15 June Week 4 - Back to the future

A few days ago, were the weirdest days in my life. One day I was helping mum in the restaurant, the next day I was in an unknown world made from pixels. I wondered how I got into this mess. I looked around and saw everything had changed except my moon pendant. "Could this be the answer to this mystery?" I asked myself. I did experiments with the moon pendant in my free time until I was sure that this was what triggered me into the unknown world. The moon pendant was passed down from my Great-Great-Great Grandfather who found this when he was looking for gold near the rivers. Then another question came into my mind" Why was it a pixel world? “I thought. Then the answer came into my head I was seeing pictures of a video game that I was playing that other day." Whatever I think of when this moon pendant is on it will come true", I explained. It was quite a case for me because this does not happen every day. “Where on Earth am I?” I screamed as I was floating on a cold body of water. The freezing water took hold of me. I slowly opened my eyes to see a square sun. “What, how, how?” I spoke confused. “There can’t be a square sun in any universe can there”, I continued speaking. I turned around to look at the dense jungle that surrounds the swift creek. Everything was square even the flowers on the boxy trees. “Hey, hey you. What are you doing down there?” a voice out of nowhere came. “Get out, get out,” said the voice again. I quickly reacted with an intense scream. “Hey come on we haven’t got all day”, it replied. …

Oil Lamp As Arabelle reached out her shaky but plump hand, she began to shiver like a flickering flame of a burning candle. Arabelle Alden was in the basement of her parents’ house, the wooden floorboards groaning under the weight of the Alden family’s collection of artefacts her family had owned for generations. She crawled and scrambled her way through the musty and oppressive obstacle course, panting as if she were a dog, her hands enshrouded in grime and dust. Black and white images suddenly flashed in front of her. A man in a sailor’s attire. His face looking uncannily like her own. His portly figure bent low over a map, his greasy hawked nose almost touching the parchment. A quill pen and an ink pot. A dim oil lamp illuminating the room panelled with wooden planks. Out of the corner of her eyes, Arabelle noticed a faint glisten pulsing like heartbeat amid all the family treasures. She held out her hand, fumbling for the source of light. A lamp. An oil lamp. Cracked glass surrounded the weary wick inside. It let off a bubbling sound, the smell of an ever-burning campfire, sweet and reminiscent of days with her grandpa roasting marshmallows. She remembered her grandpa telling her about his father- Joseph Alden, Arabelle’s great grandpa. Her grandpa said that he was lost at sea, his body not found to that day. He was a famous explorer back when grandpa was still a teenager, and great grandpa’s name appeared all over newspaper articles. The only memory of his existence was a cracked oil lamp. ‘Only a true Alden ancestor shall unlock the real story. Those who do not have the courage, the bravery, shall not be granted permission. You are the chosen one.’ A deep grand voice suddenly echoed in Arabelle’s ears. Tingling, a weird sensation enveloped her. She shivered. A flash of light sent her out of consciousness. Thump. Thump. Clip-clop. Clip-clop. She found herself on a ship. Her brain was still rattling in her skull, bewildered as to what to do. A strong gust of wind whipped. Her thick golden locks swayed in the turbulent wind as the sails ruffled. A grey blanket of fog wrapped around her. Gripping the railing, she panted in and out the salty ocean spray, her light complexion paling further. She gazed at the boots thumping on the wooden deck. The smell of rotten fish made her dizzy, pipe smoke adding to her confusion. ‘All hands on deck!’ a husky voice groaned over the kerfuffle as a man donned a buttoned blue jacket over a dirtied white shirt and knee length pants. ‘Yes, sir!’ Mingled voices roared. Deckhands in ‘apple pasty’ shaped hats and petticoat breeches began hauling ropes. A smorgasbord of thoughts dashed through Arabelle’s head. She had never physically seen this scene except in films. Was she starring in a movie? Footsteps scuffled the odorous wood. The noise was overwhelming, as shrill as a whistle. Her heart beat like a rollercoaster. Tingles in Arabelle’s hands spread like a fire in her body. At last, Arabelle was able to move. Rickety, she climbed down the ladder to the lower deck. She noticed newspaper was strewn across a wooden table. ‘7th of August, 1879’, one newspaper read, another with ‘14th June, 1879’ as the date. ‘1879?’ gawked Arabelle, her hands cupping her gaping mouth, eyebrows raised. ‘Just one minute ago, it was 2022!’ ‘Of course, it’s 1879! Have you lost your mind?’ a deep voice bellowed, a middle-aged man’s head peeking out of the open cabin door. ‘Wait, who are you?’ ‘Arabelle, sir.’ Making a pitying face, she responded, pleading for him not to shout at her. ‘Walk the plank!’ The man’s gold-rimmed glasses slid down his protruding nose bridge, as he let out an ear-deafening order. Arabelle, unsure of what it meant, stuttered ‘I t-t-touched something belonging to Joseph Alden. Something reflective and bright. C-c-can’t remember.’ Instantly, like a conjuration, the man’s personality switched like a world record javelin throw. Calmly, he spoke in a gentle voice. ‘Arabelle, I’m Captain Joseph, the captain of HMS Gale. I’m not sure what has brought you here, but enjoy your stay in the nineteenth century.’ Wandering around, unsure of what to do next, Arabelle began to precisely observe the ship’s build. Nuts and bolts screwed wooden planks together in intricate hugs. Bundled up hammocks were hung on the walls. A kettle was in the centre of a mess table. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. Plunk. Cautiously, Arabelle turned around. The sound did not project from the kettle. So where was the eerie noise coming from? Lacerating water gushed in through an open porthole, soaking Arabelle’s brand new mary janes in wintry water, making her freeze. ‘Captain, batten down the hatches!’ Arabelle bellowed, voice competing with the gale wind. Immediately, Captain Joseph strutted out and climbed up the stairs, holding a cracked lamp. Like a mouse eager to help, Arabelle quickly followed. Up on the deck, the lightning split emblazoned the sky. The barque heaved and tossed in the rising murky swell as the rain-shroud passed by, hissing its tears. The masts creaked eerily, snapping in half and scattering across the deck. Muffled screams ricocheted through the storm barrier around them. The ship, a battling soldier, swayed. Little by little, the grand ship, now a meek mouse, was parallel to the choppy ocean attacks. The storm was a raging monster. It was all in one go. The growling sea, the stinging feeling of salt in Arabelle’s eyes, the dry burning sensation of salt down her throat. Splattering on impact, Arabelle curled into a ball, now in the indignant army of deep blue. Flailing her arms, she paddled furiously, willing to stay alive. The captain, in his drenched uniform, was also gasping. To the right, a warm glowing sensation emanated in the pitch black. Instinctively, Arabelle swam towards it, hoping it could giver her some relief from the unbearable cold. Her hand brushed against a smooth scorching hot object, and what happened next, she could not comprehend. She held onto a floating lamp. The whole world reversed. Captain Joseph began swimming backwards, as did all the sailors. Everyone was flung back on board. ‘Thank you, Arabelle,’ Captain Joseph shoved Arabelle in front of all the sailors. ‘You have saved us all, but it is too dangerous for you to stay.’ ‘I n-need to get back to the twenty-first century,’ Arabelle echoed. The whole crowd gaped, but Captain Joseph knew what Arabelle was talking about. Tapping his oil lamp three times, he said ‘14 Groven Way, Philida’, Arabelle’s exact address. ‘I am Joseph Alden, your great grandad! My son, your grandad, uncannily resembles you. Go home now. Tell your parents how you met me.’ Obediently, Arabelle reached her hand out. The world spun around her. Back in the basement of her house, she realised all the modern comforts of the twenty-first century: electricity, gas, lifeboats… She was glad to be back. Yet, she was also glad to meet her great grandad. A final sentence, whispered in her head, from Captain Joseph said, ‘It was merely the dizziness from travelling back to your own realm and time. Don’t worry. I would protect you.’

Gramophone Prologue Watching her trouble strewn face sent tears shooting from my eyes. Her eyes were shut, spasms sometimes shook through her body. Blazing red locks engulfed the pillow, deathly white spread over her face and black lashes fringed her eyelid like coral on a reef. Clutching her almost cold and limp hand, I watched her gradually fall from me, giving her a hug I felt as if another part of me had been slowly ripped out. “Be strong girl, even if you are different don’t shy away but stand up, make me proud. Go find a place in this world.” She whispered. I drew away and she offered me a smile and then she was gone. Realisation hit me. I had no one but my grandma. A dead mother, a run away father, no siblings and one grandmother. One grandma Part 1 Jazz music swung and danced through the house. I couldn't help swaying to the sound, jazz vibes pulsing through me. I loved jazz music, I felt in my own world, travelling back in time to the jazz era in scotland 1918. Gram sashayed and shimmied into the room, her old eyes not foggy grey but blue. Intense blue but filled with happiness. Gram brought me to the world of jazz music, her old skinny legs prancing beneath her in time with the music. “Elaine, Elaine, Elaine” she shook her head in disapproval as I tried to sashay. Tripping over my feet I belly-flopped onto the rug. Grinning with humour at my near failure, Gram using her unknown old granny strength hauled me up off the ground. Insisting I try again. Fear sparked in my eyes as Mila stood over me, her arms akimbo. “You little rat,” She snarled, her piercing black eyes shooting spears at me. Smashing insulting comments straight at me we both knew I hadn’t done anything wrong. Just because I was shy, just because I had no friends and just because I had no one except my grandma. Blocking my ears to the flurry of sounds and slamming a door on the discouraging remarks. My kindergarten teacher had crushed all of the confidence and creativity in me. I had come to school with a picture of an orange sky, red grass, pink trees and rainbow birds. I was proud of my drawing and in the phrase “trees are green not pink, grass is green not red, birds are one colour instead of multiple and the sky is blue,” my teacher had half heartedly spluttered with laughter, she had wiped all those dreams away. (p.s)Sorry I didn't get to finish.

