Starting a story on a ‘normal’ day is by no means a bad thing. Not everything has to start in media res. However, i) we as the reader don't need to be told the day is normal. It sets cliche alarm bells ringing in my head despite how it's a normal way to start a story. ii) Getting a scholarship to get into college is far from what I would consider a normal day and I'd reconsider if that's even the right word to use in this instance.

Final note is on structure! Please double space! (I know it's tedious but it makes reading a lot easier, espeically when you have large paragraphs.) and you don't need to italicise all the dialogue. If you're using the grammar correctly, the reader will know it's dialogue!

I feel like I've been really harsh so I want to remind you that I loved this piece. You have a lot of amazing ideas and a lot of room for potential here! I'd be really proud if I'd written this! You use powerful words (adjectives, verbs, the whole bunch) to convey Clara's emotions to the reader and push them onto us. Espeicailly at the end when she feels the need for justice!