⋆ sunday, march 15th: 3 song lyrics daily

i’m getting shaken awake. i opened my eyes to complete and utter darkness - it must’ve been somewhere in the dead of the night, 2am at the very least. i groaned and turned over in my cardboard bed, determined to get a couple more hours of sleep in. i’d probably imagined it anyway.
another shake. “elise,” a little voice called, and i nearly bolted myself upright.
i forced myself to stay calm, though. “stells,” i said, trying to push the bleariness out of my voice. “what’s up? is anything wrong?” i can see the shape of her golden blonde curls against the dim moonlight of the window, standing over me.
“shh,” she hushed, putting a finger to my lips. always the sassy one. “elise. i think i’m gonna run away.”
my heart drops to my stomach. she’d mentioned it before obviously, and i’d pushed her down every single time. she was only ten - i thought of it as nothing more than a silly dream. we’d both been in this orphanage as long as we could remember and the outside world tended to be a flitting hope. “no, darling,” i started. “please, you’ll never make it far. someone’s gonna stop you, or find you, you’ll be out there all by yourself –”
“i’ve got it all planned,” she said proudly, smiling. i can see a backpack already slung over her shoulders. “can you be quiet though? i don’t wanna wake anybody else up. i just wanted to say, thank you…”
“stells.” i’m pleading, now. “you’ll be out to fend for yourself, please don’t ruin your life like this –”
“come with me, then.” she cut in, face suddenly serious. “you’re saying i need someone older? a guardian? i choose you.”
i turned away quickly. “you know that’s impossible.”
“why should it be? you’re almost 18, you’ll be outta here anyway. why not do it on your own terms? we could head way out west where the days are longer, and you could meet somebody who really loves you.”
she made it sound so simple that i almost cried. a new life away from this hellscape i’d been in forever. her soul, so young and hopeful and innocent. i stared at her cocoa brown eyes, somehow still sparkling even in the dark.
“fine.” i said. maybe i’d argued against her many times enough. what was there to lose? i grab my own bag from under the bed, hidden away and covered in dust. stells stared at it intently. “i’ve this here since i was ten, too,” i explained shortly, “i had dreams like you once, too.”
her smile returned again, softer this time - i could tell she understood what i was saying. far smarter than she should be for her age, but with a fire of insistence no water could put out.
we head cracked the window and leapt onto an empty road, a half-moon shining overhead and nothing but stars to guide us. as soon as i took that first step, away, i know there's no road that will lead us back.

There were no angels in the skies, and he had little faith that any remained on the ground, either.
As a kit, he used to trace shapes between the specks of light in the night sky, desperate to catch a glimpse of what everyone else already seemed to know. He had hung on every word they said to him, even when they did nothing to answer his questions.
But stars are just distant glimmers in space, and our beliefs are just lies that we tell ourselves to make up for that.
They took a lesson from their fathers, and they had drawn their borders in the name of astral ancestors that no one could see. They had looked for guidance in the cold, empty expanse of space. He didn’t bother trying to change their minds. It wasn’t worth the effort.
Then a dying star disrupted the sacred constellation of the Catmother. Panic ensued. They had angered their ancestors, they said, and this omen foretold their demise. The end was upon them.
That was when the volcano erupted, its ash blotting out the stars entirely. Now the sunless world was always cold, and prey was scarce.
Of course, the two events were unrelated. Omens weren’t real, and it wasn’t the end of the world, only a brief period of hardship. Maybe everyone realized that now. They had certainly left behind their old rules of honor and peace. Everyone was on their own in the fight for survival, and no one spoke of ancestors in the stars anymore.
How quickly we abandon our illusions when darkness falls, he thinks to himself, his paws crunching through a thin layer of snow. But at least they gave it a try.

The sky was clouded over when she woke up.
But she knew. She knew the stars were still there, a terrifying number of them, staring out from that vast emptiness like a million eyes. And she knew that that didn't mean a thing.
Yawning, her elongated canine teeth scraped against her lower jaw. A familiar sensation, yet at the same time, all but forgotten. Bit by bit, she explored the rest of her muscles. They were tensed, as if in preparation to pounce. The only question left for her to answer, then, was: Where was the prey?
She slid out from the box where she had been sleeping. Or, more than sleeping—hibernating. Incubating, even. For the animal that emerged didn't feel quite like the same one that had gone in. It was alright, though. Everything about the outside world had changed, too.
She remembered hearing the rumble, as the tectonic plates started to shake, and the ground itself was reborn.
She remembered the blinding light in the sky, the one that everyone was so afraid of. After all, if not even the stars lasted forever, surely no one else did, either.
But she lived in the space between the stars and the sky.
And after centuries, millennia… she was still alive.

⋆.˚ “Fateful Encounter” ⋆·˚ ༘ *

Songs: Alright by Gracie Abrams, Undressed by Sombr, Making the Bed by Olivia Rodrigo

Elara

She was laying in her bed, staring at the ceiling. What had happened yesterday? Elara didn't know and couldn't quite understand it.
Facing reality though, it was a breakup. It was harsh, and neither of them expected what was to come. She was not okay– far from okay. Elara cried and cried and cried until her tears had shed and all that was left were silent whimpers of desperation.

Felix

He began a slow trudge for his routine run in the morning through the park. Everything was different today. Felix's eyes were blurred by the memories from the past. A haunting sense of regret hunched over him. He had cried last night, something Felix rarely did. To lose your heart to a lover, that struck Felix like a wreaking ball. He was lost. He didn't know how to navigate life now.

Elara

Finally, when it was well past noon, Elara decided to get out of bed. She could only force herself to do so much. It was a fine day in August. She needed to restock her groceries and headed out of her apartment. As Elara quietly walked along the roads towards her destination, thoughts filled her mind that she could not ignore. Her brain kept reforming the same repetitive concern. I don't know if I'll be alright, what will it take to make this good? Oh someone tell me it gets better. Elara was lost, all she needed was comfort and reassurance. Yet no one was there for her– no one could be.

Felix

Felix began his walk home. His mind was bulging. His heart was aching. What has he done? Questions of concern tirelessly filled his head. The sun shone brightly, yet all he could think was how it blinded him. All of a sudden, Felix stopped.

In all chances of fate, he saw her. Just there. Elara was walking straight at him but didn't notice. Head down, she headed up the sidewalk that he was journeying down.

“Elara!” he exclaimed. She paused, look at him with wide eyes, and gave him an expression Felix had never seen before. “I'm sorry, um, are you okay?” she finally said. “Um, I just want to say… I just need to say sorry.” Felix said slowly. “Uh no! It's fine, you don't need to apologize.” Elara answered mindlessly. Felix could not help but notice the distance she sought. “I'm looking at you, and you're looking at me, but the glimmer in your eyes is saying you wanna leave.” he said. She stared him in the eyes.

Elara

What was Felix doing? Elara was far from okay. Why did he want to mess with her emotions again? She could no longer take it and said to him, “I'm so tired of being the girl that I am, every good thing has turned into something I dread.”

Felix looked at her with sad eyes. “It's okay.” he said. And so they parted ways.


✎ 3.15.2026 ~ Daily #15 ❀ ~ 491 words ౨ৎ
⌗ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴀꜰꜰʀᴏɴ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇʙᴏᴏᴋ ⋆˚࿔

583

“Hello,” I said. “Are you excited to be interviewed on the history of Ellironico?”
The infamous silver bullet rolled her eyes. “What is this, a pop quiz?”
I smiled. “Introduce yourself to those of us who may not know you,” I prompted, shifting in my seat.
She cocked an eyebrow. “I’m Silver. If you know me, you already know that name as well as my real one.”
“Which is?”
“Eleanor Caltas, daughter of Rixia and Carlos Caltas. Listen, I’m not trying to give out my life story. Let’s hear the interesting questions.”
My smile widened. “Sure. What motivated you to go after Lyisha Haze?”
Eleanor laughed. “She stole from me, chased me out of my own city, kidnapped me, burned down the prison she put me in, tried to kill off my friends, tried to kill me, and esablished several continued atempts on my life. And that was just in the first month, after the Heist.”
“Tell me more about the heist.”
“Well, you know. I wanted my (_) back. They all did, all of us, and we were determined to get it back. As I’m sure you know, it didn’t go as planned, and we fled the city. We should’ve known it was all fake; it was way too easy.”
I nodded. “That’s a wild opening story. Tell me more about your motivations for deciding to help return Ellironico to its former glory.”
She smiled. “Of course. To be honest, I never thought I would be that kind of person. I thought it was stupid to try and rebuild something so far gone, but then I realized that it wasn’t too far gone at all. I don’t want to lie, after months and months of truth—I don’t like Ellironico. I’ve never called this city my home, and I don’t think I ever will. But the people who do deserve to have anyone better than Lyisha Haze running it, and I guess that includes Vis. It’s been interesting, it really has. When I met that group, I never thought for even one fraction of a second that we would do anything worthwhile together. I was planning to leave them behind when I left.” She laughed. “I hated Vis. I hated Stelle. I thought Sec was stupid, and I thought Maneuver was crazy. I thought Hyazine was crazier for allowing such people into the SCENE, but Hyazine is dead and the SCENE belongs to me now, and… and I thought Medallion was our peacekeeper until he snapped on a dime, and I never thought of Dreary much at all. But what can be said now of how I felt then? It’s been a crazy (_) time.”
I nodded, smiling still. “Would you do it again?”
“Yeah,” Eleanor said, nodding. “I would.”
“And how do you feel about the group now?” I asked.
She pursed her lips, thinking. “We’ve gone off our separate ways, for the most part. I see Vis on my TV everyday, if that counts. To tell you the truth, I feel a bit betrayed by Sec even now, knowing what she was doing behind the scenes. But I do love her. I love them all, everything they did to save Ellironico and me. At the end of the day, maybe I didn’t help save Ellironico because of someone specific, but I did it to save us all—Lyisha Haze can’t run or rule this city, and neither can anyone from Molirand. No one can rule Ellironico. It belongs to all of us.”

676 words!

Hi lune!! Im super excited to critique this piece for you, thank you so much!! <3

I look out into the distance
sighing at the beauty
of the sprawling labyrinth beneath me.
Entangled with thorns
and flowers.

Not roses
never
roses
As some might expect from the thorny hedges

Oooooooooo I really like this opening part!! I think you could maybe shift a couple words to make it flow a bit better, but its totally optional!! Personally, I would use before instead of beneath, because while the character is high up (i think) i feel like beneath makes it sound like they can’t see the flowers, they’re beneath them. But again, totally your choice!!!

But all sorts of different petals.
Different colors
different shapes
different scents
and different leaves.

With barely a thought
I drag myself from my window
as I’ve done so many times before.

I like this part a lot too!!! I think the only thing is the different scents part, i’m having a hard time understanding why the scents would be brought up whilst the character is still inside? But its a really small thing so dont worry about it at all <3

Floating down
the winding
winding
steps
like some sort of
hellebore ghost.

I’m covered in hellebores
all over.
They are perched on my dress
behind my ear
braided in my hair.

Everyone here wears hellebores
its tradition
I guess
Or maybe something more
since i’m not allowed to wear
anything else.

Oooo I really love this part! Its a really subtle shift from this sort of mundane enjoyment to not being allowed to leave that really captures the feeling well. I can’t quite decide if I like the repetitiveness of hellebores in each stanza, but i could either way if thats something thats help to you!!

As my raw toes
reach the lip of the door
I hesitate for a moment
i know nothing will change
from the first time
the second time
all the times before
but then open it.

The tangled maze before me
would be terrifying to most
but I just shrug it off
having been here
dozens
hundreds
thousands
millions
of times before.

I like this part a lot too!! I’m sure thats getting repetitive to read i do really like the repeating, growing numbers at the end, i think thats a cool touch! I think the line between “I hesitate” and “I know” needs a conjunction of some sort? Its just a feeling but I feel like “I hesitate and I know nothing will change” flows better than “I hesitate, I know nothing will change.” if that makes sense! But again, completely your choice <3

I don’t blink
as I step into
all of the twists and turns
I’ve blinked too many times before
I always missed something
some cruel message taunting me
to the edge of oblivion.

If anything
I should close my eyes
tightly
but i want them to see
what they’ve done to me

So my eyes are alert
as my bare feet
tread the scratchy grass
running my fingernails
bloody and short
across the walls

Again, i really like this part! I do think it could use a bit more contrast, soft grass instead of scratchy, dewey leaves hiding the message! I know the next stanza has more of that, but i feel like you could really draw more attention to it by turning up the contrast a bit!

My hand catches something soft
and delicate
a buttercup.
Yellow petals
bright and cheerful
but dark in my eyes

I rip it from the leaves
crush it underneath my heel
With a dark smile
and continue on my way

I run with my arms
spread out beside me
the same
dark smile
haunting my bloodred lips

Ofc, I like this part too… i cant decide if I like the smiling part, so maybe ill answer that at the end? At this point, having not read the whole poem, i dont quite understand how the character is feeling if that helps you at all!

it would seem a happy scene
to anyone who didn’t look close enough
to see the bitter truths
underneath.

I lie in the grass
limbs strawn about
sunset colored dress
fanning out beside me

Hellebores that should be crushed
blooming bright as ever
staring me in the face
taunting me.

This is a bit nitpicky but I think cloth could replace dress for a more surreal feel? I dont know what vibe youre going for though! I also dont quite understand the last bit here, about the flowers never being crushed—obviosuly i havent read the rest yet, but to me this reads like the character has previously crushed the flowers but from my understand they only crushed a buttercup! Ofc if i missed something totally my bad <3

I stand up.
Brushing myself off
I walk forward
eyes tightly shut
but somehow still seeing everything

Seeing the hyacinths
seeing the meaning behind them
and ignoring them.
Seeing their purple petals haunt me
even though
they stay long behind me.

A giggle
escapes my lips
and then another
and another
until I’m back on the ground
my chest heaving
feeling stuck
and hysteric.

I do think haunts would be better than haunt for this sentence, though it could go either way! Like, I’m seeing how they haunt me vs i’m seeing them and they haunt me (which would be the one with the s!) but again, totally creative choice. Other than that i dont have feedback for this section!

I’m trapped
in this labyrinth
that seems so open

Not only these hedges
these grasses
these walls
but also my mind
a confusing
terrifying place

and now
it surveys the terror of the grass
around me
they look so innocent
so childlike
so free

Maybe this is just me, but im a little confused reading this part? Im not sure what the character is referring to when they said “they look so innocent” but again that could just be my bad!

But I know the truth.
That happiness isn’t real
it’s an illusion
an illusion of happiness
designed to torture me
And it does
as I let my false hopes climb higher
each time.

I spot
the bright green fern
sprouting from a corner

The happiness illusion fades
and I let out
A huge
dark
bitter
laugh.
Hysterical, even.

A fern?
A fern?
A fern?

Lies.
Lies.
Lies.

There are no ferns
Between me and this labyrinth.

There are no ferns
Between me and anyone.

There are no roses
in this labyrinth
because this is anything but love.

I like the reconnect of the roses from earlier! I honestly do really love this part, i dont think i have any notes; i definitely feel like i am starting to get the bigger picture, especially at the end about love!

No one has ever loved me.
Not even my family
they knew I was different
my entire life
and told me not to get to comfortable at home.

So a fern was a last resort.
A fern was a desperate plea.
trying to convince me
that it was all for my own good.
That it was here I was loved.

But it wasn’t.
I knew it wasn’t.
And I was so
tired
sick
of their tricks.

One last time
I closed my eyes
and finally saw nothing but darkness.
finally escaped.

Ooooo this is such a cool ending :0 though admittedly, it does feel unresolved. I dont get the sense that the character escaped, i feel like its another temporary break—i think you could combat that by having more moments where the characters closes their eyes but still sees, that way this one feels like more of a punch!