To My Heart I Must Be True - Final-er Draft 5826 Words :D - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Content warning: period-typical homophobia and transphobia (villains, not any main characters), violence, gender dysphoria, very vaguely implied use of slurs (cut off after the first letter), mourning, misgendering (accidentally by the characters) Songs referenced (in order): ‘You’re The One That I Want’ by John Travolta and Olivia Newton-John (From Grease), ‘Ode to a Gym Teacher’ by Meg Christian (and/or the cover by Samantha Cunha), and ‘Glad to Be Gay’ by Tom Robinson. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Dedicated to everyone who’s been in an awkward situation and didn’t know what to say or how to express yourself. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Hannah moaned, squeezing her eyelids against the too-bright light assaulting her brain. She turned over a little bit, making her stomach lurch. “He's awake!” Hannah’s groans reached a crescendo and she peeked through her lashes. Leaning in front of her were four teenagers, like her; a girl with fiery hair, a boy with impressive sideburns, a young woman in overalls and a paisley shirt and a girl with freckles spattered across her face. Their figures blurred as tears filled her eyes. “Easy, there,” freckle girl said, “You’ve had quite a fall,” Two of them grabbed Hannah’s arms and hauled her up, only for her to stumble again. Her mouth hit the ground and she tasted the grass of Whitlam Park. No grass tastes nearly as good, she thought dreamily. She looked up at the statue of Ceeny the thylacine, but it wasn’t there. Eh. Her head felt so fuzzy that she probably wouldn’t know what direction she was facing. She slowly spun around on her hands and knees, trying to spot it. It wasn’t there. She frowned, both to think and to block out the sun. The statue was constructed a couple of years ago to commemorate the death of the last Tasmanian tiger. She screwed her eyes shut, and then opened them wide. “Great Scott,” Hannah murmured. Then she fell face first into the ground again. On Monday afternoons, Hannah was usually looked after by her Aunty Jennifer. Her aunt didn’t know, of course. Nobody knew. This wasn’t just any Monday, however. This Monday was the twentieth of June, the time of year when her aunt reminisced about her old lover and was lost in thoughts of what could have been. “You would’ve loved Arty, Ethan,” she told her ‘nephew’, “Arty loved sports and the outdoors, just like you. You’d never meet anyone as gentle, kind, spirited, compassionate…” “Where is he now?” Hannah asked, and Aunty Jennifer’s eyes crinkled and she let out a sad little laugh. “Arty left with the rest of my friends to find opportunities elsewhere,” she sighed, mouth curled in a bittersweet smile, “It was around this time of year, actually. Nothing has ever been the same since they left…” “Since you lost your true love,” Hannah finished forlornly. “Yes…” Aunty Jennifer looked straight ahead, her gaze unfocused. Maybe part of her was still watching her friends walk away. When Hannah came to, she was on the bench in Whitlam Park with four concerned faces hovering over her. She ran a hand over the back of the bench and found that, indeed, the plaque dedicated to her best friend’s great-uncle who died when they were in year one was missing. “How’re you feeling?” one of the people around her asked gently. Their face resolved into a particular someone’s but who how why because why not but isn’t this the past yet of course she’s here it’s the past and are those her friends? “The tiger…?” Hannah slurred, weakly lifting a hand to clamp on her eyes because the world was too bright. “What’s your name?” another voice trepidatiously queried. “Hannah,” she mumbled after a couple of seconds. “And I called you a boy earlier!” the same voice cried, sounding horrified, “Gosh, I’m really sorry!” “Y-Yveltal,” she murmured a moment later. Then she tried to get up, only to get held down on the bench by four sets of hands. “We’re going to take you to my dad, okay? He’s a doctor,” someone said soothingly. “Social distancinnnn…” she mumbled, turning away slightly. “What’s she saying?” “I don’t know,” “To Arty’s house!” “One… Two… Three… LIFT!” She was gently pulled off the chair and felt arms on her shoulders and back, guiding her somewhere. Her heart beat to the pounding of her head and she wobbled a thousand metres toward a chair to slump on. “Hey Ethan!” her mum smiled at her, ignorant to the shiver of dysphoria her daughter felt when she was called that name, “How was school?” “Good,” she answered, wearing a grin that didn’t quite meet her eyes, “I played cricket with my friends, but the brownies ran out at the cafe,” Mum’s eyes lit up. “About cricket - I was talking to some other parents and they recommended this cricket club. It’s at the oval on Thursday after school with other boys your age,” Hannah’s throat closed off as she looked at the pamphlet Mum gave her. Blue and red, scenes of action and victory and sweaty boys with their arms around each other in a show of friendship. ‘Leaping ’Roos Boys’ Cricket Club’. “I’ll give it a try,” she forced out, “Thanks, Mum,” “I know you’ll do great, darling,” Hannah’s mum said, ruffling her short, scruffy hair that she wished she could grow and plait. Hannah pushed down all of the desires she felt that society deemed ‘feminine’ and smiled. Forty-four years in the past, the same girl stared out of a window, watching the boxy cars go by. Hannah was still healing from the mild concussion she woke up with half a week ago. She was staying at one of her Aunty’s old friend’s house and wasn’t allowed to do much while she recovered. Every day, Arty looked after her. It was fortunate since she had a lot of things to wrap her head around after waking up in 1978, and her head wasn’t in the best condition right now. One of the things she had to wrap her head around was Arty ‘him’self. “Hi,” Freckle Girl had quietly said as she opened the door to the room where Hannah woke up. She was carrying a cup of water which Hannah happily tried to accept before realising that her hands were probably too clumsy to consider it. Freckle Girl put it on top of a small cupboard next to the bed Hannah was on and slipped a straw inside. Hannah wriggled over and sipped at it. “My name is Artemis,” the young woman previously known as Freckle Girl introduced herself, “But all my friends call me Arty. Your name is Hannah, right?” “YeahooooOOOOOOOHH,” Hannah began before realising. “Uh oh. Umm, Dad!” Arty called over her shoulder. Hannah cursed heteronormativity and lack of representation and herself for not realising that Aunty Jennifer never said that her true love was a man as Arty’s dad came over to check if Hannah had a headache or was feeling dizzy. She was feeling dizzy, but it was less of a the world is spinning dizziness and more of a the world as I knew it was a lie dizziness. A couple of days later, Arty’s friends came to meet the girl who had apparently fallen from a tree in Whitlam Park. Hannah could now recognise the young woman who’d been in overalls as her Aunty Jennifer, but she was meeting the other two for the first time. “My name’s Lori,” Fiery Hair Girl greeted, smiling, “Sorry for mistaking you for a boy earlier,” “That’s okay,” Hannah said, “I… It’s not the first time that’s happened,” Lori grinned apologetically and Sideburns Guy stepped forward vivaciously. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, ma’am,” he bowed, offering his hand, “This humble gentleman that you see before you is called Jim. You are the fair Hannah, I presume?” “I am indeed,” Hannah grinned, shaking his hand. “And JIM is melodramatic,” Aunty Jennifer shoved past him jokingly and they shared a smile as she moved next to Arty. “My name’s Jenny,” Hannah politely nodded. It was odd seeing her usually serene aunt as a lively teenager. “Do you know where you are?” Jenny asked. “Kangaroo Paw, just outside of Sydney,” Hannah answered almost immediately. Her head wasn’t completely better, but it had greatly improved since earlier this week. “Excellent. Do you live here?” “Y… Yes. I do,” Hannah hesitated a bit. She wasn’t sure how much she wanted to tell them. “Where’s your house? Your parents are probably worried sick!” There it was. Hannah swallowed and thought as much as her sore brain could. “Umm… Not- Not really,” she carefully said, watching her aunt’s already concerned friends from the past grow even more worried. “Were you kicked out?” Jim asked. His eyebrows were scrunched and so high up that they almost disappeared into his hair. “Sorry- it’s none of my business,” “Yeah, kind of. I was kicked out of my time,” Hannah explained, watching four people reach the wrong conclusion. It was kind of funny watching them awkwardly look at each other, trying to figure out what was tactful enough to say. Hannah almost let them carry on, but she’d been in a few too many scenarios like this. She decided to spare them. “I’m from 2022,” she clarified a little, giving it time to sink in. “R-really?” Lori said in a high-pitched voice. “Yes,” Hannah confirmed before continuing, “I don’t know how or why I time travelled, though,” They all sat in silence for a while. “Can you prove it?” Jenny asked quietly. “I think I can, Jennifer Anderson,” Hannah purred. Her quiet words carried across the whole room. “You were raised in Kangaroo Paw and haven’t ever known another home. Your favourite cardigan was handwoven by your true love, whose name is Arty, for your fifteenth birthday, which was in April. In fact, you’re wearing it right now,” The four teenagers from 1978 looked at the girl from the future and gulped. The cricket club session passed in a blur of “You can do it, man!”s and “Let’s go, boys!”s. Before Hannah knew it, she was walking through the oval’s gate and into her dad’s arms. “How’d it go, my bo- Ethan? Are you okay?” Hannah stayed silent, just like she had every time she was grouped with ‘the boys’ and when the coach had said “Way to go, dude!” when she hit the ball right over the bowler’s head. She couldn’t count how many times she’d been misgendered in that afternoon alone. “Cricket didn‘t go well, I think,” Dad said to Mum when they got home and Hannah had plodded despondently to her room. Her mum murmured something in response. Hannah couldn’t really hear. Didn’t matter. She opened her Pokémon school bag and rummaged around until she found her recent health assignment before remembering what it was. ‘Identity and the Impact of Support’ She flung the paper in the general direction of her bag and started doing maths instead. She had just finished the exercises on the gradient formula when her mum softly knocked on the door. “Come in,” Hannah said, sounding neutral. She’d forced the wobble out of her voice when she started revising coordinates. “How are you feeling, darling?” Mum quietly asked as she entered Hannah’s room. “I’m feeling as good as my mountain of homework lets me,” she joked. “Mhmm…” Mum clearly had something on her mind. “Your Dad told me that you didn’t seem very happy after cricket. Can you tell me why?” Hannah searched for words that wouldn’t reveal her secret. “It just seemed too… formal,” she tried. “A-and I didn’t really know anyone. I prefer playing with my friends or my class,” “Fair enough,” Mum nodded, “You don’t have to go to that cricket club if you don’t want to, Ethan,” Mum offered a hug and Hannah leaned into it, pretending that her mum had said her real name, not her dead one. “Meeeeeeeeeeeeeshaa!” Jenny leaned down to lift her little sister into her arms, “My mini Misha, meet your daughter from the future!” “Ooooooooooooooh,” Misha looked at Hannah’s face, “He’s pretty,” Hannah silently swallowed as she smiled at her four-year-old mum. “No, Misha, she’s a she. She might LOOK like a boy, but inside, she feels like a girl,” Jenny explained. “Oh,” Misha blinked, “Okey. Sorry,” “It’s alright,” Hannah grinned, “You know now,” This was the first time she’d ever told anyone that she was a transgender girl. It was incredibly freeing to not have to pretend to be something she wasn’t. “MISHIII!!!!” Lori cried, coming into the room with the rest of Jenny’s friends. “LORRYYYYY!!!” Misha cried, noticing. Misha wriggled out of her big sister’s arms and ran over to Lori. Lori knelt so they could bump wrists. Hannah noticed that they were wearing matching friendship bracelets. “Heyyyyy Misha,” Arty smiled at Misha, but Misha crossed her arms and turned away. “I don’t wanna talk to YOU,” she huffed. “Why?” Arty asked, eyebrows raised. “You’re taking my big sister and my bestestest friend to that party!” she pouted, “But not meee!” Arty let out a little patient huff and smiled. “It’s a grownup party. It’d be reeeaally boring for a kid like you,” Misha glared suspiciously at her. “But I saw Jim getting dress ups for it! You can’t trick me!” “Alright,” Arty said, “But you still can’t come. It’s way past your bedtime when it starts, and it’s a walking party,” “What’s a walking party?” Misha frowned. “It’s where you’re outside and it’s really cold and you walk for ages and ages,” Jenny explained, looping an arm around Arty’s shoulders. Arty leaned against her gently and put an arm on her back. “You’re right! It does sound boring,” Misha said, sticking her tongue out, “Can you bring me a drink from the party pleeeaase?” Jim burst out laughing and Misha frowned at him. “G-grown up drinks…” he wheezed. “Ohh…” Misha muttered, looking at the ground. “Don’t worry!” Lori piped up, “We’ll find something else for you,” Misha grinned and hugged her, laughing when she was picked up off the ground and swung in a circle. “A party?” Hannah asked Jenny. “Kind of,” Jenny shrugged, “More of a protest,” “What cause?” “It’s a protest against the harassment of gay people and to show support for gay men and lesbians and allies in San Francisco. They’re fighting a homophobic politician trying to pass a law that would give schools the power to fire teachers that support gay rights or are gay,” Jenny whispered, “Me and my friends are going. It’s tomorrow night,” “What day is it?” Hannah asked, feeling sheepish. Behind her gently smiling face, her mind was running at a thousand kilometres per second. Her aunt’s gay/supportive friends go to an LGBTQIA+ rally and leave Kangaroo Paw in the future. It was around this time of year, actually. “The twenty-fourth of June,” June 24. June 24. The first Saturday of March? Not now. Not in this time. “Where is it going to be?” Hannah said, her pitch slowly rising with her eyebrows. “Do you want to go?” Jenny frowned, “I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. You’re still healing and Arty’s sister barely let us go,” “I would,” Hannah asserted, rolling her shoulders back, “Where is it?” “It’s starting in Taylor Square in Sydney and it’s going to move down Oxford Street,” Jenny answered reluctantly, “It really isn’t a good idea for you to go, not with your injury…” Hannah didn’t want to stay put and be silent. She knew what would happen through hours of searching through incognito browser tabs for affirmation after a particularly dysphoric day. “Please let me go,” Hannah whispered, “I’ve had a week to recover,” Hannah thought about it for a second. “About a week,” she corrected herself, “I think I’ve had about a week,” Arty and Jenny looked at her sceptically. “Dad said it would’ve mostly healed in a week,” Arty muttered, sounding like she didn’t quite believe herself. On Friday Hannah visited her aunty again. Her mum had suggested it after Cricket Club went badly the day before and after she looked at the calendar and noticed an unexpected P&C meeting that was on that afternoon. Aunty Jennifer lived with Hannah’s grandparents in their house, which was a short walk away from Kangaroo Paw High and in the neighbourhood of Whitlam Park, a green space with a bench, a commemorative statue, a Pokéstop and the best-tasting grass in the universe. Hannah’s grandparents were going to Sydney for the week to visit a friend and her mum didn’t want Aunty Jennifer to be alone. “Especially not today,” Her mum had whispered, looking down at Hannah’s half-packed Team Rocket lunchbox. Hannah padded up the low steps to the verandah, rang the old plastic doorbell and unlocked the door. The house was dead silent, the lights were off and most curtains were drawn. She shifted a little and closed the door behind her. Looking around, she kicked her shoes off and started looking for her aunt. The living room was empty. No one sat on the plush leather sofas. The only thing out of place in the dining room was a lukewarm bowl of two-minute noodles with a fork tangled up in it. Nothing in the kitchen. Nobody was upstairs. The last place Hannah checked was Aunty Jennifer’s bedroom. For as long as she could remember, entering an adult’s private space was taboo. That’s why she opened the door by a fraction of a millimetre per second, hardly daring to breathe. Aunty Jennifer was sitting on her bed, hugging her cardigan up to her chest and looking at something in her hands. Hannah crept to quietly stand behind her. “Today,” Aunty Jennifer rasped, “Th-they left,” Hannah’s lips tightened and she swallowed. She knew she should offer comfort in some way, but what should she do? What should she say? What could she say? “T-t-today,” Aunty Jennifer continued, “The twen-ty-for-r-rth of June,” The same day as the first Mardi Gras. Huh. Aunty Jennifer held out what she was holding with shivering fingers so Hannah could peek at it over her shoulder. It was a small framed photo of a younger version of her aunt in overalls with her arm around the most heavily freckled girl Hannah had ever seen. A girl with bright auburn hair that fell in waves around her face had her arms splayed, revealing a woven friendship bracelet on one wrist. A boy stood on the other side of the group, one hand on his waist, the other ruffling his hair. He had very impressive sideburns. They were all grinning and the edges of their figures were slightly blurred, like the picture had been taken mid-laugh. “Was she your best friend?” Hannah murmured, carefully pointing at the freckled girl. This interaction was balancing on a tightrope and Hannah realised a split second too late that she’d just pulled on one side of its balancing pole. Aunty Jennifer let out a wounded keen, desperately clutching the cardigan closer like it was a dying loved one. “I miss her so much,” she whispered hoarsely, “I miss Arty. I miss them all,” “I got chiiiills, they’re multiplyin’,” Arty sang along to the music in her big sister’s car, “And I’m looooooooosin’ contro-oool! ‘Cause the pooooweeeer… You’re supplyin’…. It’s ELECTRIFYIN’!” “You better shape up - do, do, doo, - ‘Cause I need a gaaal…” Jenny sang over the actual lyrics, “And my heart is set on you-ou-ou! You better shape up - do, do, doo - You better understaaa-aa-aaand… To my heart I must be truuuuuuuueeee!” “Nothin’ left, nothin’ left for me to do!” “You’re the one that I want!” they sang together for the chorus. “You are the one I want!” Arty’s sister Debra backed, both hands on the wheel. “Ooh, ooh ooh, honey…!” Hannah bopped along to the song and occasionally joined in singing. Her school had performed Grease a couple of years ago and she’d been a chorus member. Her shoulders slowly relaxed into the seat as she listened. She knew what was going to happen, even more than she had in the ‘future’. She could do this. She knew she could save her aunt’s friends and lover. She knew she could. When she got back to the future - when, not if - she was going to tell her family who she really was. If Aunty Jenny could live through decades of having lost her true love and best friends and being unable to tell anyone the true identity of the person she fell for, Hannah could live through one difficult conversation with her parents. Meeting tiny Misha would make that much easier. Hearing her mum’s past self apologise for misgendering her felt like a hug from a potential future. That Hannah would return to and create. She refused to think of any other possibility. “We’re at the hotel!” Debra called, stopping the car and letting Hannah, Jenny and Arty out. They grabbed suitcases and stepped inside the hotel. Debra strode toward a desk. Hannah had felt relaxed yet apprehensive in the car, but now her legs felt like they could barely support her weight and her mouth felt dry. She looked around warily. “Jim! Lori!” Jenny grinned. The aforementioned teenagers waved back and lugged their suitcases towards the group. “We have six hours to get ready,” Jim said, checking his silvery watch. His hair flipped as he looked up again. “Ready?” Debra echoed with a smile, turning around and waving a room key at them. An hour later, Hannah’s bag vibrated twice. She slid her phone out of it to check her messages, glancing up at Aunty Jennifer. She was slumped on a sofa in the living room, one hand on her cardigan, which was crumpled on her lap. She was gazing out the window with the same odd expression Hannah had noticed on Monday. Hannah’s eyes slid back to her phone’s glowing screen. The first message was from Mum. Meeting’s finished! On my way xoxo The second was from her best friend Jonathan. Want to meet up at Whitlam Park? Hayley brought cricket stuff :) Sounds fun! I’ll ask Mum :))) she replied. In what seemed like no time at all, her mum was there and hugging her. “Hey Ethan! How’re you feeling?” Mum asked with her eyebrows scrunched and a small smile on her face. “Good,” Hannah forced herself to return the smile, “Could I please play cricket with my friends? It’s at Whitlam Park,” “Of course!” Mum allowed, grinning, “As long as you have fun,” Hannah beamed, swung her backpack over one shoulder and sauntered out the door. “You can go on your phone to use that GPS game, but only for a couple of minutes! I want you to SOCIALISE, remember?!” Mum called after her. “Alright,” Hannah said, pretending to feel dejected for a second before smiling. She grinned like a Cheshire Cat as she walked around the corner to her favourite park and her favourite people. “Heyyy Ethan!” Jonathan called. Hannah waved both arms in greeting as she ran into the park. “Ready for cricket?” Sophie asked, holding a cricket ball. She was wearing a gorgeous jumper in rainbow colours and had a new sequin scrunchie keeping her lovely dyed green hair out of her beautiful face. “R-ready,” Hannah smiled, refocusing. She put her bag near her friends’ next to the statue of Ceeny the Thylacine and patted their sun-warmed nose. “Great!” Jonathan cheered, “Dibs first bat!” Hannah