This was so much fun to read, thank you so much for letting me critique this!! I havent written a poem in a very long time so take everything with a grain of salt!! <3

It had been far too long since Nimbus had stretched their wings. The library had closed to the public hours before, and even the night guards had stopped their patrols and headed home.
Nimbus, though, was wide awake. How could they possibly rest after learning about the impact of the Enchanted Era on modern Keirian politics?
Thankfully, the sixth-floor windows were never locked, and Nimbus slipped out silently. They extended their wings, catching a current in the cool night air and soaring upwards. Their coat flapped behind them as they landed on the library rooftop.
With sharp eyes, Nimbus scanned Austorp's skyline. A glint of gold caught their gaze, and they squinted downwards, adjusting their hat with one wingtip. As far as they could tell from seven floors up, someone had dropped their purse—and that someone seemed to be quite wealthy. Passersby gave the bag a wide berth—even if they could see the world from Nimbus' bird's-eye view and notice the surprising lack of guards patrolling the street, they'd still be too terrified of getting caught to risk snatching something that wasn't theirs.
Nimbus, though, was tempted—even if whoever dropped the purse returned for it, they wouldn't miss just one gold piece.
They hopped off their perch on the rooftop, swooping to the road below, where shadows cast by a row of locked-up businesses concealed their dark feathers. Furtively, Nimbus reached out, grasping a coin in their beak before hopping back into the darkness. They examined their prize, pleased by its golden glint.
A snore rumbled from the shadows beside Nimbus, loud enough to shake the windows above. Their head jerked towards the sound, feathers ruffling with worry.
From the volume of those snores, whoever lay in the shadows was sound asleep. Though Nimbus was desperate to leave with their shiny coin, they couldn't help but want to investigate. They took the coin in their beak again, approaching the source of the sounds.
Squinting into the shadows, Nimbus made out the silhouette of a middle-aged elf sprawled against the wall, silver hair rumpled and drool running down one cheek. His round glasses had slipped halfway down his nose, and he was dressed entirely in dark linen—it was no wonder Nimbus hadn't noticed him in the near-darkness.
Nimbus was too busy staring, wondering what the elf could possibly be doing here, to realize the coin had begun to slip from their beak. They flinched at the clink when it hit the stone pavement, painfully loud in the night.
The elf abruptly stopped snoring, eyes twitching open. He looked around, clearly startled, before spotting Nimbus, who was standing as still as the statue of Queen Guinevere that graced Austorp's central plaza.
“Oh. Hello.” He pushed his glasses up, leaning towards Nimbus.
Nimbus stepped back.
The elf noticed the fallen coin, and his eyebrows furrowed. He patted one pocket, then the other. “Is that mine?”
“Yes,” Nimbus said reluctantly. They looked longingly at the shiny thing as he slipped it back into his pocket.
They pushed the purse towards the elf. “Is this yours, too?”
“Why, it is!” he said, blinking at the bag.
Nimbus couldn't wait any longer to ask their questions. "Who are you? What are you doing? What are you wearing?“
The elf slipped the purse into their pocket, patting it three times for good measure.
Nimbus' wings twitched with anticipation.
”My name is Adric, and I own this shop,“ he finally answered. ”Every morning for weeks when I've opened up, the shelves seem disorganized, my fruit is missing, crumbs are scattered everywhere…
“I planned to wait outside overnight to investigate the break-ins. Evidently, that didn't go as planned.” Adric gestured to his disheveled clothes. “I haven't slept much lately, and I suppose I couldn't expect to sit in the darkness without drifting off.”
Nimbus cocked their head, picturing the brave investigators from the mystery novels they loved. This elf, slumped against the wall, eyes half-closed from exhaustion, didn't match the description. "Sounds like a job for a real detective,“ they replied.
Adric abruptly stood up. ”Would you help me?“
”What do you mean?“
”I need someone to watch the shop until dawn. You seem wide awake, and you helped recover my purse. You're perfect!“
Nimbus opened their beak, ready to object. They were nothing like Inspector Shadowstep, the hero from their favorite novels. Sure, they'd devoured every book they could find about criminology and forensic science, but reading about mysteries was completely different from actually solving them.
But the chance to take on a case of their own? They couldn't miss this opportunity.
Before they could overthink their decision, Nimbus struck a pose, wings stretched wide and hat tilted jauntily. ”Lucky for you, you're speaking to East Austorp's best detective.“
”Really?“ Adric scratched his head, looking Nimbus up and down.
”I suppose I could make room in my schedule for your case,“ Nimbus said, desperately trying to remember Inspector Shadowstep's dialogue.
”And what payment will ‘East Austorp’s best detective' require?“
Nimbus cocked their head, unsure how to answer. One of those shiny coins would be nice, but they didn't know how much a real inspector expected. ”We'll discuss that later,“ they said as confidently as they could manage. ”I'll have everything figured out by morning.“
Adric nodded. ”Then I wish you the best of luck," he replied, punctuating his sentence with a yawn. Tipping his hat to Nimbus, he disappeared around a corner into the maze of Austorp's streets.
Whenever she was assigned a case, Inspector Shadowstep always began by checking entry and exit points. Nimbus stretched up to test the front door's handle, but found it locked. They turned next to the two windows flanking the door. Though they were small by Elven standards, a dwarf or gnome could easily fit through, not to mention a bird like Nimbus.
They pushed at a window pane, and to their surprise, it slid open. Curiously, the flowerbeds underneath weren't disturbed. If a creature had entered through the window, wouldn't they have uprooted the plants while scrambling through?
Nimbus hopped up and squeezed through the window, dealing some damage to the flowerbeds along the way.
Inspector Shadowstep had an eye for detail, and Nimbus mimicked her scrutinizing gaze as they scanned the store. Nothing seemed obviously out of place. But as they stepped further inside, something soft squished under their talon. They lifted their leg to find a bit of orange peel stuck on one claw.
Strange. Oranges were rare in Austorp—Adric must have imported them from outside Keirus—and they were expensive enough that nobody would leave a scrap behind, much less a trail across the entire shop.
Nimbus quietly followed the bits of peel and pith towards a set of shelves.
They peered around the corner. Hundreds of beetles carpeted the ground, swarming over the remnants of an orange, carapaces shimmering with color in the dim moonlight—mirrorbacks.
Nimbus stumbled backwards, and their talons scraped against the floor.
The bugs froze.
Nimbus had encountered the metallic beetles among the stacks of the East Austorp Library, but never so many in one place. When they read Insects of Austorp, they'd learned mirrorback beetles consumed anything they came across, but they had a taste for fresh fruit and meat. They must have smelled the oranges and bored straight through the brick walls into the shop.
The insects seemed occupied by the orange, but a swarm this size could turn on Nimbus and devour them from talons to beak in an instant.
For a moment Nimbus considered retreating to the safety of their nook on the library's sixth floor. But Inspector Shadowstep never gave up on a case.
Nimbus jumped into the air, wings beating wildly, sending wind gusts whooshing towards the bugs. Their coat billowed around them, and their precious hat flew from their head and landed a few shelves over.
The mirrorbacks scattered from the remaining scraps of orange peel. A group gathered under Nimbus, climbing atop each other to tower upwards, inch by inch, until they were almost high enough to grasp Nimbus' dangling talons.
Nimbus swooped across the shop, trying not to focus on the thousand tiny legs pattering against the ground behind them. They snatched the last orange from a high shelf and squished it in their beak. Just as the mirrorbacks caught up, they hurled the orange out the still-open window, drips of sticky juice trailing behind as it bounced into the empty street.
Catching the fruit's scent, the beetles surged towards the window, rushing through in a glimmering mass.
After the last mirrorback heaved itself over the sill, Nimbus landed, then shut and locked the window. As the fear subsided, their chest puffed with pride. They strutted over to retrieve their hat, then began to search for the hole where the mirrorbacks had entered.
It didn't take long—when they stooped to examine a current of cool air below a table, they noticed an opening in the brick, the edges bite-marked by the mirrorbacks' vicious fangs. Nimbus shuddered at the thought of what would have happened if those insects had reached them.
They stuffed a rag in the hole as a temporary blockade, then settled on a shelf to wait for Adric.


Hours later, the doorbell tinkled and Adric entered, rays of early morning sunlight spilling through behind him.
“You're back!” Nimbus chirped, hopping off the shelf.
“I thought you left! How'd you get inside?”
“I'm pleased to report that your case has been solved,” said Nimbus, ignoring Adric's question and imitating the proud-but-slightly-condescending tone they imagined Inspector Shadowstep used when addressing clients.
Adric brightened, peering down at Nimbus.
Nimbus pointed to the blocked-off hole. “You have an infestation of mirrorback beetles. They burrowed through the wall to eat your produce, and they leave scraps everywhere. I imagine neglecting to lock your windows doesn't help, either.”
“Mirrorbacks?” Adric stroked his chin. “It's a relief nobody's been sneaking in here—except the bugs, it seems.”
He smiled. “I truly appreciate your assistance.”
Nimbus struck another pose, wings outstretched in delight. “Another case cracked by Inspector Shad—Inspector Nimbus.”
Adric reached out a hand, and Nimbus shook it with their wing.
“Well, it was certainly nice to meet you, Inspector Nimbus.”
Nimbus nodded, not budging from the doorway.
“I suppose you require a payment.”
Nimbus nodded again.
“Do you only accept gold, or might I offer you something more…unique?”
“I'd consider an alternative.”
Adric locked the door and closed the curtains. At the back of the shop, he lifted a corner of the carpet to uncover a trapdoor. He opened both its locks, then lifted it, gesturing for Nimbus to enter.
Nimbus' curiosity overwhelmed any apprehension, and they stepped through the trapdoor, fluttering downwards.
As Nimbus' eyes adjusted to the basement room's dim light, their beak fell open in astonishment. Lining the walls were hundreds of books, books they'd never seen in years spent scanning every corner of Austorp's libraries. They rushed towards the shelves, hungrily taking in each unfamiliar title.
“I've been collecting for years—they're all authentic Enchanted Era,” Adric declared. “These books hold great power, for those who put in the time to decipher them.”
Nimbus turned to the elf, bouncing from talon to talon with excitement.
“You can choose one, if you like.”
Nimbus ran a wingtip over the worn covers, landing on a thin book titled Thaumaturgy. They pulled it from the shelf, admiring the gilded text on its spine.
Adric chuckled. “Ah, that's a good choice.”
Nimbus followed Adric back to the shop, unable to take their eyes off the book as the elf double-locked the trapdoor.
Finally, they slipped the volume into their deepest coat pocket. They stepped out onto the streets of Austorp, now bustling with mid-morning activity.
Adric smiled. “Keep the book safe, young Inspector.”
Nimbus dipped their head to the elf, then looked back to the library rooftop and stretched their wings outwards, ready to fly.

667 words

Koralia's interview

Interviewer: alright, welcome! So today we’re getting a chance to interview Koralia! Now, Koralia, you’ve gone through quite the journey through time and space to meet with us today, and to tell us about your… friend.

Koralia: Yes, we thank you dearly for the opportunity you’ve given us, it does not speak much, so it’s nice to get an opportunity to share it’s story

I: well thank you! And her-

K: It’s

I: right, it’s name is.. ?

K: Ngira

I: right, so, Koralia, you’ve mentioned that Ngira doesn’t often speak, is that something applied in general or just to people it doesn’t know?

K: There are not a lot of people Ngira can speak to, it can never stay in the same place too long, and my family is nomadic, we move often, so Ngira can safely follow us. Now, really, Ngira has more trouble with languages, I taught it ottoman turkish many years ago, it learned it alongside me. I do not know if it spoke to others before me, but the only language I recognize her speaking is turkish, when I grew older and learned farsi, I tried to teach it, but it never really picked it up.

I: so, it doesn’t speak to others often?

K: Perhaps, I do not see it speaking to others, or hear different languages, but I am not with it all the time, the sky moves faster than I can follow it, so truthfully- I do not know.

I: right, and how did you come to know Ngira? It’s not as if she’s very talkative-

K: I am not quite sure either, I always loved the stars in the night, but as early as I can remember, Ngira has always found me whenever night fell.

I: and-

K: and even if Ngira’s always quiet, I am not the same. Often, it will sit by my side and simply listen, it is what’s required of it, but it’s lovely. My favorite evenings are whenever she speaks back.

I: and what of your family- you’ve mentioned they’re nomads?

K: Yes, that is why Ngira used to follow us wherever.

I: used to?

K: When I was nearly past my twenties’ years, we moved towards Constantinople, and settled near the city. This meant I left Ngira behind. I missed it very dearly, sometimes I would have left the city, to leave the chattering behind me, to look in the stars for it. I always felt like I had almost found it.

I: well that’s certainly very touching-

K: And then I fell sick, I rarely left the town, and when it got worse I barely saw the stars through the window anymore, sometimes I could leave into the courtyard but I never saw it again.

I: well- that’s an intriguing story about your final moments, and losing Ngira right before the end must have been heartbreaking. Now, you’ve mentioned that Ngira had been with you, well, as long as you could remember- what prevented you from telling others?

K: I genuinely had never really tried, Ngira and I, we did not need anyone else to be complete, we were alright in the silence, when I did not desire to fill it. I do not think I’ve ever- well, I had attempted to tell another, once, about it. My caretaker, the nurse I stayed with, before I had even fallen ill, she was the closest I’ve ever been to another, moreso than Ngira, in all honesty. This was before the bile had choked the air from my lungs and the stars from my courtyard. But Ayni never believed me, and never seemed to see it, no matter how many times Ngira sat before her.

I: well, thank you, Koralia, unfortunately that is all the time we have today to learn of your torrid tale, but I hope you live long and well-

K: it is already too late, and has been for many, many years now, but I thank you for the sentiment.

A/N: I made up Koralia and Ngira for the OC weekly but ran out of time. So here's Koralia being interviewed on her relationship with Ngira! Short pronunciation note: the ‘Ng’ in Ngira is not a hard G, it's a nasal tone, like at the end of the word ‘Sing’. Koralia was an ottoman girl living in a sparsely populated area not to far out from Constantinople, her family was previously nomadic, as mentioned, and she speaks arabic as well. Although Koralia should technically be speaking Ottoman Turkish here, we can pretend for the sake of the daily. Also Ngira is like 13 feet tall and has dark navy skin with starry freckles that blend into the night sky. Which is why she can't be in too many cities.