grinned as she backed up a bit to be a fielder. This was what cricket was supposed to be in her mind. A bunch of friends playing around, trying to hit the ball as far as they could. “Batter up!” Jo yelled, getting in the right position to bowl, “One, two, THREE!” She bowled it as hard as she could and Crack! Jonathan hit it with equal force. Hannah’s eyes crossed to see the ball. She realised a second too late that it was speeding toward her f- “ETHAN?!” “Oh no,” “I’m re-eally s-sorry! Please g-get up…” “Mate, can you hear us? “Ethan? You okay?” “He’s awake!” “Easy, there. You’ve had quite a fall,” “One… Two… Three… Open your eyes!” Hannah looked up to the mirror and had to remember to breathe. It wasn’t Ethan’s face that gaped back at her. For the first time ever, she saw Hannah. Ethan’s short, spiky mousy brown hair was covered by a wig of smooth chocolate-coloured hair, swept into a long plait that fell over her shoulder. Her lashes had been darkened with mascara and when she winked an eye, she saw a smear of pink over her eyelid. Little painted rose-coloured stars formed constellations across the bridge of her nose. The white and pink of the ball gown she was wearing made her whole ensemble look stunning. She had also thrown a baby blue scarf and gloves on to form the transgender flag, though nobody from 1978 would understand it yet. “That good, huh?” Jim grinned, putting the makeup away. He was wearing a pink beehive hairdo wig with the consistency of fairy floss. It left his impressive sideburns exposed, to the amusement of everyone in the hotel room when he had paraded out of the bathroom. He was barely recognisable. Debra approved. “It’s- It’s absolutely amazing,” Hannah blustered, eyes wide. “We’re lucky that I had a growth spurt after getting this dress and you fit it,” said Jim. He fiddled with a green carnation on his voluptuous dress. “Are you ready yet?” Hannah heard Lori yell from the living room. “Yeah! The lady loves her look!” Jim called jovially back. Lori half opened the door, peeked inside and smiled. “Come on out then,” The others were spectacularly dressed too: Lori wore a gorgeous light purple frock and a bonnet covered in lavenders. Jenny and Arty were wearing purple capes over their day clothes and when they turned around, grinning from ear to ear, two interlocking Venus symbols joined when the edges of their capes touched. “Ready to go?” Debra tilted her head to one side, showing off an intricate tiara artfully made of twisted wire perched on her curly nut brown hair, “And remember, if things go badly, you guys leave as fast as you can. Understand?” “Yep,” The hotel was pretty close to the rendezvous so they walked there. Hannah’s throat felt a bit dry and her legs felt a bit weak. She wondered if Pokémon Go would’ve been tracking her steps if she had her phone. Eventually, they could just follow the sound of music. “…Like a leaf sticks to a tree. One girl who runs the errands, and who chases all the balls.” Hannah heard as their colourful group neared Taylor Square, “One girl who may grow up to be the gayest of all…!” Hannah felt her spirits rise as she danced over to the music and saw the protest. Dozens of people parading, following a truck blasting songs. There was a huge banner being carried that Hannah could only catch a glimpse of before her group joined the march. Debra steered them toward some women her age wearing hot pink lipstick and vests with protest pins scattered on them. Hannah’s heart stuttered as she noticed that she and her little group were some of the only people wearing costumes. “OUT OF THE BARS AND INTO THE STREET!!!” protesters yelled. Hannah gasped, grinning, as she realised that people were poking their heads out of the buildings on Oxford Street. Two men, holding hands, stepped out of a house and joined the march. The next glance Hannah caught of them was of one caressing the back of the other’s head and leaning in close. “Hurry up!” someone yelled, close to the truck. Hannah craned over the crowd and spotted some adults in navy blue uniforms. She inhaled quickly and ducked back down, deciding to focus on the music and the swishing of her dress instead. “SIIIIIING if you’re glad to be gay,” the crowd belted, cheering and whistling, “Sing if you’re happy that way,” “Siiing if you’re glad to be gay,” she breathed, clenching one fist, “Sing if you’re happy that way,” By the time they reached Hyde Park, the march contained hundreds of people in the most fabulous outfits Hannah had seen since secretly bingeing footage of the 2022 Mardi Gras at a stupid hour of the morning. The truck stopped and there were shouts. The uniformed adults had pulled the truck’s door open and were grabbing at something - or someone - inside. A person was harshly tugged out of the driver’s seat. Hannah swallowed, standing on the tips of her toes to see. The truck’s horn blared and it drove off, manned by police. Yells came from the protesters. A couple darted forward and grappled with police, punching and kicking. “TO THE CROSS!!!” one of Debra’s friends shouted. The chant was picked up by the rest of the crowd. They surged as one toward King’s Cross. Hannah lifted her skirt and ran too. Every breath felt ragged. The crowd thinned as they arrived at King’s Cross. Hannah stumbled, buffeted around by the protesters. Her head pounded. Her arm was tugged and twisted around someone else’s. A grim, freckled face stared back at her. People jostled her forward. White van-looking cars were driving by. She felt herself being turned by the crowd. Stern police officers pointed to the left and Hannah was pushed further forward. She couldn’t see them anymore. No matter how hard she tried to turn or walk away, the force of the crowd drove her onward. She could see some protesters at the front reach a fountain that looked like a dandelion clock spraying water. They were talking to the police. The police yelled something back that made them tense. She was pushed along again. Through dazed eyes, she saw adults in uniform blocking the roads. “ROBIN!!” someone shrieked. Hannah realised that it was Debra. One of her friends had been grabbed by the hair and was being pulled into a van. Debra and other nearby protesters that Hannah had never seen before grabbed one of Robin’s arms and tugged her away from the van. The police pulled her other arm right back. They were playing a sick game of tug-of-war. A camera went SNAP. A bottle flew past the heads of the police and shattered in the van. It made them flinch and drop Robin, who scrambled away. Hannah had let go of Arty’s arm and she realised that she couldn’t see her. “Arty?” Jenny gasped, her face in an odd expression that looked painfully familiar, “Arty?! ARTY?!?!” “THERE!!!” Hannah screamed as she spotted a flash of Arty’s purple cape. “ARTY!” Jim called, running over. “G-get OFF me, you-” Lori was being grabbed as well. Hannah dashed over as best she could and yelled “HELP HER!” to the protesters nearby. Several startled and held on to Lori. The police showered down blows with fists and batons, but they held firm and pulled her away. Someone called over taxis and was trying to help Hannah, Lori and younger queer folk toward them. Hannah moved out of the way. Two violet capes were flying back and forth near a van. Their wearers were fighting police. Hannah pulled Jim back. “Go!” she yelled over the din, “There are taxis!” “But-” he gazed worriedly at his friends. “Lori’s over there,” she continued, “You won’t help anyone if you get arrested,” Jim grimaced, nodded and took off in the direction she’d pointed in. Hannah took a big breath and ran to the van like there were hellhounds snapping at her heels. Arty was halfway into the van, being dragged by her hair and wrists. Jenny was screaming and tugging her back by the waist, helped by some men in frocks and fairy wings. “HEEEELP!!!” Hannah cried, holding Arty’s ankle, “WE NEED HEEELL-” She squeaked as she was grabbed from behind. Her wig slipped off and she stumbled backwards. “Stay quiet and stop fighting,” a police officer snarled in her ear, “or I’ll have to respond with for- EEW!” He took his hand off her face, shaking it. She spat on the ground to get the disgusting taste of bigot out of her mouth. “He licked me!” the officer said in disbelief, “That little f-” “GET THE HELL OFF HER!!!” Sequins flashed as Debra flew over like a guardian angel and socked the officer holding her in the jaw. He wobbled for a moment and let go as he slumped to the ground. Debra grabbed Hannah by the hand and dragged her toward the taxis. Hannah spotted Arty and Jenny hovering by one. When they saw Debra approaching with her in tow, they dashed into a taxi. Hannah smiled as she saw the interlocking Venus symbols on the back of their capes join up. She breathed out and felt a harsh tug pull her out of Debra’s grip. Debra turned around, eyes wide and teeth clenched. Hannah shrieked and clawed at whoever held her and felt a cr- “Go AWAY!” “HANNAH!!!” “Get off them, you-” “GIVE HER BACK YOU B-” Hannah slowly peeked her eyes open. The sun was bright, but not too bright. The grass was green and smelled delicious. A statue of a Tasmanian Tiger grinned at her on the other side of the park. Whitlam Park! Hannah shot up and looked around. Her backpack was next to the bench which, when she ran her hand over the back of it, had a plaque dedicated to Jonathan’s great-uncle. She slung her bag over her shoulder, stood, and frowned. Her head felt heavy, but not in a traumatic brain injury way this time. She looked over her shoulder and felt something bump against her back. She tried to touch it and realised. She gently grabbed it and brought it around to the front of her body. Her hair was in a long plait that almost reached her belly button. She flung it around and checked her phone. The latest text from Jonathan read: Hey Hannah! Can’t wait for cricket club on Saturday :DD She gulped and scrambled around in her bag for answers. Crammed in the back where she’d put the Leaping ‘Roos pamphlet was a flyer for ‘Teen Tigers Cricket Club! Teenagers of all genders and experience levels are welcome!’. She smiled at it and its pictures of kids posing with cricket bats, wickets and balls. Carefully, she folded it and put it back, then started to walk away from the park. Five minutes later, she approached the veranda of her grandparent’s house. She heard music and slowed. “If you’re fiiiiiiiilled with affectiiooon you’re too shyyyyyy to conveyeyy, meditaaa-aaaate in my directiiooon, feel your way…” Aunty Jennifer and Aunty Artemis were sharing a bowl of noodles and singing to a familiar song coming from a speaker. “I better shape up, ‘cause you neeeed a gaaal,” Aunty Artemis sang. “I need a gaaal, who can keep me satisfiiii-ii-ied,” Aunty Jennifer replied. “I better shape up, if I’m gonna prooove,” “You’d better prooove,” Aunty Jennifer twirled noodles around her fork, smiling at her true love, “That my faith is justifiiiied,” “Are you sure?” “Yes, I’m sure down deep inside,” they harmonised. They began to sing along to the chorus and they spotted Hannah. Aunty Jennifer grinned and mimed painting stars on her cheeks. Hannah smiled to herself and sheepishly hoped that she had started writing that health essay in this new timeline. Humming, she started walking home.