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weekly #2 || Broken Sky || 2995 words

part i. outline
Exposition: Bits lives in Broken Sky, an archipelago of floating islands in the sky. She’s lived there for most of her life — it’s the best place for an explorer, after all. People have the ground all mapped out and rationalized, but the sky… magic can still happen in the sky. And Bits is looking for a specific kind of magic: dragons. The story opens with her on an exploration, searching both the sky above and the sky below.
Rising action: Bits finds herself in an unmapped area of Broken Sky, which excites her. No maps means no explorers, and no explorers means… the unknown. And maybe dragons. (If nothing else, she can at least map this area and turn in her findings to the Cartographer’s Guild.)
Climax: Bits thinks she sees something in the sky and starts running, but it turns out just to be a high cloud. Not looking where she’s going, she stumbles and falls into a pit. Coughing and shaken, she raises her head… and finds herself staring face-to-face with a dragon. One made of metal. She’s fallen into what’s basically a giant junkyard, filled with the remains of clockwork dragons. The legends were true. Well, mostly.
Falling action: Bits explores the pit, disappointed that alive, magic dragons aren’t alive — but then, who’s to say? Maybe they were, and these mechanical dragons were modeled after them. Or maybe these were just the whim of an eccentric mechanic. Regardless, Bits has still made an incredible discovery… and she’s willing to bet these dragons could fly as well as a real one.
Resolution: Bits finds a wrench and twirls it in her fingers. She’s no mechanic, but everyone has to start somewhere, right? She doesn’t care how long it takes — she’s going to fly through Broken Sky on the back of a clockwork dragon someday, looking for the maybe-mythical maybe-not dragons.

part ii. short story — Broken Sky, 1610 words

Bits may have been ground-born, but she belonged to the sky.
Shading her eyes with a hand, she glanced up, searching the endless blue. Was that a shadow, in the depths of that cloud? And that cloud over there, it had an odd shape. Was it really a cloud?
She squinted up until she saw starbursts behind her eyes when she blinked, finally determining that there was nothing more interesting in the sky right now than ordinary clouds. Well, and her. And the floating fragments of islands that made up Broken Sky.
Bits rummaged around in her pack — which was almost as big as she was, and probably heavier — pulling out a map, which she spread on a nearby stone, parchment crinkling against moss. Yes, she was almost to the edge of this fragment. Luckily, it should be close enough to the next island she could jump the gap. And then she could keep looking for dragons.
She rolled the map back up, jamming it back in her pack. Ever since she was little, she’d been fascinated with dragons, with the idea that there might be something else in the sky besides clouds or chunks of land. No one on the ground had taken her seriously, but then, people on the ground already had everything figured out. It was all mapped and rationalized. Up here, in Broken Sky… where even the Cartographer’s Guild hadn’t worked their fingers into every little crevice and cranny… here, there was still room for magic.
Bits fought through a patch of undergrowth, startling a rock lizard. It scuttled away as she emerged on the other side. Sure enough, this island ended on a jagged edge, a line of blue slicing through stone. If she stood on the edge and looked down, she could see more sky below her. She always peeked, to make sure no dragons were flying below the islands.
Nothing seemed to be there, so she got ready to hop the crack to the next fragment, eyeing the gap. On the map, it had looked like nothing more than a hairline fissure separating the islands, but in actuality, the line of sky snaking between them was wide enough for her to hesitate. That happened sometimes. Broken Sky wasn’t stationary; it drifted and bumped and wandered. Sometimes the maps were old, or the cartographer had just gotten sloppy. Either way, Bits hadn’t brought any special equipment for island hopping, so a jump it would have to be.
She backed up several steps, trying to ignore the sweat slicking her palms, and focused on her goal. She was hunting dragons. And to do that, she needed to cross this gap. She took off, footsteps pounding on the stone before she launched herself. It was always here, in these dizzying moments between fragments, that she grasped — just for an instant — what it would be like to fly. And it was here, caught between terror and thrills, that she knew she would, someday. She didn’t care how long it took. She was going to find a dragon to ride, and finally experience the sky without the restraints of the ground under her feet.
Bits landed hard, barely making the fragment. For a sickening moment, she thought she was going to fall into the endless blue behind her, arms windmilling in a useless imitation of wings — but then she regained her balance, falling to her knees to catch her breath. She’d done it.
She slipped her pack off her back again, taking out her map to see where she was.
She couldn’t find it.
Bits frowned. She’d been sure she’d hopped to the right fragment, but after looking at the map more closely, the gap she’d just jumped was the wrong shape. Great. With her luck, she might have gotten turned around entirely and gone back the way she came. But no, that fissure didn’t line up either. So either she was a lot more lost than she thought, or…
Or… this fragment wasn’t on the map. Heart pulsing in her throat, she ran a finger along inked lines, finding the side of the island she’d jumped off. Yes, here was the right edge. Except where there was another floating chunk of stone suspended in the sky in real life, here on the paper was nothing. Just a blank, empty space.
She was on an unmapped island, an undiscovered fragment of Broken Sky.
Excitement thrilled her all the way to the tips of her fingers. Even the Cartographer’s Guild hadn’t made it this far, and civilization certainly hadn’t; the last several islands she’d jumped had been entirely abandoned. Which meant that maybe, just maybe, she’d finally gotten far enough away from humans to start finding more interesting wildlife. Like dragons.
Bits slung her pack back onto her shoulders, glancing up. No clouds here. Nowhere for them to hide. And something in her gut was telling her she was so, so close.
Besides, even if she didn’t find anything, the Guild always paid well for recordings of unmapped areas. She had a bounce in her step as she walked, forging her way towards the inner heart of the island. This fragment was overgrown and wild, as untamed as the sky it drifted in.
Something rustled, and Bits stopped wading through plants, listening. Small animals were common in Broken Sky, like rock lizards, and they could make a fair amount of noise when they moved.
But this sounded a lot bigger than that. And Bits was far enough away from the known regions of Broken Sky — who knew what else was out there?
The rustling came again, closer, and she decided it was probably time to get moving. Fear kicked a staccato rhythm against her ribcage as she ran awkwardly through the undergrowth, hoping that whatever was out there would decide she wasn’t worth the effort of investigating. Or tasting.
Bits was moving quickly enough that she didn’t have a chance to stop when the undergrowth gave out suddenly, spilling her into space. She yelped as she tumbled and bounced down the steep slope, pebbles raining around her.
She landed face-first on the ground, gasping and coughing up a mouthful of dirt. Her knees and palms were skinned, and she would almost certainly have some interesting bruises. Bits took a moment to catch her breath before looking up.
A gleaming snout loomed in front of her, almost nose-to-nose.
Bits squeaked and scooted backwards, thoughts spiking. Had… had she finally…
She raised her eyes higher, meeting a pair of empty sockets. Empty, metal sockets.
She let out a breath, relief and disappointment mingled. Something was poking her in the spine, and she turned to be faced with a rusted wing, lying abandoned in the dust. Slowly, Bits stood, taking in her surroundings.
She’d fallen into a… junkyard? Yes, a junkyard.
Full of what appeared to be broken clockwork dragons.
This time, the disappointment was much stronger than the relief. She’d thought she was so close to finding the live, breathing thing. But now, faced with the pieces of rusting and twisted metal around her, she doubted. What if they’d been right all along, and her dream simply didn’t exist? What if all the legends, all the stories, had been caused by sightings of these clockwork dragons?
What if the magic was never really there?
Bits swallowed, forcing those thoughts down. She’d still found something incredible. She stepped closer to the dragon she’d landed in front of, brushing gentle fingers along its cold metal snout. Dirt flaked off under her hands. And with every heartbeat, excitement returned. No, maybe these weren’t the dragons she’d been looking for. But in the end, she’d still found dragons. And despite their current disrepair, these had clearly not been built to stay on the ground.
She spent the next hour wandering around the pit, exploring the mechanical beasts, as a new idea began to bubble to the surface of her mind. It had clearly been a long time since any of these dragons had taken to the sky, but it was equally clear they had, once, or at least been intended to. Bits stopped to watch a handful of gears, still spinning slowly, powering nothing. Here, a light that still flickered. A wing that was rusted but not bent as badly as some of the others.
She stopped when she got back to the first dragon, placing her hand on the spot between its hollow sockets. And maybe she was imagining it, but she could have sworn those empty eyes were asking her something.
Bits opened her pack, digging out a leather roll of tools and pulling out a wrench. She was no mechanic, but everyone had to start somewhere, right? And she certainly had plenty of materials to work with.
The disappointment was entirely gone now, replaced with pulsing joy. If she could, by some miracle, fix one of these massive mechanical monsters… if she could take to the air, leaving even the islands of Broken Sky beneath her… if she could go farther than she, or anyone, had ever gone before…
Then maybe she’d find the dragons she’d always been looking for. Or maybe she’d find something even more spectacular. Who knew what all lurked in the sky?
Bits grinned at the broken clockwork dragon, crouching to inspect its metal innards.
“You wanna fly again, boy?” she asked, reaching up to loosen a bolt.
It was probably just the wind, but the beast creaked, and her smile widened. She’d take that as a yes.
Then Bits got to work.
And above her, above the junkyard, above the islands of Broken Sky, the unknown waited.

part iii. critique for bea
https://scratch.mit.edu/discuss/topic/869490/?page=23#post-9044284

Lilac comes home after a long day, tucks her younger brother Isiah in, and thinks about the legends that he likes to read. Foreshadowing about what’s going to happen to her later in the story. The key part of the foreshadowing is that it happened when people disappeared mysteriously in the night and that everyone blamed these magical doorways they called portals for it.

Eventually Lilac falls asleep, and wakes up in a strange hallway. She assumes she’s lucid dreaming (or some form of it) and believes that she’s been thinking about the legends too much. It’s canon in her story or whatever that she reads the legends to her baby brother almost every night. So she thinks that they’ve just gotten into her head.

Anyways, she finds the doorway that supposedly leads to the room that holds the portals and enters it. The Portal Guardsman notices her immediately and starts to follow her, however she’s too distracted by the portal to notice him. She approaches the portal and is then pushed in by the Portal Guardsman.

She wakes up in a random field, and is almost immediately discovered by Alistair. Alistair is a native to that world (which has a significant number of people who end up coming through the portals and landing there) and has had his fair share of explaining the whole situation to people. In his world, there’s a book with information on how to go to another world, however it’s very hard to get access to.

Unfortunately, Lilac is very stubborn and will do whatever it takes to get that book, because it’s her only way home.


The familiar squeak of the hinges greeted Lilac as she opened the door to her apartment. With a quiet sigh, she let the door shut behind her, and the hinges squeaked quietly again.

That sound was really beginning to get on her nerves, but she was just too tired to care at this point. All she wanted to do was to check on her brother and then sleep for as long as possible before having to go back to work all over again.

She kicked off her shoes by the door, hastily untying her apron. Quietly, she shuffled towards her younger brother’s room, tossing her apron onto the couch, along with her hat.

For a moment, she stopped outside her brother’s door, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. When she opened them, she forced a small smile onto her face, hoping it’d hide her exhaustion. It never seemed to work though, seeing he always noticed.

“… hey, Isiah?” she asked, easing the door open. Light from the hallway flooded through the opening of the door, revealing his relatively clean room. Some school books were in a precarious stack that was threatening to fall over. His clothes from the day were half falling out of his open hamper, barely in the hamper itself.

As she continued to ease the door open, the light landed on a sleeping Isiah’s face. Lilac froze. He was partially propped up on his pillows, a book still in his hands, head leaning uncomfortably on the bedrest.

The dim realization that he must have been waiting for her to get home hit her. Her expression softened and a smile touched her face. Carefully, she slipped into his room, taking the book from his hands and pulling a blanket up to his chin.

“Night, bud,” she whispered, voice barely audible. Somewhere, she felt bad that he hadn’t been able to say goodnight. But he needed his rest as much as she did. Especially when her boss had her working overtime for the third time that week.

As she straightened, she glanced down at the book in her hands. As The Legends Went. It was his favorite book ever since he was a little kid.

The one all about the portals that supposedly whisked people away in the night, sending them to faraway and strange worlds, rarely returning to their own. The one he begged her to read to him every night when they were younger. The one she memorized for him because the words on the page would get jumbled and blend together when she tried to read it.

She shook her head, placing the book on the nightstand as she started to leave. They were just stories, she thought, glancing back at her brother for a moment. Meant to explain disappearances back in the day, and meant to entertain children’s fantasies now. The door shut behind were with a near silent click. Nothing more, nothing less.

With a deeper sigh, she shuffled to her room, sprawling on her bed. She could change in a minute; she just needed a moment. She knew why he liked those stories so much. They were an escape.

She couldn’t blame him for it. Not when she wanted her own.

But she had seen far too much of the world to know that was possible.

It was nice to dream, though.


Lilac woke up with a start. Had she set her alarm? What time was it? Bleary eyes took a moment to focus and when they did, she froze. A cream-colored wall greeted her, instead of the pale peeling yellow of her room.

She looked around. A long hallway of walls the same color stretched endlessly on either side of her. Pillars dotted the hall periodically, reaching up to the tall ceiling. Even from where she was sitting, she could see the details etched into the stone. But the strangest thing of all were the grand doors behind her.

They almost reminded her of the grand doorway from the legends.

She blinked. A chuckle escaped her. Those stories were getting into her head, she guessed as she stood. Enough so that she was dreaming about them. Her blue eyes dropped to her hands as she fisted them, and then stretched out her fingers, counting them. Ten fingers.

She counted them again, waiting for the number to inevitably change or shift. But no, she counted ten again. She shouldn’t have counted ten. Why had…?

“Weird,” she said aloud, glancing up at the door before her. If she was dreaming… it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek, would it?

The door didn’t give as much resistance as she always thought it would. It was eerily lightweight for a door of its size. Though, this was just a dream. She wouldn’t expect a door to have weight in a dream.

But her ruminating on the door was interrupted by the sight behind it. A portal, hovering a foot or so off the ground. It swirled with green and yellow, pulsing faintly at the edges as it cast a soft glow around it.

A small smile tugged at Lilac’s lips as she laughed quietly. The legends really were getting into her head, weren’t they? Slowly, carefully, she stepped toward the portal, her quiet footsteps echoing in the room a lot louder than she thought they should. Maybe if she wasn’t so distracted by the fact that there was a portal in the middle of the room, she would’ve thought about it more.

Right as she approached the portal, the green and yellow turned to a bright azure, and everything in the room shifted. Pleasant yellow became icy blue and she realized someone was standing behind her.

She started to turn, but was far too late. Someone shoved her forward, straight into the portal as it shifted again. Bright amethyst purple reflecting off dark armor was the last thing she saw before purple swallowed her vision whole.


Lilac woke up in a cold sweat, falling from her bed onto the ground beneath. “What was that?” she whispered to herself, brushing hair out of her face. Whoever that person was, it was terrifying. Something that only her imagination could create.

Her hand dropped back to the ground and brushed against grass. Grass. Why was there grass? There shouldn’t be grass in her room. Her eyes darted up, and saw the clear blue sky above, clouds streaked across it with a warm sun smiling down on her.

She didn’t feel very warm upon seeing it. She felt less warm when a voice startled her.

“Uh, hey there,” the voice greeted hesitantly. “Are you alright?”

Lilac turned, and saw a young man, maybe in his twenties, standing behind her. “… no,” she answered honestly, after a moment.

“Oh,” he chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, that… that’s pretty common around here.”

“What?” she asked, frowning.

He blinked, giving her an equally awkward smile. “It’d be easier to explain in town, I think.”

Normally, Lilac would probably question it a little bit more. But seeing as she ended up in the literal middle of nowhere, she didn’t feel like she had many more options. “Okay…?”


“… what?” was all Lilac could say after the stranger – Alistair, he said – explained everything to her. “I’m… I’m stuck?” she asked, voice flatter than she expected it to be.

“Well,” Alistair started. “There’s… there’s this book, very old, very ancient. It holds information on how to get back to your own world. But it’s locked away in this museum. And—"

“—so, I can get back?” she asked, and he nodded after a beat. “Then that’s what I’ll do, then,” she said. She had to get back. For Isiah.


Okay so overall, this was really good and I really like it a lot! The concept was super interesting, and the amount of worldbuilding that you fit in there was amazing. I dunno how you did that, it was great! I thought it was amazing.

My only real complaint was this sentence:

“She squinted up until she saw starbursts behind her eyes when she blinked…”

Starbursts made me think of the candy but I think I understand what you’re talking about? The like sunspots you get when you stare at a light for too long, right? Makes sense after thinking about it, it just gave me a very funny mental picture haha. I might just be picky, so feel free to ignore this!

Anyways, Broken Sky sounds really, really cool by the way, I hate heights but I would love to see it! It moves? Constantly?? Maps are inaccurate because of that??? It sounds so cool… I wanna see it!! I wanna go there!! Just… maybe from the ground adsjkldfsjkasdkl it sounds very pretty though! I like how unknown and Weird™ (but like good weird) Broken Sky is, too. Very mysterious and fun. Me like, me like !

The flying metaphors and similes you used were like gorgeous. The imagery is so good. I love it. I especially liked this one: “arms windmilling in a useless imitation of wings”. Also I really like how you describe things in general, very pretty!! You make everything feel so magical and also… not magical at the same time? Like tangible, in a way, I guess. It’s hard to explain but I love the way you describe stuff!!!

ALSO the mechanical dragons?? Were they inspired by real dragons?? Are there real dragons or was it just the mechanical dragons the whole time?? Do the real dragons exist anymore?? I’m so curious, I would read a whole book about this by the way. Very interesting concept!! OH also magic being allowed to exist in the sky because it’s not mapped out completely? I couldn’t tell if it was simply a metaphor or if it was literal, but either way, very, very cool.

The ending line is like so cool actually and I know I hate it when people don’t really say anything other than “it was good!!” but I really can’t say anything other than “it was good!!” because it was super good? I liked it a lot! Good work ! I love reading your writing it’s always so fun!

Daily 16th march || 726 words
The interview room looked harmless.
Five chairs.
One camera.
One table.
And in the middle of the table sat a very large bowl of mangoes.
No one knew who brought them.
The interviewer adjusted his tie nervously and glanced at the camera.
“Welcome,” he said. “Today we’re speaking with five individuals who may or may not be connected to several strange incidents involving mangoes, frying pans, and what the police report describes as ‘suspicious world-domination energy.’”
Across the table sat:
Sage, staring intensely at the mango bowl like it contained the secrets of the universe.
Cat, arms crossed, looking like she already regretted being here.
Kat, casually spinning a frying pan like it was a normal interview activity.
Chocolate, quietly eating a mango.
And Asha, sitting with a frying pan resting across her knees, watching everything with suspicious interest.
The camera light turned red.
“First question,” the interviewer said carefully. “What brings you all here today?”
Sage leaned forward immediately.
“The mangoes.”
Cat sighed.
“I knew it.”
The interviewer blinked.
“The mangoes… brought you here?”
“Yes,” Sage said firmly.
Chocolate raised a hand.
“They are very good mangoes.”
Kat tapped her frying pan on the table.
CLANG.
“Still wondering who actually brought them.”
Sage picked one up and inspected it with deep seriousness.
“Look at the color. The symmetry. This is not an ordinary mango.”
Cat rubbed her forehead.
“It’s a fruit.”
Asha leaned over to examine it too.
“…No,” Asha said slowly. “Sage might be onto something.”
Kat stared at both of them.
“Oh no.”
The interviewer quickly flipped his notes.
“Alright, next question. Are any of you planning to conquer the world?”
There was a short pause.
Then Asha’s eyes lit up.
“Oh absolutely.”
Cat pointed.
“See?? THIS is what I was worried about.”
The interviewer blinked.
“You… admit that?”
Asha shrugged and picked up her frying pan.
“I mean, if you’re going to do something, you might as well aim big.”
Sage nodded thoughtfully.
“Exactly.”
Cat looked between them.
“You two cannot encourage each other.”
Asha leaned forward excitedly.
“Think about it! Strategic mango distribution, frying pan enforcement, global leadership—”
Kat interrupted.
“Frying pan enforcement??”
Asha gestured with the pan.
“Highly effective. Very persuasive.”
Chocolate whispered to the cameraman, “I’m kind of curious how that works.”
The interviewer looked overwhelmed.
“So… this world domination plan…”
Asha pointed at Sage.
“Honestly I was waiting to hear Sage’s ideas first.”
Sage immediately stood up.
“With seventeen mangoes we could destabilize several major systems.”
Cat pointed again.
“NO.”
Sage began arranging mangoes on the table like a battle map.
“If deployed correctly—”
Asha stood up too, eyes shining.
“Yes. YES. This is exactly the kind of thinking we need.”
Kat leaned back.
“I’m witnessing the birth of a terrible idea.”
Asha grabbed a mango and raised it dramatically.
“Imagine it. A new era. Order. Leadership. Perfectly ripe mangoes for everyone.”
Chocolate nodded.
“That part does sound nice.”
The interviewer whispered, “Why mangoes?”
Sage pointed toward the window.
“Because the universe provides.”
At that exact moment—
CRASH.
Everyone turned.
Outside, a truck had tipped over.
The truck read:
INTERNATIONAL MANGO SHIPPING
Hundreds of mangoes rolled across the street.
People slipped.
Someone yelled, “WHY ARE THERE SO MANY MANGOES?!”
The cameraman whispered, “That’s… concerning.”
Slowly…
Sage turned back to the room.
Eyes glowing.
“…They have arrived.”
Asha looked outside.
Then at the mango bowl.
Then at the frying pan in their hand.
A slow chaotic grin spread across their face.
“Sage.”
“Yes?”
“I fully support this plan.”
Cat grabbed Kat’s frying pan.
“No you don’t.”
Asha ignored this completely.
“Step one,” Asha announced confidently.
“Mango control.”
Chocolate grabbed two more mangoes.
“I volunteer as snack supervisor.”
Kat stared at the chaos.
“This interview has officially become a crime.”
The interviewer lowered his microphone.
“I should have stayed in weather reporting.”
Sage raised a mango like a symbol of destiny.
“Friends.”
Asha lifted the frying pan beside it.
“Today…”
They both grinned.
“…we start something magnificent.”
Outside, another person slipped on a mango.
Cat groaned.
“Oh this is going to end terribly.”
Asha grinned and both her and sage said
“I mean at least there’s mangoes”
Chocolate nodded thoughtfully and said
“I’m in”
and finally with a sigh Kat finally said
“As long as there’s frying pans involved why not”
“AND SO IT BEGAN”
(The interviewer disappears after this short sentence )

critique for toko | weekly two

in this short story, characterization excels. koah’s relationships with the sea and his sister show his steadfastness and commitment. niamh perfectly fills the role of interrupting younger sister. however, it’s the unfolding mystery of the connection between koah’s music and the ocean that carries the momentum of the story.

i think you could contribute to the mystery and atmosphere by clarifying the danger of the ocean, storms, and even including paranoia about creatures that lurk beneath the surface (koah and niamh both dismiss their grandmother’s belief in selkies, which is contradictory to niamh’s later amazement and acceptance of a massive sea creature). there were a few moments where the dialogue took me out of the story — “The dolphins literally clapped.” in particular. their father entering the story in the last two hundred words also confused me; incorporating him as a presence throughout, whether in scenes or as a background presence with thoughts around koah’s boat and music, would better set him up to appear in the falling action. giving the three characters three different takes on the music would effectively create conflict and interpersonal tension; maybe young niamh is eager and curious about the magic, while koah is more cautious and torn between his curiosity and taboos, but their father thinks it’s repulsive and unnatural.

Tilly's /SPEEDRAN/ weekly #2
──── ౨ৎ ────

PART ONE: OUTLINE

Beginning: Sisters Nasia and Solenne bring into their dwelling a wounded being of an unknown species that they found in their yard, who seemed to have crash landed from somewhere. Just weeks before they had been attacked by another unknown anomaly in that same yard, but everything about this one's appearance was different from them.
The being awakens, and Kylo, the sisters' father, discovers them.

Rising Action: Tristan explains to Kylo that he came for him and requires his assistance. He explains that his kind, the Aneile, have protected their realm Skaiyward for centuries and their leaders in the high councils never told Kylo's kind about the Aneile's existence because they are Dimlov, the same race the Aneile were fighting. The Dimlov are after the Vailerke's light within them and the grand store of light held in the centre of Skaiyward, and Tristan needed to connect with Kylo as he's an apprentice under the smiths that craft the Vailerke's wings and that group has knowledge of that light the Dimlov are after.
Kylo agrees to help, and Nasia and Solenne convince him to take them with him.

Climax: Tristan and the Vailerkes, along with other Aneile that joined them on the way, have nearly reached the last gate to the centre of Skaiyward. Nasia and Solenne are fighting off a group of Dimlov that intercepted, and Solenne gets hurt, before Tristan reaches them to deal with the remaining forces. He expresses guilt for letting Nasia and Solenne come this far, intending to go to Kylo and tell him to go back with his daughters. He needed them, as Vailerke, to travel as far as they have through the gates because as Aneile he doesn't have the same light as they have within them to qualify to get through the gateways, but the highest gate is one most Vailerke can't even enter, so he sees their work as done.
Solenne protests against leaving while Nasia had been reluctant of this quest the whole time and she and Tristan convince Solenne to agree. Tristan takes Solenne inside to find her father.
A scream sends Nasia racing after them, and in horror she finds Tristan attacking Solenne, drawing out the light from within her that all Vailerke need to survive through the wound she sustained. Nasia attacks him before his protective field can stop her blade, and the commotion brings out the other Aneile and Kylo. The Aneile realise Tristan is Dimlov, not one of them, disguised after stealing light from multiple Vailerke. Solenne has lost a critical amount of hers, and Nasia mourns, pleading she won't fall with the lack of the light that keeps Vailerke alive in Skaiyward.

Conclusion: Solenne is bedridden, while Nasia is preparing to take on the quest. If she gets to the highest gates to the central light, she can find an antidote to rescue her sister, so she overcomes her reluctance to join the fight for Solenne's sake. Solenne rues ever letting Tristan get close to her.

501 words

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PART TWO: WRITE

Only three weeks since that disintegrating shadow had bl3d into dark wisps across the pristine marble floors of the high court, yet Nasia was here again with another anomaly before her.
She closed her eyes. “Oh Sol…we barely survived an attack from some mysterious being weeks ago, and we've bringing a new kind inside?”
“…He's clearly not like them.” Solenne fidgeted. “Maybe the council didn't listen to us the first time, but they'll have to now—we've seen an abnormal being twice, and now two completely different kinds. We could at least try taking this one to the court too.”
Lava of indignation bubbled in Nasia's chest. “I mean, they were pretty bent on gaslighting us when we brought that first one in…”
She turned back to the table. Moonlight streamed from the window across the face of the stranger bound with yards of rope to the dark oak surface. His skin was miles lighter than theirs, scattered with scars and streaks of identical shade to the splotches that painted Solenne's hands and dress from dragging him inside. Nasia couldn't even find the gold markings of their kind anywhere on his features, but the lack of wings on his back stuck out to her the most.
No wings, akin to the outlandish being she and Solenne had brought to the council three weeks ago, yet he wasn't of that kind either.
What was he?
The stranger stirred, and Solenne gripped Nasia's arm.
“Still don't think we should've brought him inside…quick, help me tighten these ropes.” Nasia dropped to crawl under the table, and Solenne followed.
“I think-”
The ropes fell limp before their fingers reached them, and a perceptible thud sent the girls flying to their feet. Solenne shrieked.
The anomaly was standing.
“I appreciate the caution, but rope can’t do much.”
Flames licked to life as the sisters drew their swords, but the stranger only raised his scarred hands.
“Stay calm, I’m not armed.”
He swayed backwards, but his hands caught the the edge of shelves behind him. “Apologies, I- haven’t quite got my bearings. I can assure you, though…”
He blinked, taking in his audience. Fascination painted his expression, and Nasia stepped ahead of Solenne on instinct when his eyes locked with hers.
“You are…most beautiful. What are you?”
“I would ask the same of you.”
He met Nasia's stone gaze. “You do not know my kind?”
She shook her head.
“Hold on-” His head tilted. “Are you not Vailerke? The ones with wings?”
Solenne’s glance seemed to ask permission from Nasia, and she felt the urge to deny it. Before she could object, Solenne pulled the tassel of her iridescent cloak. The fabric rippled to the ground and crystalline wings sprung from her back. The stranger's jaw dropped.
“…Your kind make these?”
Solenne nodded, eyes softening, and Nasia struggled to hide her scorn at the sparkle on her sister's cheeks.
“Who are you if you know of us?” She retrieved the cloak and shoved it into Solenne's hands.
The being shook from his trance. “My apologies—my name is Tristan, and my kind are known as Aneile.”
The workshop door swung open, and Nasia's heart leapt into her throat. Tristan stumbled away at the sight of another flaming sword.
Solenne jumped in front of him. “Papa, don't!”
Papa froze in the doorway. Nasia watched him register the scene and the strange anomaly standing behind his daughter with nerves on edge.
“Stars,” he muttered under his breath. “Nasia, what is this?”
Tristan stepped around Solenne, and the sword raised. “Peace, mister. I am not armed. Aren't you Apprentice Kylo Stellir?”
The sisters locked eyes in shock. Papa's eyebrows raised.
“It depends who's asking.”
“I'm Tristan. Do you know of the Aneile?”
“…Only from folklore. How do you know me?”
“I come for your assistance.” The shadow over Tristan's expression sent shivers down Nasia's spine. “The news I come with is grave.”
He hesitated, eyes flicking to the sisters behind him.
“It's alright, Tristan—anything you tell me, you tell them.”
Tristan nodded. “Aneile are not folklore. We have protected your kind and Skaiyward for centuries, and your lack of awareness tells me everything.”
“Protected us from what?”
He looked back at Solenne. “The Dimlov. Whatever your leaders have told your kind about your entire world is a lie. The Dimlov have been infiltrating your society in waves, and those in your high courts are of that very race, seeking to tear down Skaiyward for the light buried within. Your entire government is corrupted.”
Nasia's stomach twisted. She watched Papa step closer.
“And you seek me for what reason?”
“You apprentices are the closest we can get to the Wingsmiths's knowledge of the light the Dimlov are after. What they passed to you is of great importance to our mission. Am I right to believe that you smiths work with the light to create your wings since it keeps you Vailerke alive in Skaiyward? That this light is also within you?”
Papa scratched his head. “…You're not wrong.”
“Then we need your help. Time is short, but more Aneile are arriving for assistance.”
“For what?”
“To travel through the gateways of Skaiyward to the central light, where your highest leaders dwell and plot to take it. As we're not Vailerke, we need you to help us pass the gateways. I know I'm asking of a lot, Apprentice Stellir.”
“If our father is going, so are we,” Solenne piped up.
Nasia's stomach dropped. “We are?”
“No!” Papa's harsh tone made her flinch.
“Papa, you can't leave us here, and you're not going alone.” Solenne tugged her older sister's arm. “Naz, tell him!”
Nasia swallowed. “I…”
“It would only be to the fifth gate,” Tristan pleaded. “And I shall not be the only Aneile there to protect you. I beg you, Stellir—you are the last apprentice, and we can't reach the Wingsmiths. If we fail, Skaiyward will fall.”
The silence was deafening. At last, Papa sheathed his sword, but Nasia read the apprehension in his eyes.
“I will think on it.”
“…You have until the moon reaches the centre. The Aneile are waiting.”
Nasia's gaze flashed to the window. The moon was halfway there.

- - -

Nasia's blade just pierced through another towering Dimlov when Solenne came flying through the throngs of battles with her own sword drawn.
“Naz, I still haven't seen Tristan.”
Nasia gripped her shoulder at the breathless news and the anxiety in her eyes. “He'll come, Sol.”
“The fifth gate is about to close for the night. If he doesn't…”
Nasia's eyes widened. “Watch out!”
Nasia pushed Solenne and raised her sword to meet the obsidian blade of another Dimlov. The force pushed her to her knees, but Solenne swung her weapon to alleviate the weight.
The shadow engaged with Solenne as more forces flooded their surroundings. Nasia jumped to her feet to fight back to back with her sister.
“We need help!” Solenne shouted over the clashes of steel.
Nasia raised her horn with her free hand and blew a shrill call, continuing to strike the enemies that surrounded them. A cry from Solenne forced her to turn. She was on her knees, clutching her shoulder as milky gold streamed through her fingers.
“Sol!” Nasia swung her blade in an arc that took out both the Dimlov bearing down on Solenne, but the shadows pressed harder.
The Aneile's response horn reached them, but they were still paces away.
“Hey Sunlight, did you miss me?”
Tristan.
Undeniable relief flooded Nasia, and she caught Solenne's shining eyes as dazzling light tore through the Dimlov forces around them. Tristan landed amidst them, wielding swords in each hand and making quick work of the shadows until half had fallen. The rest fled but ran straight into the arriving Aneile forces.
“You came…” Solenne's legs buckled, but Tristan caught her, dropping both his swords.
“Your work is done. You should turn back now with your father.”
Solenne's brow furrowed. “But you haven't reached the end—”
“The deal was until the fifth gateway.”
“But if we as Vailerke can't even get through, how will you?”
Tristan scoffed. “If the leaders dwelling there are Dimlov, we're their kryptonite. We can manage.”
“But-”
“Your work is done, Sunlight.” He unbuckled the armour over his shoulder to tear a piece off his tunic underneath. “Besides…I hate to see you like this.”
Solenne’s jaw clenched as he pressed the cloth against her wound.
Nasia knelt beside them. “He's right, Sol.”
A grunt of protest was her only response.
“Sir Tristan?”
They glanced up to see Aneile approaching. “We've held them off, but the gate closes soon. Are you ready?”
Tristan nodded, tying the cloth tightly around Solenne's shoulder before extending a hand. “Let's go find your father.”
She sighed but accepted his hand, then gasped as he lifted her straight into his arms. Her frown broke into a laugh, and Nasia smirked.
One of the Aneile faced her. “Lady Nasia, will you help us locate the gate before you leave?”
“Uh…” Nasia glanced back to Tristan carrying Solenne away.
He turned as if sensing her gaze. “Go ahead! She'll be fine.”
Solenne's face emerged from his shoulder as he faced the path again, and Nasia rolled her eyes at her broad grin and the sparkle in her cheeks.
The pair disappeared, and Nasia followed the Aneile. “So, when does the gate close?”
“When the moon is quarter to the centre of the sky. If-”
A strangled cry rang through the trees, and Nasia's heart stopped.
Solenne.
Before the Aneile reacted Nasia was flying back to the smoky battlefield, flaming sword ignited.
“Tristan!” She screamed out as she burst into the ancient building, but at once paralysing force seized her limbs. Her sword dropped as she strained to regain control.
Through whatever unseen force that held her, she forced her eyes upwards to scan the hall. Her bl00d froze.
"Tristan!“ Nasia's tone turned from a cry for help to a scream of panic and rage.
Solenne was against the wall, struggling against Tristan's iron grip. His free hand was gloved with a device that glittered a magnificent gold from light that was pouring from Solenne's wounded shoulder. The light she needed to survive.
The stark horror in Solenne's fading eyes pierced Nasia's heart through, but the paralysis wouldn't abate. ”Solenne!“
A flame streaked overhead. Tristan yelled out, collapsing and releasing Solenne who fell limp to the ground. The crimson hilt of a blade protruded from his back.
The field holding Nasia snapped that instant, and she stumbled to her knees as Aneile flooded into the hall, weapons drawn.
”Stand down!”
Tristan scrambled to his feet and dived for the window, but Nasia caught dark wisps spilling from the wound on his back.
Just like the being she took to court eight weeks ago. He was not Aneile.
Her hands shook as she rushed to her sister's side, the Aneile's pursuit after Tristan drowned out by her grief.
“Solenne!” She stifled a sob and pulled the limp girl into her lap. Her wings lay shattered beside them. "Papa, help!“