Three years earlier Lights flickered. Branches rustled. Eyes watched, unseen, as the wind whispered secrets that carried through the forest. Something was afoot, it was clear from the enveloping, echoing silence which seemed to stretch for miles. It was broken only by the hiss of the wind, as if all life had been spirited away from the ethereal wood. Shrouded in an enveloping, midnight blue cloak, a hooded figure moved through the trees. Gnarled branches reached out leafy hands towards this enigma, but their aura of mystery seemed an almost tangible - yet untouchable - thing. They continued to move, striding through the thick, stifling undergrowth as they trod a precarious game trail. Eventually, a clearing came into view. Crystalline, a waterfall rushed down a sheer cliff into the glittering lake far below, which reflected the night sky’s infinite canopy. Pausing a moment to take in the idyllic scene, the figure continued their brisk walk until they reached a narrow ledge in the rock face. Inching carefully along the edge, they reached a fissure in the rock which opened into… A library. Two facing walls were covered in all manner of books with stately cloth and gilt-edged binding, and even the occasional yellowed scroll. Another wall contained a crackling hearth and featured a polished desk of elm littered haphazardly with papers and the occasional stray flask of phial. Instead of a final wall, however, the comfortable cave had a curtain of water - the other side of the waterfall. Not bothering to take in their surroundings, the figure grabbed a book off one of the shelves and flicked through the pages with a sense of urgency until reaching the one they sought. Text in some ancient tongue flowed across the pages of the tome as the cloak-wearer stepped into the centre of the room, murmuring under their breath in an eldritch language. There was a flash of light, and a faint whoosh! Then they were gone… “Come on, slowcoach,” teased the curly-haired boy standing a few metres below her. “We’ll never defeat the orcs if we can’t even make it past one teeny cliff!” Lottie rolled her eyes, judging the distance. Where her brother Jamie had scampered down the rock face like a mountain goat, she preferred the way of caution. Around five metres - not difficult for experienced rock climbers like them, especially given the gentle angle. Still, she tucked her golden hair behind her helmet straps before beginning the climb. It was a nervous habit, and Jamie knew it. “James Watson, Orc Slayer, is about to go official!” “But all the more discerning readers have noticed that Charlotte Watson does all the work. Kind of like Hermione Granger.” She slipped down to join him. “I still beat you here,” Jamie said, smirking. That smirk was wiped right off his face, however, when she noticed the cave. A narrow opening in the cliffside, which they cautiously moved towards. Every time they thought they’d discovered every cave on their family’s enormous estate, they were proved wrong. But this one seemed different. Different in a way which sent tingles running across your skin and ice flooding your veins. Moving as one, the twins slipped through the narrow opening and were stunned to find… a library? “It looks like a wizard’s study,” Jamie mumbled. Lottie nodded, speechless. (Jamie, of course, was never speechless, but rather lost the ability to speak coherently on occasion.) Timidity evident in his posture, Jamie immediately gravitated towards the large desk across the room, where a book lay open, dust motes dancing around pages which had remained untouched for what seemed like years. The words were in Latin - a language which the unfortunate children were quite familiar with, thanks to their overbearing tutor. “Divisio temporis ante me aperta est, et introibo per providentiam.” Lottie whispered the words and felt something, some power, coursing through her. She slipped her hand through her twin’s. “Camelot. Anno DCL. In mense oct- nono? Via sapientium coniungitur infirmis, ut omnes bene faciant.” Jamie added, reading from what seemed to be a handwritten portion. He reached for the book. “The way of the wise is to unite with the weak, that all may prosper? What does that mean? And what about that thing you read before, about time and-” A flash of light. Then they were gone, leaving no trace… Radiant. Light blossomed across every surface like a slow-motion explosion. It was a sweet, pure light, like a star - a star which was going supernova all around him. Images streamed across Jamie’s consciousness: a man with a long grey beard, bent before a simmering cauldron; a hooded figure moving through a wide, cobbled street; a dungeon, heavily barred; a lonely tower rising out of thick trees. They passed too fast for Jamie to register any details, and then he was dissolving, particles of light glimmering around him as if refracted from some unseen prism. All he was aware of was Lottie’s hand, tight around his own. Until the blinding light dimmed, revealing… Looming over them, a castle. Built sturdy and tall, the fortress was grey stone and dark secrets. Imposing spires pierced the sky like steely blades. A sense of dread permeated everything, a foreboding he couldn’t shake. Then came the sound, a rush of clattering and clanging, the sounds of toil and domestic life. But then, unusually, came touch and smell - one bringing the tickle of a gentle breeze and the pressure of his sister’s fingers, the other providing the pungency of grime and dirt. That was highly unusual. His daydreams didn’t usually have an olfactory- “Jamie,” Lottie whispered, “are you seeing this?” That was even stranger. He and his sister shared their dreams, but not literally- “Jamie!” Her voice came, sharply, “Jamie, this isn't a dream. I think… it might be real.” “But that would mean…” he trailed off, neither of them wanting to be the first one to say it. So they chorused; “we time travelled.” Before either could fully react to this startling revelation, a gruff voice growled “You there! Come where I can see you!” Uncertainly, the twins complied, stepping onto the wide, cobbled road leading up to the castle. They were faced with a grizzled gate guard, a lean, wiry man with hair greying at the temples. As he looked them up and down, his bearded face drained of all colour. “You shouldn’t be here,” he murmured. Suddenly, his arms shot out with blinding speed as he grabbed them by the wrists. Powerless in his viselike grip, Jamie was towed along. Somewhere in his periphery, he could see Lottie struggling slightly. Still reeling from his shock, however, Jamie could do nothing but limply allow himself to be half-dragged through torchlit stone hallways until they reached a low wooden door. The guard pushed it open and they entered a small, dimly lit space which appeared to be a storeroom of some kind. Lottie opened her mouth to say something (probably some variation on “Now, who do you think you are,” or “What are you doing” or - Jamie’s burning question - “Where and when are we?''), but the man forestalled her by speaking words which shouldn’t have been possible. “You’re Aurelia’s children, aren’t you?” Their looks of shock were confirmation enough. “I know your mother. “And I know where to find her…” “What are you talking about?” Lottie asked, stunned. “Our mother has been missing for two yea-” she trailed off, smacking her forehead. “But of course… time is relative…” She reeled. She had so many questions, her mind working overtime as she tried to process the new information. Finally, she managed to choke out, “Where is she?” The man sighed. “I suppose I should start at the beginning. “Aurelia was always slipping through time here. She brought warnings, wisdom from the future. And in the times of the Old Kings, she was appreciated for her service. But… that all changed when the wizard arrived. Our King didn’t stand a chance - he’s a puppet ruler now. The true power in this kingdom is the wizard Icefyre Frostlocke, and-” “Icefyre Frostlocke?” Lottie asked incredulously. “No. There is no way that’s his real name.” “It isn’t,” the guard replied, bemused, “his name is Dave. But can we focus, please? Frostlocke felt threatened by your mother’s immense power. So he decided to pass some new laws strictly sanctioning the use of magic. They were passed quickly and without her knowledge. So the next time she slipped through to the castle, she was immediately ambushed and taken into custody for time travelling without Frostlocke’s permission. Tomorrow, on the equinox, your mother is going to face a public trial for unauthorised use of magic under the Frostlocke regime. And she will be executed.” “No,” Jamie whispered, “we can’t let that happen.” “Exactly,” replied the man. “And now that you two are here, we might have a chance at rescuing her.” Immediately, her brain went into overdrive. There were many questions she wanted to ask, questions like ‘Where is she being held’ and ‘What resources do we have,’ and ‘How do we even know you’re telling the truth?” But the thing she had to know was: “Why us? Why does our presence give us a chance to rescue her?” He gave her a confused look, like this was something she should already know. “Because magic is hereditary, Charlotte Watson.” A few hours later, Jamie still wasn’t sure they were ready. Correction: he wasn’t sure he was ready. Unfortunately, the time for being unready had passed. Their plan hinged on him and Lottie being able to do what needed to be done. Their mother’s life depended on it. Their plan, as all good ones are, was charmingly simple. After nightfall (a nerve racking fifteen minutes away), the guard - whose name was Benedict - would cause a distraction which allowed them to sneak into the dungeon. Following that, they would do the hard part, and attempt to free their mother from the bonds - both physical and magical - which held Aurelia captive. They could do this. They had to. “Everyone ready?” Lottie asked. Nodding grimly, Jamie eyed his sister. Despite how nervous she was probably feeling, she still seemed cool and collected. Only Jamie could see beyond that exterior. They were both terrified. Because if they were caught, there would be no do-overs. Even if they understood how magic worked, they wouldn’t be able to time travel out of a magic-proofed cell… “We have to leave,” Benedict whispered in his husky voice. “I’ll start my distraction. You kids run when you get the chance.” The man had changed into some (distinctly soiled) billowing white robes. Jamie smiled. The distraction had been his idea. Abruptly, Benedict took off running through the hallways as castle staff were milling back to their sleeping areas. “It is I,” he screeched, “King Arthur, son of Uther Pendragon, from the castle of Camelot. King of the Britons, defeator of the Saxons, sovereign of all England!” “Pull the other one!” One of the staff called back to him, shaking his head. “I am! And this is my trusty servant Patsy,” he gestured to a random man in the throng of people who were now gathered around him. Before Jamie heard the man’s reply, Lottie seized his arm. “Look, as funny as it is watching Benedict reenact Monty Python and the Holy Grail hundreds of years before it was even invented, we’ve gotta move.” Nodding, he and his sister started to creep through the hallways, heading down narrow flights of rickety stairs and through endless hallways where eyes seemed to be watching them. Jamie felt a growing sense of dread as the sound of footsteps on flagstones echoed deep underground. Things always seem hopeless, Jamie thought to himself, just before the heroes discover a hidden power buried deep inside of them to save the day. I just hope I can hold out until then. Picking up on his mood, Lottie murmured, “Forget about ‘James Watson, Orc Slayer.’ James Watson, Wizard Slayer has a much cooler ring to it.” It looked like she was about to say more, but just then they reached the door leading to the wizard Frostlocke’s personal dungeon. “Stop!” Called the carved door knocker, “Who would enter the Dungeon of Doom must answer questions three!” There was a dramatic pause. “What… are your names?” “James and Charlotte Watson,” Jamie called back, smiling. Maybe there was more truth to The Holy Grail than he had previously realised. “What… is your quest?” “To rescue Aurelia Watson.” “What… is the capital of Assyria?” “Assur!” They both chorused. The door swung open, and they entered the dungeon. There, on the other side of the room, stood a tall, bearded figure in star-spangled robes. “Ah, the Watsons,” Icefyre Frostlocke purred, “I’ve been waiting for you…” Lottie was perplexed. This was not going to plan. Frostlocke was supposed to be distracted. The disturbance in the corridors… he wasn’t… he shouldn’t… her plan… was falling apart? “What do you want with us, wizard?” Jamie called, taking the initiative. “Oh, nothing much,” the sorcerer replied, taking a step towards them, “just your lives. An insignificant cost, really, when the reward is getting to assist one as great as I with my plans?” Plans… got to make a plan. All she could see was her mother hanging limply, manacled to the wall… “After all, you have already proven yourselves useless enough to fall into my trap. This castle is my domain. Did you really think the Ambience wouldn’t allow me to hear your plans?” Ambience? What was that? They just didn’t know anything… That was when a plan came to her. She gave Jamie a meaningful glance, explaining it in Morse code with her eyebrows the way they had spent so many hours practising. Luckily, Morse code hadn’t been invented yet, so Frostlocke was unlikely to know it. “Great one, we knew you were powerful, but we never realised how powerful. Tell us, is anything beyond your influence?” “Ha! Of course not.” The wizard looked amused and pleased by her flattery. “It’s simply a matter of focusing on the magic in my bloodline. Merlin was my great-uncle, you know - and I am the greatest sorcerer since him, since the fall of the Old Kingdom!” “Merlin? Really?” Jamie asked, with a wide-eyed curiosity that had not been faked. “Yes. Focusing on my kin - their magic, their accomplishments - is what gives me my power. I am the culmination of their achievements.” Lottie seized this for the vital information it was. She thought about her mother. How strong she always seemed. How in control. She linked hands with Jamie. Thought about all the things she loved about him. How he gave her strength. Strength. It welled up inside of her, until she and Jamie released… something. Twin bursts of light. Radiant. A raw, untrained power. Frostlocke fell to the floor, stunned. There was a similar shining in the vague position of their mother. Everything was a vague smudge of light to Lottie’s eyes, but she thought she saw the manacles shattering. She lunged for her mother’s hand as the light consumed them, shattering into a million bursts of glittering glass and reforming into… the cave. They were home. Something was wrong. Jamie could sense it in the air - a warping, as if too much power had been stuffed into a tiny space. When he stepped out, it was to see a mauve skyline extending above him, hung with strange, smudgy planets even in the daytime, figures on broomsticks and cotton-candy clouds. Something was definitely wrong. Their father was outside to greet them. “I sensed ripples in the Ambience,” he said by way of explanation, “But don’t you think two weeks is a little long to be on a time-travel adventure? Oh well. I guess we can always go back again.” Something was definitely very wrong. “Wait,” Jamie confirmed, “you know about magic?” “Of course I know about magic,” his father replied with a booming laugh, “magic has been everywhere since the Dark Ages…” Author's Note: Really sorry about that cliffhanger. I thought it would be interesting in a time travel adventure to have something like that happen. And I'm sorry if the ending seemed a little deus ex machina. Overall, however, I'm fairly pleased with this story. If I ever resolve that cliffhanger, I'll try to make it a bit less soft magic.

Learning I'm Lucky “Have you finished packing, Marie?” my mama called. “Almost,” I replied. I was going to stay at my grandma’s house for the weekend while my papa and two brothers went on a guys only camping trip. I hate camping. I threw my books into my backpack. Why, why was my school presentation due on Monday? I really wanted to see my grandma but I would have to probably spend a lot of time studying. “Okay, I’m ready!” I shouted, walking out of my room and into the front garden. “Goodbye, sweetheart,” whispered Mama, embracing me firmly. “Bye, Mama!” I smiled. *** “Bonjour, ma chérie!” smiled Grandma as I entered the living room. "Bonjour, Grandma!” I replied. “I’ve got a pot of onion soup on the stove,” she said. The tantalising smell wafted into my nostrils. “Yum! Merci, Grandma!” I grinned. Grandma smiled and sat down on an old, comfy sofa. “How is school?” she asked politely. I sat down next to her on the sofa as I thought back through the week. This one kid had bullied me, I had to do a tiring presentation, and there was a lot of annoying gossip going around. It could be worse, though. “It’s okay,” I shrugged. “I have to do a presentation on Versailles.” I watched my Grandma’s face light up. “Oh, how nice! I visited Versailles when I was your age,” she told me happily. “What was it like?” I asked. “It was simply wonderful, Marie. Intricate decorations, polished floors, and lots of long hallways. You would love it.” I beamed. That did sound nice. “If I’m not mistaken, the soup is ready now,” Grandma announced. She walked into the kitchen and served the soup into two pretty porcelain bowls. After laying them gently on the table, she pulled out some homemade bread for us to dip in it. I sat down at the old wooden table. “Bon appetite!” Grandma grinned. *** I slipped on the nightgown that Grandma had made me. It was made of airy white muslin, and had lots of frills and flounces. A bit embarrassing, maybe, but it was sweet that she had thought of me. I ran a brush through my strawberry-blonde curls and got into bed. As much as I would have liked to burrow under the sheets and drift off into the land of dreams, I had studying to do. I opened up one of the books I’d taken out of the library about the Palace of Versailles. I yawned as I read about the Hall of Mirrors, the King’s bedchambers, and the Palace Gardens. There were a few pictures of the Gardens on page 17 that showed the ornate fountains and neatly trimmed hedges. My brothers would love running up and down the rows of trees and getting muddy. I yawned again, and felt my eyes get heavy. I still had Saturday and Sunday to read up on this. I let my eyes close and before I knew it I was fast asleep. *** I opened my left eye tiredly. I could just make out…a tree? Both of my eyes shot open. I did not appear to be in bed anymore. “I’m in a garden,” I said in a voice that was barely a whisper. All around me were rows and rows of trees. This was not Grandma’s garden; hers had beds of roses, daises and violets and only one tree. And it wasn’t my garden at home either. This wasn’t any garden that I’d ever been in before. Where was I? I wandered around, still in my nightgown. Were there any other people here that could help me? I kept walking, the gravel scraping my bare feet. Eventually I came to a stone fountain, in front of a ginormous building, where at last I found people. Lots of people. They were all wearing weird, old-fashioned looking clothes and milling around gossiping. This was unlike any place I’d ever known. It smelled horrendous too. A woman in a green lacy dress strolled over to me, and said something in French. “Excusez-moi?” I asked. I was lucky that I’d learnt French from Grandma, or else I’d be lost. “Are you here to see Marie?” she repeated. How did she know my name? What was she even on about? “T-to see Marie? I am Marie,” I stammered. “Oh,” she gasped. “I’m terribly sorry, Madame. We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow! Tell me, where is your carriage?” Carriage? What carriage? And people were expecting me? “It…left?” I mumbled. “Come right this way. You can’t be seen in such clothes,” she said, tugging on my nightgown. I tried to remember what I had been doing before I came to this odd garden. Hmm…I had fallen asleep. So this had to be…a dream! Yes, of course, a dream. All I had to do now was follow Green Dress Lady and wait to wake up. At least, that’s what I told myself. I was led into the ginormous building. There were more weirdly dressed people inside, all whispering and pointing. I gazed around. This had to be the fanciest place I’d ever been, with its intricate decorations, polished floors, and long hallway - wait. There was something familiar about this. My eyes widened as I realised where I was: Versailles. “This way,” said Green Dress Lady, rushing down a long corridor. I struggled to keep up with her. As she ushered me through the many halls and rooms, she called out to the people we passed; probably servants. At last we stopped abruptly at an ornate door, and I stepped in shyly. There were several more servants inside the room, and they all bowed as I entered. “Time for you to get dressed,” Green Dress Lady announced. There were so many questions I wanted to ask her but I would sound so weird asking them. “I don’t mean to be rude, but…who are you?” I queried. “Oh, pardon my bad manners. I am Madeleine, one of your handmaidens,” she replied. Handmaidens? Why did I need handmaidens? “Let’s get you dressed, Your Highness.” said another handmaiden. Your Highness? What! Wait… I was in Versailles, people were wearing old-fashioned clothes, they knew my name was Marie, and everyone was acting like I was a big deal. Oh man… they thought I was Marie Antoinette! The handmaidens started pulling my nightgown off. “Y-you’re doing this for me?” I stammered. “Yes, of course, Mademoiselle,” replied Madeleine. “You are the future queen. You needn’t lift a finger.” I felt a sudden power building up inside of me as she said this. Everyone thought I was Marie Antoinette. The future queen of France! I had servants, handmaidens. An entire entourage! Maybe I was stuck here, and it was confusing, but I was in control. I gasped for air as a tight corset was pulled onto me, breaking my train of thought. They then tied an uncomfortable hoop around my waist, and I guessed that was to make my skirt puff out when they put it on me. They covered me in more layers until I was completely dressed. I took shallow breaths in the confining corset and gazed down at my outfit. It was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen! Silky with beautiful embroidered details. Madeleine and the other handmaidens dusted my hair with an itchy powder to make it white, and put it in a complicated up do. My great-aunt goes and gets her hair coloured each month to cover up her white hairs. It was funny that the servants were making my hair white! “You look simply beautiful, Your Highness,” sighed Madeline, tying a lace choker around my neck. After placing a feather hairpin behind my ear, the servants were finished dressing me. I breathed in as deeply as I could in the corset. Now what? I stepped out of the room, the handmaidens following me. Dozens of people were milling around chatting loudly and pointing at me. “What are they doing here?” I asked Madeleine. “Versailles is a public place,” she responded. “Anyone can come here whenever they want,” I swallowed hard. Everyone was staring at me. “And,” Madeleine added, “they want to see the future dauphine of France.” Oh of course. The dauphine, the queen, her Majesty. I would have to assume this role until I could get back to the present. Or wait… how could I be in the past? That’s ridiculous. Remember, Marie, I told myself. You’re just dreaming. All you have to do is wait to wake up. I followed Madeleine through the gossiping crowd into yet another room which I guessed was the dining hall. Without saying a word, more servants served me platters of indulgent foods. I hesitantly picked at a baguette as I felt the scrutinizing eyes of all the people boring into me. I reached for a napkin. “Uh, uh,” tutted a handmaiden. She picked the napkin up and wiped my mouth for me. “You have servants for everything.” she reminded me. I suddenly felt all the power being drained out of me. Maybe I had been mistaken for a noble, but my only purpose was to look nice and sit on a throne. I couldn’t do anything freely or without assistance. Anyway, were the peasants seriously going to watch me eat lunch? That sounds really boring for the people watching and really uncomfortable for the person being watched, which unfortunately, was me. “Look at her dress!” cried a young girl with messy hair. “She’s so pale,” croaked a man in a ripped shirt. “Those cheekbones!” gasped a bedraggled lady. I looked at them all sadly. They were filthy, with their damaged clothes barely clinging to their frail bodies. “I wonder if she’ll let us have her leftovers!” hissed a skinny young woman. They were starving, dirty and some of them were probably homeless. I suddenly felt bad for complaining about my presentation or moaning when I had to have fish for dinner. I was actually lucky. Really lucky. *** I sighed softly as I was tucked into bed. Someone blew out the candles and the room was plunged into darkness. After staring at me for an uncomfortable amount of time, a few servants walked out and I closed my eyes. Goodbye, Versailles, I thought to myself. Tomorrow I would wake to the sound of the kettle boiling as Grandma made me a delicious breakfast, and I would finally be home. *** Yaaawn… I stretched my arms up above my head and pushed off the covers. I opened my eyes and saw thick brocade drapes framing a long window. Outside the window were the neatly trimmed hedges of… Versailles! I was still here! I wasn’t dreaming, and I wasn’t home! If this was real, then how would I get back? I moaned as servants began to fuss over me. People rushed in and out, dressing me in heavy silk garments. It was quite mad how some of them had only one job. There was this lady with a big nose and arched eyebrows whose only place in Versailles was to put my shoes on my feet! I walked slowly into the dining hall to eat breakfast. I took a moment to be mindful and enjoy the buttery taste of croissants and the comforting warmth of a hot drink. Still, peasants crowded around me and chattered. Then it hit me. I thought back to what Madeleine had said to me in the garden yesterday – that they weren’t expecting me until tomorrow. And today was tomorrow, when the actual Marie Antoinette was supposed to arrive. I couldn’t be here! They would find out who I really was and… my brothers have made me watch too many time travel movies where the heroes open a time paradox. I do not want to have to deal with a time paradox. I had to leave now. Let’s see… how had I entered this place? That’s right - the gardens. So maybe I should go there. “Um, excuse me for a second,” I said hurriedly, rushing away from the servants. “Mademoiselle!” they cried, dashing after me. I ran into my bedchambers and began hastily throwing my clothes off. I changed into the nightgown that Grandma had made me. I couldn’t take anything from the past back with me. At least, that’s what I assumed. “Dauphine!” the servants called, trying to find me. I grabbed onto one of the brocade drapes, took a shaky breath and jumped out the window. I let go of the drape and screamed as I fell into a tall hedge. Pulling leaves out of my hair, I staggered out of the hedge and kept running. I heard horse’s feet plodding in the background. Marie Antoinette was arriving! I kicked off my shoes and sprinted into the rows of trees. “Oof!” I cried as I tripped on something. I looked down and saw the book that I had been reading in bed the night I travelled here. Breathing fast, I flipped through it until I found page 17. “Yes!” I hissed, my heart nearly beating out of my chest. “Goodbye, Versailles,” I breathed, taking one last look at the majestic palace. *** THUD! I landed on the soft bed. I hugged it with a happy sigh. I was home at last. I pulled my hair out of its up do. I gasped as something fell out of it. The feather hairpin! I really had time travelled, I wasn’t crazy. I placed it carefully in my purse which was lying on the bedside table. Thankful that I was sleeping in a room with an ensuite, I washed the white powder out of my hair. “Marie?” I heard my Grandma’s friendly voice coming from the kitchen. I skipped happily up to the dining room table. “Goodness you had a long sleep in,” she remarked. I chuckled softly, “I did a lot of studying.” “Ah, good. Do you think you’re ready for your presentation?” she inquired. “Definitely,” I responded confidently. Should I tell Grandma that I had gone to Versailles? It was one of her favourite places. Wouldn’t she love to know what it had really been like back in the 1700s? Time paradox, the words echoed through my head. Maybe not. Grandma placed a hot croissant and a cup of herbal tea in front of me. “I’m glad,” she smiled at me. There was silence for a moment. “I’m proud of you, chérie,” Grandma said, looking deeply into my eyes. “You’re working hard, even when it gets tough. No matter how difficult school or life gets, you face it with bravery.” I reached out to hold her wrinkled hand. “Merci, Grandma,” I replied. “Merci.” “And I’ve noticed,” she said, “your French is getting very good.” Grandma complimented with a less sombre tone. “You could pass for Marie Antoinette!” I giggled knowingly to myself. I could. “Je t’aime, Grandma.” I sighed, embracing her tightly. “I love you too, my precious.” she replied.

The Greatest Grandfather Clock By Angus J 2022 Icklebogg Manor was as cold as a frozen yoghurt in the world’s coldest freezer. The faint sound of a tap dripping could be heard from where Isla Icklebogg was standing. At 12 years of age, she would rather write a book or eat than explore a creepy old family mansion. This mansion gave her the heebie-jeebies! Isla suddenly felt tears well in her eyes. She had spotted her grandfather’s urn from last year. Isla’s grandfather, William Icklebogg had died from skin cancer at only age 66. With the death of a much-loved relative on her shoulders, she wasn’t sure she could continue this exploration. Isla pressed on. After approximately 10 minutes, she came to a dead stop, for an ancient grandfather clock confronted her. Isla stood there, fixed to the spot, staring at the ancient grandfather clock that stood about 1 or 2 metres from where she was standing. The clock itself looked old enough to have been around when Buckingham Palace was built! It was only then that Isla realised that one of the cogs had stopped working! She wondered if she could try and fix it. She leant toward the door of the clock and opened it. CRREEAK! Isla’s eardrums rattled with the impact. She put one hand to her ear while the other remained on the door handle. Sounds and lights suddenly burst from the old clock. Isla was now not only focused, but utterly intrigued. She stepped inside the clock, not knowing what was in store… ***** As Isla wandered around an unfamiliar dusty old road, a filthy fragrance tickled her nostrils and she sneezed a few times. A weird old machine rattled past and she quickly bounded across the road. A couple of women dressed in long, straight dresses glanced at her with a strange and curious look in their eyes. Distant jazz music reached her eardrums. It sounded jazzy and fun. The song sounded familiar, like something off one of her grandfather’s old jazz records from the 1920s. The Town Hall clock nearby chimed 12 and Isla jumped nearly a metre in the dusty air! She landed with a soft thud and a crunch on the gravel below and looked down at her sneakers. Isla’s heart skipped a beat. Nobody else was wearing lace-up sneakers! In fact, nobody was dressed like her at all! She swallowed hard and suddenly realised: “I don’t belong here!” Isla noticed an old-fashioned shop and as she walked slowly forward, she overheard some fancily-dressed women speaking about her in hushed tones. “Look at that girl!” “Oh, I know!” “How bizarre!” Isla began feeling very unsettled, when she suddenly felt a tap on her shoulder. She jerked around, expecting to see a fully grown man wanting to say how weird she looked. But she didn’t… Instead, she saw a boy about the same age as her, dressed in a tweed jacket and bow tie. “You look strange!” he said in a high-pitched, squeaky voice. “I get that a lot,” Isla said, trying to hide the annoyance in her voice. Isla wondered if she should ask the boy where (and when) she was, exactly. But how? She couldn’t just say, “Hi! I’m Isla Icklebogg and I just walked through an ancient grandfather clock and arrived here! I suspect it could have been time- travel! If so, where & when am I?” NO WAY! NEVER! NOT IN A MONTH OF SUNDAYS!! Suddenly, an idea came to her! “Umm… I’m sorry. I don’t know your name,” Isla said. “Colin,” he replied. “Colin Carter.” “I’m Isla”, she said. “What’s the date today, please? I’ve travelled a LOONG way and I’ve… lost track of the time! Where and when am I?” Colin chuckled a genuine, high chuckle. “Fair enough. The trams out here are mighty unreliable! Today is Wednesday, the 15th June, 1929. And the answer to your ‘where’ question is George St, Sydney, NSW, Australia.” 