- - -

”You're leaving?“
The small voice sent Nasia straight to Solenne's bedside. ”Sol—yes. I'm going through the fifth gate with the Aneile. That antidote is there, and I'm bringing it back to you.”
Solenne's lip trembled. “But…you didn't want to go.”
Nasia reached to wipe the tears that streamed down Solenne's sunken cheeks. “I'm ready now.”
“I'm sorry, Naz,” she croaked.
Nasia shook her head. “For what?”
“I never should've trusted him.”
The crack in her voice broke Nasia's heart. “We all did.”
“Promise me you'll come back.”
Nasia kissed her sister's forehead.
“Count each sunset, and I'll be back before you reach fifteen.”

1,959 words

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PART THREE: CRITIQUE

Hey Saffron! (Thanks for saving me asdfghjk-)
First of all, Saige is a really interesting character! I like how you showed the relationship dynamics between her and others at the orphanage like Jax, Caleb, etc. Her connection with Caleb is also quite sweet
Since you rushed this, you don't have to listen to most of my critique, but without further ado-

What stuck out to me the most as I read this was more syntax or formatting related, but it's more grammatically correct in fiction writing to have a line break whenever either a new character is speaking, the time or location shifts, a new action is made, and so on. Most of your prose was bulky paragraphs which made me struggle to separate who was speaking at what time, for example:

“Wake up lazy bum.” he said, shaking Elias awake. “Wha- ah, OH.” murmured Elias as he shot upright on his bed. Sometimes he forgot that he slept on the top bunk, and nearly hit his head on the ceiling. “Jax! I told you to stop scaring me awake! Someday when I get a concussion for hitting my head, it’s gonna be all your fault.” said Elias with a pouty face. “Ugh, it’s time to get up, so I woke you up. You should be thankful.” replied Jax as he walked out their bedroom to go and get ready for the day.

It would be so much easier to follow if you made a line break every time a new person spoke so we could follow Jax and Elias' conversation better ^^

Caleb yawned and groggily turned over to face her. He smiled, “Good morning sunshine.” Saige answered, “Good morning to you too. I think we should get up, we’ve got loads to do today.”

Here I think it would be better to break it up like this: 'He smiled. “Good morning, sunshine.” “Good morning to you too,” Saige answered. “I think…”' Just because I struggled to catch whether Caleb or Saige was saying good morning first.

The name Willow Ridge is so pretty by the way! And Saige having a sister-like relationship with Anya is one of my favourite tropes haha <3

Speeding through this now…

Her, Caleb, and Jax were told to rework the back and side flower beds.

'She, Caleb and Jax' is more grammatically correct!

“Ow!” Saige said suddenly. Caleb rushed over to help her. “What did you do?” he asked. “I just cut my hand on the wired fence.” she said. “Oh you clumsy girl.” sighed Caleb as he pulled a band-aid out of his pocket and patched her up.

To variate your sentences and not have too many redundant dialogue tags, you don't need to add a “he asked, she said” all the time. Try something like this:

“Ow!” Saige gasped.
Caleb rushed over. “What did you do?”
She lifted her hand. “I just cvt myself on the wired fence.”
“Oh, you clumsy girl,” Caleb sighed. He pulled out a band-aid to patch her up.

See how it varies the sentences? That keeps it more engaging

Final notes, when it comes to the scenes with Saige's uncle, you could cut a lot of dialogue tags and redundant sentences here to keep the pacing tight, which would immerse readers in the tension and Saige's fear in the moment much better.
Overall, you followed a story structure very well from exposition to resolution in the short word limit and of course despite the speedrunning xD Nice job!

389 words

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TOTAL: 2849 WORDS

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

◪ Noͦ 16
Wordcount: 511/500
Topic: Interview
Points earned: 700+50 for proof
Cabin: Cyberpunk

Interviewers constantly push each other aside to get a look at Lionald's face, some even trying to coerce his younger sister Felicity into joining the interrogation. Vinshllite Alexei has been tied down and is the first to be subjected to questions.

Interviewer 1: Alexei Spears, if I'm not wrong?
Alexei: uh-
Interviewer 2: Why are you in Ropyronas?
Alexei: I washed up here and-
Interviewer 3: Stop lying! There are cliffs all around Ropyronas!

A cacophony of boos and jeers erupts from the crowd.

Alexei: No, I really did wash up on Lunova, and I walked all the way here.
Interviewer 1: You expect us to believe that?
Alexei: …yes?
Interviewer 3: Tell us the real truth, will you?

Alexei's protests fall on deaf ears. On the side, Lionald has been pushed against a wall, desperately trying to protect his little sister behind his back.

Interviewer 4: Crown Prince Lionald, you're already in communication exile! How can you break your citizens' trust even further by harboring this illegal immigrant in your home? Do you feel no shame or remorse? Can you not see the fault of your actions?
Lionald, snapping: First of all, my citizens don't treat me like royalty anyway, so stop pretending like any of you actually care about me - loud gasps - Second of all, he's not an illegal citizen- the borders are down for God's sake! There are so many people who come here to live in the inn. Last time I checked, we don't have a passport checking counter, do we?
Interviewer 5: What's a passport? Is that another scheme the Vinshllite has told you about?
Linoald: Never mind.
Interviewer 6: You didn't answer the first question! Stop trying to avoid answers! What are you doing with somebody like that in the palace? That place is only for true royalty; you are lucky the gracious queen still allows you to stay in it! How dare you break her trust like this?

Alexei is surrounded more and more by different reporters who wish to have him on the front page of their magazine. It would be exotic, he could hear the whispers around him. What headline could we use? Vinshllite illegal sneaks into the country? Assassin in cahoots with the Crown Prince?

Interviewer 2: Alexei Spears, if you are a Vinshllite, your skin should be as pale as in the reports. Your skin is clearly tan enough to show that you've been here for at least five months!
Alexei: Actually, I've only been here for three days.
Interviewer 1: Lies! It's all lies, and we won't fall for it! Explain why your skin is so tan!
Alexei: Well, I usually spend a lot of time in my forge, at least when I was still back home, so my skin just got darker because of all the exposure to the fire-
Interviewer 3: Forge! Forge, he says! This man is planning to make weapons to ruin our royal family and our prestigious queen! The Royal Prince must have helped him with this.

God, what a headache.

short story planning!

vague idea: exploring charles, ollie and gem's characters (maybe with cameos from joel, martyn, ren, andy, scott, pearls)

brainstorming (random ideas):

something about ollie getting lost or being incompetent would be funny i think lol
ooooh maybe charles and ollie are trying to prank pearl and it goes horribly wrong
i'm liking this
or maybe gem would work better, based on the geography of the island. because i think i want their failure to involve falling into a cenote or something similar, which might make more sense on the cliff-edge side of the island. but not the lighthouse- i think slighty inland, by gem's house, next to Magical Mountain.
okay, yeah that works. so main premise is charles and ollie trying to prank gem, they somehow fall into a cenote and are stuck.
probably the tense but / the climax will involve the cenote beginning to fill with the tides and the fear of drowning. we can do flashes between the charles / ollie pov and the search party, who i think will be gem, pearl and joel.
they figure out the duo is missing cus ollie missed his visit to pearl's windmills to fix em. gem is immediately like yep these two are incompetent they def have gotten stuck somewhere.
now how is the party going to find them hmmm
EXPLOSION
yeah we'll run with that



228 words


It was an average day on Kayfie island.



Palm trees rustled in the strong sea breezes, swaying gently over the bay. The sun shone brightly, persevering despite heavy clouds in the distance promising evening showers.



And, of course, Charles and Ollie were up to no good.



They were currently in the brush behind Taylor's house, Ollie fiddling with wiring he was laying over the ground. Beside him, Charles scoffed.



“Are you sure this is going to work?”



“Yes, Charlie,” Ollie said exasperatedly, turning to face his partner in crime. “We literally tested it yesterday.”



“Yeah, but-”



Ollie stood up sharply. “No buts!” He whirled around to face Charles. “Can you go stand over there to test it?”



Charlie nodded and began picking his way through the foliage, making sure to complain loudly about any thorns he encountered.



“Okay, dry firing. Everything is connected…” Ollie nodded, satisfied. “And, go!”



Click!



“Yes! It's good, C! It's work-”



He stopped short, having turned around to see not a trace of Charles.



“Charlie?”



Nothing but bushes and trees. Ollie frowned. He'd looked away for three seconds, and Charlie wasn't exactly quiet…



Ollie began to pick through the undergrowth, his frown deepening. He could see where his friend had trampled the bushes, but where-



Then he was falling.



————



Percy sat impatiently under her windmill, bouncing her legs.



It wasn't like Ollie to miss an appointment. As the town's resident mechanic, he knew that people relied on him. Ollie prided himself on his punctuality.



So where on Earth was he?



Percy sighed, glancing up at the creaky blades of her windmill. It was just scheduled maintenance- nothing urgent. But she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong.



After twenty minutes passed with no sign of the guy, Percy stood up. She was going to find Taylor.



And they were going to figure out what the heck was going on.



————



SPLASH!



Ollie's fall was broken abruptly as he was enveloped by icy cold water, knocking the bottom with his ankle painfully. The air was stolen from his lungs. Frantically, Ollie kicked at the water, reaching up to the surface, to brilliant, lifesaving air-



He gasped as his head broke free from the water. Ollie's heart pounded. What the heck? What had happened?



Then, echoing through the dusty air, came a voice.



“Ollie?”



“Charlie!”



“Over here!”



Ollie scanned the water for his friend's voice, blinking against the darkness. There- on a small, isolated island of sand, just poking over the surface.



He dragged himself sluggishly through the water. Finally, he reached the sand. He felt Charlie's hand wrap around his shoulders and heave him onto the shore.



“You good?”



“Yeah, mate,” panted Ollie. “But, uh- where on earth are we?”



Charlie pointed upwards. Following his finger, Ollie saw a gap in the ceiling, light streaming through to illuminate the otherwise shadowy cavern. Roots and stalactites clung to the underside of the ground, and but for each other, it seemed that the peculiar underground lake was devoid of life.



“It's a cenote, I think,” Charlie said.



“A what?”



“A cenote. An underground cave with water. I knew they were a thing around these parts, but have never seen one on Kayfie!”



Ollie snorted. “Well, you have now.”



Charlie elbowed Ollie sharply, earning a yelp. There was silence for a beat.



“So, uh- what do we do?”



————



“Taylor!”



Percy waved at her friend from afar. Taylor glanced up, surprised. They were over in the main town, by Ethan's shop, where Taylor had been chatting to the blonde shopkeeper. Percy jogged over.



“Hi, Persephone,” Taylor greeted, tone questioning.



“Hi, Tay. Hey, Ethan,” she replied, slightly out of breath. “I think we have a problem.”



She took a breath and explained her theory, each sentence furthering the concerned look on Taylor's face. At the end, the ginger woman nodded.



“You're right, that's really weird. And you're sure you guys got the right time?”



“Positive,” Percy replied.



“Alright, then.” Tay smiled, cracking her knuckles. “Looks like we got an Ollie to find. You coming?”



“Why not,” said Ethan, shrugging. “Buisness is slow. Give me two seconds.” He ducked inside.



“What do you think we should do, Tay?” Percy asked. Her friend paused for a second.



“We could ask Doc. They're good friends.”



“Sounds like a plan.” Percy glanced at the sky, where dark clouds had begun to obfuscate the sun.

“Let's get going- I think it's going to get bad.”



“Wouldn't want to get caught in this storm!”



————



It had begun to rain.



Ollie was shivering, watching helplessly as rain fell through the hole to the outside world.



It had been a while since they'd fallen into the cenote. Neither Charlie nor Ollie had a watch, so they couldn't tell exactly how long. They'd managed to swim a bit, in an attempt to find an exit, but had concluded only that the cavern was too vast to explore fully.



So they had waited.



Now, however, it appeared that their waiting was over.



The water level was rising- faster than seemed possible. Rain was falling heavily, but it couldn't possibly explain the persistent rise in the water. The little island was now no larger than a few feet across. Ollie's back was against Charlie. He swallowed.



“This isn't going to keep rising… right?”



“These things are sometimes connected to the sea, which would mean…”



Ollie cursed. “Not good.”



“Not at all. But- somebody must have noticed that we're missing, right?”



“I would have missed my chat with Percy,” Ollie considered. “Maybe she'll think something's wrong.”



“Well- we have to get somebody's attention!” The waves were washing over their feet now. It wouldn't be long before the island was submerged.



Ollie chewed on his lip nervously. He had one idea. It would be dangerous, and probably incredibly, incredibly stupid, but-



“How good is your aim?”



————



“Doc!”



Percy, Taylor and Ethan burst into the clinic, looking wildly for the doctor. He jerked his head up in surprise from where he’d been talking to the receptionist.



“Hey, guys-”



“Doc, do you know where Ollie is?”



The doctor blinked. “Ollie?”



“He’s missing,” explained Ethan. “Has been for the whole afternoon, apparently. We were just wondering if you’ve seen him.”



“He missed my appointment, see,” said Percy. Doc nodded in understanding.



“I see. Something’s up. Well, I can’t say I’ve seen him-” the faces of the trio fell immediately- “but! But, you could check the farms. He sometimes gets distracted over there, you know.”



Taylor nodded. “Alright, we will. Thanks, Doc.”



“No worries- hope you find him!”



Percy, Taylor and Ethan filed back outside. The rain had become torrential. They huddled under the lip of the roof, Taylor gazing desolately out into the water.



“Why would he be out in the farms when it’s like this?”



“I don’t know, Tay,” Percy responded morosely. She sighed.



“Come on, guys. It’s our only lead. We can’t just give up.” Ethan put his head down and stepped out into the rain, gesturing for the others to follow. Reluctantly, they stepped out, wiping water out of their eyes.



BANG!


In the distance, a firework went off in a cloud of shimmering smoke. Percy’s head snapped up.



“What the-”



“Who’s firing fireworks in this rain?”



Ethan’s eyes lit up. “It’s him. It has to be. He’s calling for help!”



“And it looks like it was coming from my house,” Taylor added.



“Well, what are we waiting for?” cried Percy. Grabbing the others’ hands, she broke into a sprint.



————



Ollie and Charlie were treading water violently. Their refuge had been dissolved by the unrelenting tide. Neither could stand. They’d managed to chuck the hastily constructed firework out the hole in the ceiling without bringing the roof down, which was a miracle. Thank the heavens Ollie kept his prank material in waterproof pouches!



Even so, despite the imminent danger of a cave-in being avoided, they were by no means safe.



“Keep going, Ollie,” croaked Charlie, noticing his companion beginning to tire. Maybe five, maybe ten minutes had passed since the firework, and Ollie felt like his limbs were about to fall off.



“I can’t,” he gurgled, head ducking under the water with the effort. He sputtered, hacking water out of his mouth. Right. No talking.



The rain kept pouring. The waves kept rising. And Charlie and Ollie kept tiring.



Eventually, Ollie closed his eyes.



Maybe this was it. Maybe this was how it ended- punished for a prank with a soggy death. It wasn’t exactly how he’d hoped to go.



His arms slowed, then stopped, legs barely displacing water. Beside him, Charles was not faring much better.



Hey, at least they’d go out together.



Water washed over his closed eyelids. If he let himself go, it was almost peaceful. Just the water, the sound of rain, and-



“OLLIE!”



He flung his eyes open, gasping. Above him, in the hole in the ceiling- a head.



“Ollie! Hang on! We’re coming!”



Three heads. A blonde guy, a curly ginger girl, and-



Oh my gosh. Percy had come for them.



Ollie pulled Charlie up, pointing. His friend’s eyes lit up.



“Is that-”



“Percy! And Taylor and Ethan!”



Something fell into the water with a splash. It was a rope.



They were saved.



Ollie clung onto the rope, too weak to attempt the climb. He felt himself being pulled- up, up, up- until finally, finally-



He collapsed onto solid ground.



Ollie lay on his back, exhausted. He heard the trio heaving Charlie up beside him, but couldn’t bring himself to turn his head. He had been so close to death-



But he’d made it.



Thanks to his friends.



“What happened, mate?” asked Percy, eyes wide.



Ollie closed his eyes, exhaling. Beside him, Charlie spoke.



“Let’s just say- don't try and set up surprise fireworks in Taylor’s backyard.”

1635 words


critique!

evegau wrote:

I must have been about eight when it happened. Love this hook! Draws me in nicely. Certainly, I was younger than nine. It was a short way from school to home, so I would walk back each day. Everyone knew each other in the village, so it wasn’t as if I was likely to be in much danger, and if I was, there would be someone nearby to help me. The only person the villagers never spoke to was the crazy man – but we knew he didn’t pose a threat to any of us. The route home was a pleasant one, especially at that time of year. The flowers were beginning to bloom, and the river was full of meltwater. Great first paragraph. Maybe try and vary your sentence types as they're all very similar (two clauses seperated by a comma or dash)

On that day in particular, it was sunnier than it had been for months. I was in a pensive mood. Even as an eight year old, I was a dreamer. I remember that we had gone outside to make the most of the weather, and, while the other children ran around, I sat, reading in the shade of the gnarled old oak. Those were the days before it was cut down. Consider using the past continuous/imperfect tense- although simple past should also be fine, it's colloquially accepted. Preoccupied by the story I had been reading, I got my things in order slowly; left after everyone else. I wandered across the field, towards the bridge, slightly dazed in the sunlight.

Then I saw it. A thrush. Usually a shy bird, I was surprised by how close it was to me, Perched on a branch above my head. It tilted its head, fixing a jewel-bright eye on me. Then it opened its beak and trilled three short, sharp notes. I was transfixed. As it fluttered along the tree-shaded path that ran alongside the river, I followed. Its nutty brown wings flapped like flags, showing me the way… to where? Love this! Very intriguing!

The thrush stopped. As it turned to me, it saw its white front, speckled with brown. Then it flew away, shrieking its high-pitched call, as if it had finally realised I was human. As it flew out of my field of vision, it seemed to dissipate into the air. It was only then that I realised how far along the river I was. I turned to go. Then I froze. A figure was knelt by the river. Who was that? How had I not noticed them behind me?

Looking closer, I could see the figure more clearly. A woman, I thought. Though she seemed young, her hair was silvery grey. It could have been the angle of the sun, but it seemed to me that she was glowing silver. A soft snorting noise came from the trees, and I turned to see a pony tied to a birch. I heard it breathe in quiet puffs – once, twice, then it lowered its head to munch some grass. Were those gold threads in its mane? I couldn’t be sure. Feels very mystical, as if it's not quite real. Nice imagery!

I made a quiet noise in my throat, and the woman looked up. She was perhaps even younger than I had first thought. Her skin was ethereally pale, maybe even with a silver tint, I thought again. 'Tinted with silver' or another rephrasing may be beneficial.As she made eye contact with her incredibly pale blue eyes, I noticed that her face was wet with tears. I hesitated. I didn’t know the woman, and it wasn’t really any of my business, but I was curious. “Why are you crying?” I asked, “If I was magic like you, I would be happy.”

The lady laughed through her tears, and looked out over the water as she did, so the laugh echoed away, until it was distant and lonely. “I’m not magic,” she replied, “If I were, I would be far away from here by now.”

I said nothing in return, but I did not leave. I wanted to know her story. She looked at me again. “Do you know the crazy man?” she wanted to know.

“Everyone knows him,” I said, by way of an affirmation.

She smiled; a smile tinged with melancholy affection. “Yes,” she murmured, “They do,” and after a pause she continued, “I’m his daughter.”

Being a child, I had no grasp of tactfulness. “The crazy man doesn’t have a daughter,” I informed her, bluntly. Really enjoying this childlike narrator!

She shook her head, silvery hair glowing as she did so. “He does. He has sons as well, my brothers, but they’ve all gone far away. They all had dreams of their own. The eldest is a teacher now, the next oldest is potter, and the youngest of the three of them is an actor by day, a poet by night. I’m glad they followed their hearts, but as the youngest, I’m stuck looking after my dad.”

“Hmm,” I said, “I like my dad.”

She smiled again, almost in a patronising way, like she was amused by this, but I forgave her, because it seemed to me that some part of her brain thought a little sideways, like mine. Great ideas in this sentence, but I would suggest splitting it into two. It's quite wordy, and the repeated commas aren't ideal. “I like my dad too,” she told me, “It’s just… it would break my heart to leave him, but living like this is killing me,” I must have looked alarmed, because she clarified, “Not literally. It’s just, it’s difficult. I want to go and follow my heart like my brothers have.”

“Go and chase your dream, then,” I instructed her, decisively.

“Oh,” she frowned, “I wasn’t quite expecting that. I’m not sure what I was expecting, really, telling a random child this,” she added, almost to herself.

“You should,” I insisted.

She got up from the riverbank and, went to untie her pony, so I couldn’t see her face as she replied. “I think I might, you know. And if I do, you’ll know. The silver tends to stain.” Mysterious (very cool sentence. Don't know exactly what it implies, but maybe that's the point?)

Barely hearing the last remark, I took this as a signal that the conversation was over. I ought to have been home by then, anyway, so I knew I should hurry. Before long, I was curled up in my bed, reading my book, and in the way that children do, I had quite forgotten about the strange encounter.

It was only the next morning that I was reminded of the silver lady. I was early to school, and I sat, reading, while two of the teachers talked. “Did you hear what happened?” asked one.

I pretended to keep reading. “To the crazy man?” the other replied.

“Yes, that, but about his daughter as well.”

The second speaker made a noise of surprise. “He had a daughter?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know either until today, but apparently she’s gone, run away.”

“Oh. And that’s why he…?”

“Could well be,” said the first teacher, ominously. Nicely done, very effective to not state explicitly what happened


I never found out exactly what happened to the crazy man, because we moved away from the village soon after. Recently, we came back to visit. The oak tree in the school playground was gone. I wandered along the river, but I couldn’t find the place where I had met her. After all that time, I wondered if I had imagined it – or dreamt it. I sighed and turned around to leave. Then I saw it. A silver haze, shimmering in the air. Breathing a sigh of relief, I realised that now she must be free. Then, a lonely laugh came echoing back over the water to me. It has stayed in my heart to this day, and it is not so lonely anymore.
Gorgeous final paragraph. Would recommend playing around with different sentence lengths, structures, and punctuation. It would help to vary the reading experience and make it a much more lively read!

Overall, a very enjoyable, mysterious read! I think your imagery is great, and there are some really good moments that stick out, like the opening lines and the dialogue with the woman. Consider fiddling with your sentence structures a bit, and including some more out-there vocab to add variety. Great job!

Weekly 2
Words: 1728

Part 1
Words: 285

Exposition: Arabella, the princess of Remaria, is sent to live for one hundred days and one hundred nights in a castle alone. It is not the current royal castle she is used to, but an empty, cold, stone castle they had abandoned long ago. This is a coming of age ritual among her people called a Remarul that prepares her to become the Queen eventually if she survives. It is supposed to give her time alone with the gods for them to bestow their gifts on her. There is not much food or water in the castle and the haunting shadows seem to be on a mission to drive her insane.
Rising action: She wanders the endless corridors of the castle, dehydration and hunger gnawing on her. Technically, she is a Faerie and does not require water or food like humans do, but just because she can survive doesn’t mean she can’t feel the effects. One hundred days is the absolute max without water. Kind of like a human going for five days without water. At night, she sleeps on the floor beneath her heavy dress, feeling cold and dirty and alone.
Climax: Caelor, a knight from Arabella’s old life, breaks into the castle to free her from her Remarul, meaning to save her life.
Falling action: She panics, thinking that her Remarul will not be complete if she drinks his offered water. The stress and dehydration catches up to her quickly as she tries to run from Caelor. He confesses his love, and her love for him shadows her as she tries to ignore it.
Resolution: She collapses to the floor. Arabella dies in Caelor’s arms, he is heartbroken, but the tradition will continue.

Part 2
Words: 1063

“Princess Arabella of Remaria, do you accept the challenge set before you and consent to your Remarul?” her father, King Moren asked.
Arabella’s throat was dry and the words stuck inside. She needed to agree to the ritual if she wanted to be queen someday. She cleared her throat, the sound reverberating through the courtyard. Every courtier was looking at her, prying inhuman eyes seeming to see down to her very bones. Seeming to see how terrified she was.
“I accept. I will undergo my Remarul for the glory of Remaria and to prepare myself to rule one day.”
“Daughter of Remaria, your one hundred days and one hundred nights commence here.”
Each step she took in her obnoxious pointed shoes clattered like her heartbeat as she walked through the wrought iron gates of the abandoned castle. Knights closed the gates behind her and the court dispersed. She was alone.
Fear closed around her lungs as she wandered further into the castle. The stone walls and floors were cold and unwelcoming. Cobwebs clustered in every direction she looked. Sunlight spilled through the tall arching windows, tinted silver and devoid of warmth.
The building used to be the main royal residence of Remaria, but now they had moved to her home across the sprawling hills of Inslaen. The castle had now been stripped of its royal decorations, bare bones left behind to rot.
As night fell around her, she lost her way around the castle more than once. She was helplessly turned around by the endless corridors. She found what seemed to have been a bedroom and curled up on the floor. It was a far cry from the feather beds she had grown accustomed to, but that was the point of a Remarul.
Separate yourself from the royal wealth to grow in communion with the gods. She wouldn’t even have food or water for the hundred days and hundred nights. Her faerie body would be pushed to its absolute limit by the number. She feared she would fall unconscious by the seventieth day, but for now she had to focus. She had to pray for the gods to bestow a queenly gift upon her, proving herself to all of Remaria.
She found a room with the wooden frame of a bed left behind and began to spend her nights there, still cold and alone in the endless dark.
Days passed, the colour draining as they did. She couldn’t bring herself to do much of anything besides wander through the hallways in solitude and wish for food. Eventually she learned where all the corridors led, so with nothing else to do she walked and walked and walked until her feet felt like they might wilt. She had almost lost track of time as she hollowed out. She supposed that was the point of a Remarul. To deny oneself and grow stronger. She sure didn’t feel stronger.
On a day like all the others, she was feeling exceptionally weak. She could barely bring herself to breathe and her fingers had turned blue long ago. Early morning fog curled outside the windows.
A loud cranking echoed through the castle. The sound of the gate opening. She thought she was on day eighty four, had she truly made it through already? Her heart soared.
“Princess Arabella?” came a voice.
It was supposed to be her father welcoming her out, but the voice sounded younger and strangely familiar. Had she really forgotten her father’s voice in one hundred days? She summoned all the strength she could muster and stood, walking on shaky legs to the gate where she had entered.
No fanfare met her arrival, no courtiers covered the courtyard. A young man stood in the doorway, someone Arabella’s age.
“Caelor?”
He bowed to her. One of the knights who had been a part of her personal guard when she was young and he was too. He was reassigned when he grew too close to her. He was only two years older than her.
“Have the one hundred days and one hundred nights passed?”
“No, Princess. It has been eighty four, but I overheard the King saying how he thinks you will not survive.”
How had he come? She didn’t even have enough mental energy to ask why he felt the need to commit treason just to disprove one of the King’s rumours.
“Nonsense. Look at me. I am quite alright, now leave before the King discovers your treason,” her head was swimming so much she could hardly form the words.
“Quite alright? Then why do you look like you are about to faint? Why is your skin so dull and why are your fingers blue? I haven’t brought much, just some water. Take it, Princess. I implore you, I just want you to survive.”
“I cannot be a righteous Queen of Remaria if I accept your water.”
“You don’t truly believe that, do you? Do you think Remaruls existed before this castle was vacated? Yet your family still sat atop the throne.”
He stepped towards her, bringing the water close. She couldn’t touch him lest her Remarul be invalid. She would never be Queen if she failed. He took another step and she bolted. She knew the castle’s layout, but he was well-fed and a competent guard. With each step, she felt her consciousness fade more and more. She felt faint and everywhere was screaming with pain. With a shout that gave away her position even after she had lost Caelor, she collapsed to the ground.
“Princess!” he yelled.
She didn’t reply.
“Arabella?”
He knelt by her side, pouring the water over her impossibly chilled face and lifting her frail body into his lap.
“Caelor. Thank you for showing me the outside world one more time.”
Her glossy black faerie eyes slipped shut. He felt her heart, but it made no sound. With an inhuman wail, he hugged her closer. There was no reversing what the land had decided to do. With reverence, he set her body down. Remaria had killed her, and yet there would be another Remarul the next year and the year after that. Remaria would forget her name. His name would live on only as the killer of the Princess. The one who dared to oppose the Remarul. He lay next to her, tears mixing with the water. United once more in death.

Part 3
Words: 380

Critique for CD
Find their work here!

Aaah this story was so good! The vibe it gave me overall was like reading an old children’s book where they find their way into a variety of different hopeless situations but always make it out with their friends! Not in a cheesy way, but in a genuine fun and dramatic way. I was pretty scared for Ollie and Charlie! It gives me nostalgic summer vibes, when you would play pranks or cause mischief with friends outside.
I think you could ramp up the drama even more if you wanted to, maybe extending Ollie and Charlie part as the island is shrinking. How they are terrified. Hands shaking. Breaths coming in fast. This could make the rescue by their friends even more relieving and surprising!
I also didn’t know they were setting up fireworks in the start so I was very confused about how they got one in the cave later! I think that’s just because I don’t know how fireworks work, but maybe you could include a line about that in the beginning. Maybe mention how it is Taylor’s birthday (if it is) or how Ollie and Charlie are just always doing things like this.
One more thing that made me a bit confused was how the narrative style seemed more fit to kids towards the start, but by the end we see that they are adults with jobs. It just made me wonder why adults would be sneaking around their friend’s backyard, and why there was a secret cave in said friend’s yard too!
I really liked the part where they are losing hope, you can really feel the emotions. I love all the characters we met and they all felt really real and small-townie (not a word but whatever) in a good way, the way they all knew each other and worked to save their friends!
If I were to nitpick about one thing, it would be when Taylor calls Percy “Persephone.” I know this is her full name, but it just felt a little out of place amid other more common names or with the colloquial setting.
Overall, this story was so good and heartwarming! I loved the characters and all the dialogue, as well as the satisfying ending when the trio saved Ollie and Charlie!

Where do we post stuff to be critiqued?

⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚ Critiquitaire for @sweetcakefamily ⊹₊⟡⋆

WEEKLY TEAMWORK SPEEDRUNNING WITH TILLY! EEEEEE

Only three weeks since that disintegrating shadow had bl3d into dark wisps across the pristine marble floors of the high court, yet Nasia was here again with another anomaly before her.
She closed her eyes. “Oh Sol…we barely survived an attack from some mysterious being weeks ago, and we've bringing a new kind inside?”
“…He's clearly not like them.” Solenne fidgeted. “Maybe the council didn't listen to us the first time, but they'll have to now—we've seen an abnormal being twice, and now two completely different kinds. We could at least try taking this one to the court too.”
Lava of indignation bubbled in Nasia's chest. “I mean, they were pretty bent on gaslighting us when we brought that first one in…”
She turned back to the table. Moonlight streamed from the window across the face of the stranger bound with yards of rope to the dark oak surface. His skin was miles lighter than theirs, scattered with scars and streaks of identical shade to the splotches that painted Solenne's hands and dress from dragging him inside. Nasia couldn't even find the gold markings of their kind anywhere on his features, but the lack of wings on his back stuck out to her the most.
No wings, akin to the outlandish being she and Solenne had brought to the council three weeks ago, yet he wasn't of that kind either.
What was he?

✏ Oooo i love this start! In the first sentence I would add “It had been only three weeks…” to clarify this line better. Solenne is a bit quick to say that the mysterious being is not like the others considering they had only met one previously before him. Other than that, this is great! I like the descriptive language you use!

The stranger stirred, and Solenne gripped Nasia's arm.
“Still don't think we should've brought him inside…quick, help me tighten these ropes.” Nasia dropped to crawl under the table, and Solenne followed.
“I think-”
The ropes fell limp before their fingers reached them, and a perceptible thud sent the girls flying to their feet. Solenne shrieked.
The anomaly was standing.
“I appreciate the caution, but rope can’t do much.”
Flames licked to life as the sisters drew their swords, but the stranger only raised his scarred hands.
“Stay calm, I’m not armed.”
He swayed backwards, but his hands caught the the edge of shelves behind him. “Apologies, I- haven’t quite got my bearings. I can assure you, though…”
He blinked, taking in his audience. Fascination painted his expression, and Nasia stepped ahead of Solenne on instinct when his eyes locked with hers.
“You are…most beautiful. What are you?”
“I would ask the same of you.”
He met Nasia's stone gaze. “You do not know my kind?”
She shook her head.
“Hold on-” His head tilted. “Are you not Vailerke? The ones with wings?”
Solenne’s glance seemed to ask permission from Nasia, and she felt the urge to deny it. Before she could object, Solenne pulled the tassel of her iridescent cloak. The fabric rippled to the ground and crystalline wings sprung from her back. The stranger's jaw dropped.
“…Your kind make these?”
Solenne nodded, eyes softening, and Nasia struggled to hide her scorn at the sparkle on her sister's cheeks.
“Who are you if you know of us?” She retrieved the cloak and shoved it into Solenne's hands.
The being shook from his trance. “My apologies—my name is Tristan, and my kind are known as Aneile.”

✏ Great writing here! My only critique on this section regards this sentence: “Fascination painted his expression, and Nasia stepped ahead of Solenne on instinct when his eyes locked with hers.” It is a little unclear here who Tristan is looking at, I kind of thought it was Nasia at first. Maybe try changing it to something like: “Fascination painted his expression. Out of instinct, Nasia stepped ahead of her sister when his eyes locked with Solenne's” Omg that was not a good rewrite :sobs:, but you get the the point I'm trying to say lol

The workshop door swung open, and Nasia's heart leapt into her throat. Tristan stumbled away at the sight of another flaming sword.
Solenne jumped in front of him. “Papa, don't!”
Papa froze in the doorway. Nasia watched him register the scene and the strange anomaly standing behind his daughter with nerves on edge.
“Stars,” he muttered under his breath. “Nasia, what is this?”
Tristan stepped around Solenne, and the sword raised. “Peace, mister. I am not armed. Aren't you Apprentice Kylo Stellir?”
The sisters locked eyes in shock. Papa's eyebrows raised.
“It depends who's asking.”
“I'm Tristan. Do you know of the Aneile?”
“…Only from folklore. How do you know me?”
“I come for your assistance.” The shadow over Tristan's expression sent shivers down Nasia's spine. “The news I come with is grave.”
He hesitated, eyes flicking to the sisters behind him.
“It's alright, Tristan—anything you tell me, you tell them.”
Tristan nodded. “Aneile are not folklore. We have protected your kind and Skaiyward for centuries, and your lack of awareness tells me everything.”
“Protected us from what?”
He looked back at Solenne. “The Dimlov. Whatever your leaders have told your kind about your entire world is a lie. The Dimlov have been infiltrating your society in waves, and those in your high courts are of that very race, seeking to tear down Skaiyward for the light buried within. Your entire government is corrupted.”

✏ No comments here! I think this a great introduction to the problem! I like how the Vailerke are skeptical and have no context of what is happening. This allowed Tristan to have the upper hand which really ties into the later parts of your story!

Nasia's stomach twisted. She watched Papa step closer.
“And you seek me for what reason?”
“You apprentices are the closest we can get to the Wingsmiths's knowledge of the light the Dimlov are after. What they passed to you is of great importance to our mission. Am I right to believe that you smiths work with the light to create your wings since it keeps you Vailerke alive in Skaiyward? That this light is also within you?”
Papa scratched his head. “…You're not wrong.”
“Then we need your help. Time is short, but more Aneile are arriving for assistance.”
“For what?”
“To travel through the gateways of Skaiyward to the central light, where your highest leaders dwell and plot to take it. As we're not Vailerke, we need you to help us pass the gateways. I know I'm asking of a lot, Apprentice Stellir.”
“If our father is going, so are we,” Solenne piped up.
Nasia's stomach dropped. “We are?”
“No!” Papa's harsh tone made her flinch.
“Papa, you can't leave us here, and you're not going alone.” Solenne tugged her older sister's arm. “Naz, tell him!”
Nasia swallowed. “I…”
“It would only be to the fifth gate,” Tristan pleaded. “And I shall not be the only Aneile there to protect you. I beg you, Stellir—you are the last apprentice, and we can't reach the Wingsmiths. If we fail, Skaiyward will fall.”
The silence was deafening. At last, Papa sheathed his sword, but Nasia read the apprehension in his eyes.
“I will think on it.”
“…You have until the moon reaches the centre. The Aneile are waiting.”
Nasia's gaze flashed to the window. The moon was halfway there.

✏ Niceee! I like how Tristan presents a perfectly believable case to Papa. The skepticism that remains is also great because it shows their reaction to take action is cautious. The only thing here is I was a little bit confused as to why Nasia didn't agree with Solenne in not letting their father go alone if he decided to go. Other than that it's good!

Nasia's blade just pierced through another towering Dimlov when Solenne came flying through the throngs of battles with her own sword drawn.
“Naz, I still haven't seen Tristan.”
Nasia gripped her shoulder at the breathless news and the anxiety in her eyes. “He'll come, Sol.”
“The fifth gate is about to close for the night. If he doesn't…”
Nasia's eyes widened. “Watch out!”
Nasia pushed Solenne and raised her sword to meet the obsidian blade of another Dimlov. The force pushed her to her knees, but Solenne swung her weapon to alleviate the weight.
The shadow engaged with Solenne as more forces flooded their surroundings. Nasia jumped to her feet to fight back to back with her sister.
“We need help!” Solenne shouted over the clashes of steel.
Nasia raised her horn with her free hand and blew a shrill call, continuing to strike the enemies that surrounded them. A cry from Solenne forced her to turn. She was on her knees, clutching her shoulder as milky gold streamed through her fingers.
“Sol!” Nasia swung her blade in an arc that took out both the Dimlov bearing down on Solenne, but the shadows pressed harder.
The Aneile's response horn reached them, but they were still paces away.
“Hey Sunlight, did you miss me?”
Tristan.

✏ I love how Nasia cares for her sister! The only thing I would clarify here is Tristan's sudden appearance. In this case it seems he came out of nowhere quite literally. Maybe have the sister notice some one or feel a presence before just cutting to his line? But besides that, the fighting description is really good!

Undeniable relief flooded Nasia, and she caught Solenne's shining eyes as dazzling light tore through the Dimlov forces around them. Tristan landed amidst them, wielding swords in each hand and making quick work of the shadows until half had fallen. The rest fled but ran straight into the arriving Aneile forces.
“You came…” Solenne's legs buckled, but Tristan caught her, dropping both his swords.
“Your work is done. You should turn back now with your father.”
Solenne's brow furrowed. “But you haven't reached the end—”
“The deal was until the fifth gateway.”
“But if we as Vailerke can't even get through, how will you?”
Tristan scoffed. “If the leaders dwelling there are Dimlov, we're their kryptonite. We can manage.”
“But-”
“Your work is done, Sunlight.” He unbuckled the armour over his shoulder to tear a piece off his tunic underneath. “Besides…I hate to see you like this.”
Solenne’s jaw clenched as he pressed the cloth against her wound.
Nasia knelt beside them. “He's right, Sol.”

✏ The only critique I have here is a tiny nitpick! Your second sentence: “Tristan landed amidst them, wielding swords in each hand and making quick work of the shadows until half had fallen.” is a bit tied on the wording. I would try and clarify it with something like: “Tristan landed among the sisters, wielding his swords and quickly working the shadows until half had fallen.”

A grunt of protest was her only response.
“Sir Tristan?”
They glanced up to see Aneile approaching. “We've held them off, but the gate closes soon. Are you ready?”
Tristan nodded, tying the cloth tightly around Solenne's shoulder before extending a hand. “Let's go find your father.”
She sighed but accepted his hand, then gasped as he lifted her straight into his arms. Her frown broke into a laugh, and Nasia smirked.
One of the Aneile faced her. “Lady Nasia, will you help us locate the gate before you leave?”
“Uh…” Nasia glanced back to Tristan carrying Solenne away.
He turned as if sensing her gaze. “Go ahead! She'll be fine.”
Solenne's face emerged from his shoulder as he faced the path again, and Nasia rolled her eyes at her broad grin and the sparkle in her cheeks.
The pair disappeared, and Nasia followed the Aneile. “So, when does the gate close?”
“When the moon is quarter to the centre of the sky. If-”
A strangled cry rang through the trees, and Nasia's heart stopped.
Solenne.

✏ What a turning point! Great writing, I have no critiques here

Before the Aneile reacted Nasia was flying back to the smoky battlefield, flaming sword ignited.
“Tristan!” She screamed out as she burst into the ancient building, but at once paralysing force seized her limbs. Her sword dropped as she strained to regain control.
Through whatever unseen force that held her, she forced her eyes upwards to scan the hall. Her bl00d froze.
“Tristan!“ Nasia's tone turned from a cry for help to a scream of panic and rage.
Solenne was against the wall, struggling against Tristan's iron grip. His free hand was gloved with a device that glittered a magnificent gold from light that was pouring from Solenne's wounded shoulder. The light she needed to survive.
The stark horror in Solenne's fading eyes pierced Nasia's heart through, but the paralysis wouldn't abate. ”Solenne!“
A flame streaked overhead. Tristan yelled out, collapsing and releasing Solenne who fell limp to the ground. The crimson hilt of a blade protruded from his back.
The field holding Nasia snapped that instant, and she stumbled to her knees as Aneile flooded into the hall, weapons drawn.
”Stand down!”
Tristan scrambled to his feet and dived for the window, but Nasia caught dark wisps spilling from the wound on his back.
Just like the being she took to court eight weeks ago. He was not Aneile.
Her hands shook as she rushed to her sister's side, the Aneile's pursuit after Tristan drowned out by her grief.
“Solenne!” She stifled a sob and pulled the limp girl into her lap. Her wings lay shattered beside them. ”Papa, help!“

✏ OMG. This was unbelievable! Such a great plot-twist! Just one small thing, it is a little confusing who or what injured Tristan. The flame and blade sort of caught me by surprise and I was wondering how?

”You're leaving?“
The small voice sent Nasia straight to Solenne's bedside. ”Sol—yes. I'm going through the fifth gate with the Aneile. That antidote is there, and I'm bringing it back to you.”
Solenne's lip trembled. “But…you didn't want to go.”
Nasia reached to wipe the tears that streamed down Solenne's sunken cheeks. “I'm ready now.”
“I'm sorry, Naz,” she croaked.
Nasia shook her head. “For what?”
“I never should've trusted him.”
The crack in her voice broke Nasia's heart. “We all did.”
“Promise me you'll come back.”
Nasia kissed her sister's forehead.
“Count each sunset, and I'll be back before you reach fifteen.”

✏ Great ending! All is amazing here! Overall, I think you created an awesome story! I'd love to see an addition to this in the future, good job Tilly! <3

✎ 3.16.2026 ~ critiquitaire ❀ ~ 467 words ౨ৎ
⌗ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴀꜰꜰʀᴏɴ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇʙᴏᴏᴋ ⋆˚࿔

↳ Quick! Put your pencil down, stop typing, close your notebook! For today's daily, take a break in the middle of a scene to interview your characters. Pretend they've just been transported to a reality TV show, or that news broadcasters have arrived on the scene and are recording live! Write 500 words questioning them about their motives, feelings, or anything else you can imagine for 700 points, with an extra 50 for sharing proof.

RECORD OF INTERVIEW

Person interviewed: AUGUST WYND
Date of Birth: 2004-11-13
Place of Interview: GARDENIA POLICE STATION
Date of Interview: 2026-03-07

Time commenced: 12:10
Time concluded: 13:41
Duration of Interview: 91 minutes

Interviewing Officers: DC 1412 IAN LILAC
Other Persons Present:


LILAC: This interview is being tape recorded. I am DC 1412 Ian LILAC. I am interviewing August WYND.

LILAC: The date is the 7th of March and the time is 12:10, and the interview is being conducted at Gardenia Police Station.

LILAC: WYND, I am legally required to tell you that this conversation is being electronically recorded. Do I have your consent to do so?

WYND: Yes.

LILAC: WYND, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you can not afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand the rights I have just read to you?

WYND: I do.

LILAC: With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak?

WYND: Yes.

LILAC: Alright then. I’ll start off with some background questions.

LILAC: What is your name, birthdate, age, education, and employment history?

WYND: …My name is August WYND. I am 21 years old, born on November 13th, 2004. I graduated from Lakeview High School, and I am studying for a bachelor's degree in psychology. I work as a convenience store worker part-time, but planned to become a psychiatrist after I get my degree..

LILAC: Thank you for your answers, Mr. WYND.

LILAC: Now, I must ask, you are turning yourself in as The Botanist?

WYND: That’s correct.

LILAC: You do understand the severity of what you are claiming, correct? You are claiming to be a serial killer with about 84 confirmed killed.

WYND: Yes. I understand.

LILAC: With that being said, if you are found guilty, you will be sentenced to 20 years of murder alongside a death penalty. Are you one hundred percent positive you wish to confess to this crime?

WYND: (pause) Yes. I do.

LILAC: I see. Why turn yourself in?

WYND: Because I’m the one who killed them. So I deserve to rot in jail for every single life I took.

WYND: (pause) And if anything…I don’t deserve the mercy of death. I deserve to rot for all of eternity.

LILAC: I see. (sigh) In that case, WYND, I dug up some of your medical files and it claims that you have a severe case of amnesia—making it so you can’t remember anything prior to your accident besides personal details. Is this correct?

WYND: Yeah.

LILAC: So, how is it possible that you’re aware of the fact that you’re the Botanist?

WYND: Well, do you remember the date you saw I got into my accident?

LILAC: I believe it was March 1st?

WYND: Correct. And the day the Botanist stopped killing?

LILAC: (pause) March 1st.

WYND: Precisely.

LILAC: …That proves nothing. Many people lost their memories from accidents that day—so why you?

WYND: I have a receipt for flowers. The same flowers the Botanist left at their crime scenes for the month of February.

LILAC: And you know for sure, this receipt is yours?

WYND: Yes. My credit card number is on it.

LILAC: And this is all the evidence you have?

WYND: (pause) Yeah.

LILAC: (sigh) Jesus.

LILAC: I’m still having trouble wrapping my head around why you’d turn yourself in. If you laid low, you’d be pretty much set.

LILAC: I’m gonna be blunt. I’m skeptical. Your evidence is circumstantial, and people confess to crimes they didn’t commit for attention all the time.

LILAC: So I’ll ask again, why confess?

WYND: Officer, murder is wrong. That is a fact you and I both know.

WYND: I killed people with my bare hands. I cut lives short. Therefore, punishment awaits me.

WYND: It isn’t fair I get away with this scott free. Not after everything I’ve done. It’s not fair.

WYND: I committed the murder, so I deserve punishment. A loss of memory doesn’t absolve me. The fact that I could get away with it doesn’t absolve me.

WYND: I have a conscience. I am simply acknowledging I am a bad person by turning myself in. Surely it isn’t unordinary for a man to feel remorse?

LIlAC: …I see.

LILAC: Is that all you wish to say?

WYND: Yes. It is.

LILAC: Okay WYND. Your case is being reviewed and court dates are pending.

WYND: Thank you.

- END OF RECORDING -

Daily 16

Quick! Put your pencil down, stop typing, close your notebook! For today's daily, take a break in the middle of a scene to interview your characters. Pretend they've just been transported to a reality TV show, or that news broadcasters have arrived on the scene and are recording live! Write 500 words questioning them about their motives, feelings, or anything else you can imagine for 700 points, with an extra 50 for sharing proof.

Host: And welcoming to the show… The cast of Ayla’s newest story, and oh boy, it is a big cast. Introducing… every single cat in the Warrior Cats But They Have Magic Powers Now story!


Host: Since it would take wayyy too long to introduce everyone (since this story has like 50 million characters), we’ll start with the clan leaders!
Host: Our oldest leader, the leader of Skyclan, who, due to plot reasons, now has wings, please welcome, Volestar!

Volestar: Please don’t call me old
Host: Heh. Now Volestar, as the one who has been leader the longest, and in general, in the oldest leader—
Volestar: I told you, don’t call me old
Host: Ahem. Do you have any advice for our other leaders, before I introduce them?
Volestar: Put your clan above all else. You are their leader, remain strong, and help them, however you can.
Host: What wonderful words.
Volestar: Thank you.
Host: Next up, if we’re going in age order, though no where near as old as Volestar, we have the leader of mysterious Shadowclan, Smokestar!

Smokestar (sarcastically): Charmed.
Host: Now Smokestar, you put your brother, Shadeheart, in charge as deputy. Are you really sure that’s a good idea?

Smokestar: What are implying?
Host: Well, are you sure it’s really a good idea to make him deputy, just because he’s your brother—
Smokestar: Well, since I’m in “mysterious Shadowclan”, you’ll never really know, will you?
Host: Well, this is interview show, so—
Smokestar: This discuss is over.
Host: …Okay then! And now, the next leader! The leader of Windclan, who may or may not be in love with Smokestar, we have the wonderful… Grassstar!

Grassstar: Oh, well, thank you!
Host: Do you have anything you’d like to share with our viewers?
Grassstar: Oh, um. I hope you all have a wonderfully day!
Host: And then our second to last leader, we have Finstar, leader of Riverclan!

Finstar: Hi.
Host: Finstar, would you like to tell us a bit about Riverclan’s brand new powers? Since Riverclan and Skyclan are the only ones with visible powers.
Finstar: Oh, uh, sure. So we have fish tails, and we can breath underwater now. I think we have gills.
Host: That’s amazing!
Finstar: Um, thanks.
Host: And now, our youngest leader, the leader of legendary Thunderclan… Lightningstar!

Lightningstar: Thank you, thank you.
Host: Now Lightningstar, some might notice, that your prefix is very similar to that of your clan’s, care to explain?
Lightningstar: Oh, well, I chose my name because of my Thunderclan pride! Plus also, I have lightning stripes on my back, legs, and tail!

Volestar: Hmph
Host: Now, you two have somewhat of a… how do I put this… mutual dislike, don't you?
Volestar: Well, I just wish that SOMEONE would do more to respect their elders
Lightningstar: Maybe YOU should respect ME more! Us young people are the future, anyway!
Volestar: The future doesn’t mean that the past isn’t important!
Lightningstar: I’ll show YOU who’s important, old man!
Volestar: You mouse-hearted little—

Grassstar: There they go again
Smokestar: Ugh, it’s like this every gathering.
Finstar: Should we do something, or—
Host (nervously): And that is all the time we have for today—
Cloudkit: Wait I didn’t get to say anything!
Gentlekit: Me too! I wanna talk!
Sparrowglade: I’m here too. I’m from Thunderclan
Stormtalon: Me too. I’m Lightningstar’s sister
Cloudysky: I’m their mom
Cloudkit: Hey we almost have the same name!
Shadeheart: Um, I’m here. I’m the Shadowclan deputy
Nightpaw: How does any of this work what is going on we are surrounded by twolegs why am I the only one panicking about this—
Bluebirdwing: Hey everyone! Volestar’s my mate!
Petalsky, Woodsong, Lavendermist, Butterflyshine, and Finchheart: We’re his kids
Woodsong: I’m Skyclan’s medicine cat
Mistleaf: As am I
Woodsong: She’s the sweetest
Mistleaf: I am not
Woodsong: You are <3

Spiderpaw: Hey!
Skunkpaw: Hiii!
Foxpaw: Hello!
Finstar: Wait shouldn’t the other clans get to talk about their powers some—
Grassstar: Hey wait I barely got to talk, I’m actually a really cool person—
Host: Okay seriously cut!
Gentlekit: Wait we barely even got to taaaaaaaaalllkkk—


736 words

critique for weekly || 1073 words

Alfalfa78 wrote:

The familiar squeak of the hinges greeted Lilac as she opened the door to her apartment. With a quiet sigh, she let the door shut behind her, and the hinges squeaked quietly again.

Here I just wanted to point out that you used the word “quiet” twice in rapid succession — to mix things up, trying using a synonym for one of them, or choosing one to cut if you can't decide on a good substitute.

That sound was really beginning to get on her nerves, but she was just too tired to care at this point. All she wanted to do was to check on her brother and then sleep for as long as possible before having to go back to work all over again.

I promise I won't give in to the temptation of nitpicking but I couldn't help this one instance *cough* “just” is what I consider a “filler” word since it rarely adds anything to a sentence unless used in specific context; a good exercise to do for any writing is to look for all the places you use words like “just” and see if you can cut or change them without messing up the sentence. If you can, it'll probably be tighter and flow better. If not, you can probably keep it without the world ending lol. Even filler words have their uses… sometimes. (I say grudgingly, because even I can't get away with never using the word “just”). Okay, anyways, moving on!

She kicked off her shoes by the door, hastily untying her apron. Quietly, she shuffled towards her younger brother’s room, tossing her apron onto the couch, along with her hat.

Good visual moment here, flows well. I would point out the word “quietly” here again, but other than this is working well!

For a moment, she stopped outside her brother’s door, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. When she opened them, she forced a small smile onto her face, hoping it’d hide her exhaustion. It never seemed to work though, seeing he always noticed.

Quick break here to note that the flow of a story often relies heavily on punctuation, at least for me! When I notice punctuation that feels out of place it jerks me out of the story, which can make it difficult for me to engage if there are multiple instances. Don't worry, your punctuation is working pretty well for the most part — there are just a couple instances where you could smooth some things out, such as the comma after “though.” Commas can be tricky, but generally, in instances like this, you either want to “mirror” them or cut them entirely. Since you can't cut it without butchering the grammar in this case, you want to “mirror” it by putting another comma after “work.”

“… hey, Isiah?” she asked, easing the door open. Light from the hallway flooded through the opening of the door, revealing his relatively clean room. Some school books were in a precarious stack that was threatening to fall over. His clothes from the day were half falling out of his open hamper, barely in the hamper itself.

As she continued to ease the door open, the light landed on a sleeping Isiah’s face. Lilac froze. He was partially propped up on his pillows, a book still in his hands, head leaning uncomfortably on the bedrest.

The dim realization that he must have been waiting for her to get home hit her. Her expression softened and a smile touched her face. Carefully, she slipped into his room, taking the book from his hands and pulling a blanket up to his chin.

“Night, bud,” she whispered, voice barely audible. Somewhere, she felt bad that he hadn’t been able to say goodnight. But he needed his rest as much as she did. Especially when her boss had her working overtime for the third time that week.

As she straightened, she glanced down at the book in her hands. As The Legends Went. It was his favorite book ever since he was a little kid.

Good flow here! The sequence of opening the door — seeing his room — seeing him — saying goodnight has a good rhythm, and each beat is tight and slides into the next one smoothly.

The one all about the portals that supposedly whisked people away in the night, sending them to faraway and strange worlds, rarely returning to their own. The one he begged her to read to him every night when they were younger. The one she memorized for him because the words on the page would get jumbled and blend together when she tried to read it.

As a quick note here, the word “them” needs to be inserted after “rarely,” to be consistent with the structure of the rest of the sentence.

She shook her head, placing the book on the nightstand as she started to leave. They were just stories, she thought, glancing back at her brother for a moment. Meant to explain disappearances back in the day, and meant to entertain children’s fantasies now. The door shut behind were with a near silent click. Nothing more, nothing less.

With a deeper sigh, she shuffled to her room, sprawling on her bed. She could change in a minute; she just needed a moment. She knew why he liked those stories so much. They were an escape.

She couldn’t blame him for it. Not when she wanted her own.

But she had seen far too much of the world to know that was possible.

It was nice to dream, though.

And this is a good way to wrap up this section of the story! Reading this first half, I do have some questions about the story. How old is her brother? He seems to be old enough to be left home alone, given what the rest of the story implies, but his exact age is unclear, as the description of his room and the way he fell asleep implies a vulnerability I associate with younger children. I would guess him to be 10-12, just based on context clues, so if that's what you were intending, great! If not, it's not necessary to ever explicitly state his age, but slightly clearer clues can be worked in to give the reader a more solid foundation. I would advise that you take this with a grain of salt, though, because I think I might hyper-fixate a little on character ages, so it's entirely possible that literally no one would notice the things I did LOL.
My second question would be how long they've been living like this — are they orphaned? Is there a reason they're apparently living on their own? (I only focused on the story portion of your weekly, so it's entirely possible that you answered some of my questions in the outline, but given that most of your readers wouldn't be able to see the outline if you shared the story without it, it's important to have all the context present in the story itself.) This question doesn't have to be answered outright, but hinting at it can give your reader a better feel for the story.

Lilac woke up with a start. Had she set her alarm? What time was it? Bleary eyes took a moment to focus and when they did, she froze. A cream-colored wall greeted her, instead of the pale peeling yellow of her room.

She looked around. A long hallway of walls the same color stretched endlessly on either side of her. Pillars dotted the hall periodically, reaching up to the tall ceiling. Even from where she was sitting, she could see the details etched into the stone. But the strangest thing of all were the grand doors behind her.

They almost reminded her of the grand doorway from the legends.

She blinked. A chuckle escaped her. Those stories were getting into her head, she guessed as she stood. Enough so that she was dreaming about them. Her blue eyes dropped to her hands as she fisted them, and then stretched out her fingers, counting them. Ten fingers.

Good transition here! My one note here would be that while it's always nice to know what a character looks like, introducing the detail of her eye color here feels jarring. Generally, my rule of thumb for working character descriptions into writing is to do it in such a way that your reader can take away a picture of the character without having it hammered into their head. Inserting them randomly can disrupt the flow of your story, especially when there's been no prior mention of how the character looks.

She counted them again, waiting for the number to inevitably change or shift. But no, she counted ten again. She shouldn’t have counted ten. Why had…?

“Weird,” she said aloud, glancing up at the door before her. If she was dreaming… it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek, would it?

The door didn’t give as much resistance as she always thought it would. It was eerily lightweight for a door of its size. Though, this was just a dream. She wouldn’t expect a door to have weight in a dream.

Quick thing here! I'd replace the word “though” with something like “of course.”

But her ruminating on the door was interrupted by the sight behind it. A portal, hovering a foot or so off the ground. It swirled with green and yellow, pulsing faintly at the edges as it cast a soft glow around it.

A small smile tugged at Lilac’s lips as she laughed quietly. The legends really were getting into her head, weren’t they? Slowly, carefully, she stepped toward the portal, her quiet footsteps echoing in the room a lot louder than she thought they should. Maybe if she wasn’t so distracted by the fact that there was a portal in the middle of the room, she would’ve thought about it more.

Right as she approached the portal, the green and yellow turned to a bright azure, and everything in the room shifted. Pleasant yellow became icy blue and she realized someone was standing behind her.

She started to turn, but was far too late. Someone shoved her forward, straight into the portal as it shifted again. Bright amethyst purple reflecting off dark armor was the last thing she saw before purple swallowed her vision whole.

OOH very mysterious! Okay, notes on this section: first of all, the waking up sequence is well done! Her decision to explore feels natural and leads into the next part of the story. Really, my only suggestion here would be to stick a little closer to Lilac. Right now, there are some comments that stray more into an omniscient point of view (such as the aside that she would notice the sounds were strange if she was paying more attention) — keeping your storytelling “camera” zoomed in tightly on your character will help let the reader experience the story right alongside her.

Lilac woke up in a cold sweat, falling from her bed onto the ground beneath. “What was that?” she whispered to herself, brushing hair out of her face. Whoever that person was, it was terrifying. Something that only her imagination could create.

Her hand dropped back to the ground and brushed against grass. Grass. Why was there grass? There shouldn’t be grass in her room. Her eyes darted up, and saw the clear blue sky above, clouds streaked across it with a warm sun smiling down on her.

She didn’t feel very warm upon seeing it. She felt less warm when a voice startled her.

“Uh, hey there,” the voice greeted hesitantly. “Are you alright?”

Lilac turned, and saw a young man, maybe in his twenties, standing behind her. “… no,” she answered honestly, after a moment.

“Oh,” he chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, that… that’s pretty common around here.”

“What?” she asked, frowning.

He blinked, giving her an equally awkward smile. “It’d be easier to explain in town, I think.”

Normally, Lilac would probably question it a little bit more. But seeing as she ended up in the literal middle of nowhere, she didn’t feel like she had many more options. “Okay…?”


“… what?” was all Lilac could say after the stranger – Alistair, he said – explained everything to her. “I’m… I’m stuck?” she asked, voice flatter than she expected it to be.

“Well,” Alistair started. “There’s… there’s this book, very old, very ancient. It holds information on how to get back to your own world. But it’s locked away in this museum. And—"

“—so, I can get back?” she asked, and he nodded after a beat. “Then that’s what I’ll do, then,” she said. She had to get back. For Isiah.

Okay, time for overall thoughts! First, I will say that this ending feels a little abrupt, and without context it doesn't make very much sense. I can gather that she was somehow transported to the world in the fantasy book her brother liked, but although writing explanations can be difficult to do without feeling too heavy-handed (and boring and hard to boot), they're often necessary to keep your reader in the know. The good news is, you don't have write out an entire dialogue with zero action or detail to do that. Summarize, or write dialogue interspersed with something the characters are doing, like walking. Or come up with an entirely new trick. If you can get the point across without either drowning your reader in exposition or dehydrating them with a lack of context, congratulations, you've succeeded! My advice would be to play around with it and find what method of incorporation works best for you.
The story flowed pretty well for me, with clear sequences and good transitions. You kept a good balance of description, dialogue (yes, inner dialogue counts!), and action throughout the story, and although the ending felt rushed, I was able to get a loose sense for what had happened. This is a strong draft, and with some revision, I think you're in a good position to polish it into something really compelling! I enjoyed reading it a lot, and I would absolutely read more about these characters. Thank you so much for letting me critique your story, and I hope you have a great day! <3