1929! WOWZA! Now Isla knew she had time-travelled! And then it dawned on her… the 15th June, 1929 was Isla’s deceased grandfather’s birthday! Maybe, just maybe, she could write a letter to her great-grandmother saying to take good care of her new baby! “Hey, Colin?” asked Isla. “Do you have any idea where Icklebogg Manor is?” Hoping that Colin would know, she held her breath. “Pfft! Of course! Who wouldn’t?” Colin replied. Isla let out the breath that she was holding. “Well, where is it?” “It’s in the Eastern suburbs, and there’s a tram leaving for there in…” Colin looked up at the clock on the roof of the Town Hall. “5 minutes!!” Colin and Isla ran in the direction of the nearest tram stop. As she was running, Isla caught glimpses of people pointing and staring at her, and she suddenly realised that it was probably her denim shorts, tie-dyed t-shirt and bright blue-sneakers that were drawing people’s attention. “Umm…Hey Colin?” she asked as they were waiting for the tram. “Yeah?” “Do you mind if I borrow some of your clothes?” Isla knew this seemed like a stupid thing to ask, but she thought it was worth a shot. “Sure! I’ve got some spare clothes in my satchel!” said Colin. “Really?? Why?” Isla couldn’t believe her luck! “Listen, don’t tell my mum. Okay?” “Okaaay…” “I’m actually meant to be at school, but I think it stinks! That’s why I’m wandering about Sydney, looking for something to do.” “Right…” Colin got out his spare clothes and shoved them in Isla’s face. Isla quickly put on the button-up, collared shirt, and long cotton shorts over her own 1990’s outfit, and tried to rub some dirt onto her sneakers, in an attempt to disguise how brightly coloured they were. As the tram rattled to a stop just in front of where they were standing, Isla hesitated, wondering whether she would be safe on this strange, out-dated form of transport. But Colin grabbed Isla’s hand and pulled her up onto the tram, and led her to a hard, wooden bench seat right at the back. Isla suddenly wondered where and when she would write the letter to her great-grandmother. After a minute or two, she decided to do it right there and then! “Hey Colin, do you happen to have a pencil and some paper in your satchel? I just want to write something down.” “Sure!” said Colin, as he reached into his satchel and retrieved a strange looking pencil, and tore out a page from a leather-bound notebook. “Wow, thanks!” exclaimed Isla, surprised again at how incredibly useful her new friend Colin was proving to be. As the tram bumped along the noisy tracks, Isla somehow managed to write the following letter to her great-grandmother: Dear Mrs. Sally Icklebogg, Congratulations on the arrival of your new baby boy! I am just writing to warn you about something called ‘skin cancer’, which is a very common thing that can happen if you spend too much time in the sun. To prevent skin cancer, I highly recommend NOT leaving your child in the sun for long periods of time. Avoid direct sunlight, especially in the middle of the day, and in summer. It is also wise to encourage your child to wear a hat when playing outdoors. Kind regards, Ms. M. Morgan (Midwife & Child Health Nurse) Isla folded the letter and put it into the deep pocket of Colin’s long cotton shorts. As she handed the pencil back to Colin, she wondered what impact the words she had written could have on history… Isla’s thoughts were interrupted as she suddenly felt Colin pulling her by the hand, saying “Quick! We need to hop off here!” The tram had barely stopped when Isla and Colin jumped out of the open doorway, onto another dusty road. But the surrounding buildings were different this time. Several large, grand-looking houses lined the street, and each had a beautiful garden. For the first time since she had arrived in 1929, Isla felt slightly familiar with her surroundings. “This way!” shouted Colin, as he led Isla in the direction of Icklebogg Manor. Around 5 minutes later, they had arrived at the huge double doors of Icklebogg Manor. Isla’s knocking boomed loudly, and the huge doors were opened by a woman dressed all in white (who Isla assumed was the maid). “Yes?” she said in a delicate voice. “Colin,” whispered Isla out of the corner of her mouth. “Create a diversion while I sneak inside and deliver this letter.” “Sounds good!” Colin whispered back. “Hey Gladys! How long has it been? Must be about 10 years now!” said Colin, sounding like he had known the maid once. “Uhh…Do I know you?” the maid asked cautiously. “Perfect!” thought Isla, as she slipped inside. Isla shivered, feeling a familiar sense of cold as she stood in the grand hallway of Icklebogg Manor. She noticed a door to her right, and through a crack in the door, she could see a midwife’s suitcase on the floor. “Perfect!” she thought. Now she could slip the letter under the door and go! But just after she finished delivering the letter, Isla caught sight of the same grandfather clock that had allowed her to time-travel over 60 years into the past! “Maybe…” she thought, “just maybe I could get back home via that clock!! But first I have to say bye to Colin!” Isla darted to the front doors, where Colin was standing there cracking awful jokes. “You know…I’ve always wanted to juggle, but I’ve never had THE BALLS for it!!” The maid cracked up. Isla grabbed Colin by the arm and yanked him to the side. “Hey Colin…it’s been really nice to meet you, but I’m sorry, I need to go back home now.” “Oh, okay,” said Colin, disappointed. “Do you want me to catch the tram with you?” “No, it’s ok.” Isla said. “I can go alone.” “Okay. Goodbye then. I guess I’ll see ya ‘round.” “See ya.” And with that, Isla walked back into the grand hallway where the ancient grandfather clock stood. Isla opened the not-yet creaky door and WHOOSH!...she was gone. ***** “Where am I?” asked Isla, slightly dazed. “Icklebogg Manor, of course!” replied an all-too familiar voice. Isla looked up to see…Grandfather Icklebogg! Isla’s grandfather pulled her into the tightest hug of all time and said, “Come on! It’s my turn to hide, and your turn to seek! We don’t have any time to waste!” “No, not at all.” THE END

Chapter 1 Casper walked home from school feeling miserable. He was 12, and he knew he shouldn’t be so miserable. After all, it was just a speech. But he was. He had never liked public talks, even when he wasn’t doing them. They made him feel very nervous. ‘Hey Casper!’ yelled a voice behind him, ‘scared of a simple speech about Mars?’ It was Tommy, or Tommy Terror (as everybody called him behind his back), the school bully. ‘Hey, Tommy,’ Casper said, while groaning under his breath, ‘and no, I’m not scared.’ Casper knew that everybody knew he was afraid of speeches. One time, he was doing a presentation about bugs, and in the middle of it, had gotten so panicked that he leapt out of the window. He turned around, and groaned again as Tommy was joined by Nick, his sidekick. ‘That’s pathetic you know,’ Tommy said, ‘being afraid of speeches.’ He looked like he was about to say more, but Nick jumped in, and said, ‘Yeah! What he said.’ ‘Shut up, Nick,’ Tommy growled, staring at Nick so hard he was boring holes into him. Nick shut his mouth. ‘Let’s see what’s in the bag, shall we?’ Casper didn’t want to show his bag’s contents to Tommy, but he had no choice. He handed over the bag. Hopefully, he wouldn’t see the secret pocket where he kept all his snacks and money. Tommy tipped the bag over, and shook it, spilling the contents. All Casper’s books, and school stuff. Thankfully, the ten dollar note stayed put, and the Mars bar. Tommy looked disappointed, then started feeling around the bag. Just as Casper was thinking he wouldn’t find the catch, Tommy said, ‘What’s this?’ with a triumphant shout, he pulled out the Mars bar and the ten dollar note! ‘Give those back,’ Casper said. He didn’t realize he had said it, until it was too late. ‘What did you say?’ Tommy asked, with an edge to his voice. Casper, realizing he couldn’t turn back what was muttered, ‘I said, give those back.’ ‘You know, Casper,’ said Tommy, ‘I’ve got a better idea. How bout I put you in the bin where you belong, and keep these. THAT, is a MUCH better idea.’ Before Casper could run, Tommy grabbed Casper by the armpits, dragged him to the nearest bin, threw him in, and walked off, calling, ‘So long, sucker! Thanks for the Mars bar. No, Nick, you can’t have half.’ Casper didn’t answer, partly because there was no point, and partly because he realized, this bin was not a bin. It was much more than that. It was a time machine. Chapter 2 The bin was bigger in the inside than out. As he looked, he saw the red words “Time Twister 3000”. He couldn’t believe this was a time machine! Was he hallucinating? He pinched himself, and found he wasn’t, because it hurt. He decided to have a look around. There were lots of buttons, switches, panels, and for some reason, a power-board. In the centre of all of them, there was one huge button, and one big switch. The button said “Time Travel, and the switch said “Nuclear Level”. The nuclear level was currently at 0. Casper realized he really wanted to time-travel. It would be great to stop Tommy from coming to his school. Also, he had always wanted to go to the Middle Ages. Casper decided to have a go at it. ‘OK,’ he said, ‘in three, two, one, zero.’ Casper hit the button as hard as he could. Nothing happened. Suddenly, everything lit up in a very bright pink. ‘Time destination?’ asked a droning female voice. ‘The medieval period in Europe,’ Casper said, hoping, but also not hoping that it would work. ‘Turn nuclear level to three, start the turbo drive, and press time twist button,’ the female voice said. The buttons and switches each lit up blue in turn. Casper did as the voice said, and the bin blasted up into the air. Suddenly, Casper felt himself zoom into something. A window opened up, and he saw a whirling storm of colours. The time twister bolstered forward, straight for the heart of the tornado of colours. As it passed through, Casper saw a bright flash of blinding light, and knew no more. Chapter 3 Casper awoke on the ground, with a bin lying next to him. The bin slowly faded away. What had just happened? Then he remembered everything, got up, and stared around in shock. ‘Where am I?’ Casper muttered, as he looked through the forest, ‘is this the Middle Ages, or is this just some kind of mean trick?’ He walked through the forest… and came face to face with a bear. Casper cried out, stumbling back in shock. He felt its breath on his cheeks, and knew that THIS. WAS. REAL. The bear was huge! It was a dark brown colour, and had shaggy brown fur. As he looked up at the bear, he noticed a boy and a girl were sitting on the bear. The boy was tall, with green eyes, and a blonde fringe. He was also wearing a page’s uniform. His sister was similar, but was wearing a dress instead of a page’s uniform, and had blue eyes. ‘What are you doing in Lord Ambergur’s forest?’ he said, in a loud British accent, ‘you’ll be imprisoned for trespass.’ ‘Lord Hamburger?’ Casper asked, amused. ‘No!’ said the boisterous boy, ‘his name is pronounced like this. Am, Bur, Gur. You get that?’ ‘But that sounds a lot like hamburger to me,’ Casper said. ‘It does,’ the boy agreed, ‘but what is this hamburger thing? Is it some kind of exotic creature?’ ‘It’s,’ Casper said, before realizing that he couldn’t explain it to him without telling him that he was from the future. He decided to tell the two siblings. ‘The hamburger isn’t a creature, it’s a food and I’m from the future,’ he said. The boy stared at him for a second, then started to speak. ‘Whether you’re from the future or not, you’re not gonna live without my help. So I’m Brandon and my sister here,’ he pointed at the girl, who smiled shyly, ‘is Narcisa.’ Casper smiled awkwardly. ‘My name’s Casper,’ he said. Then, he realized they were looking at him expectantly. ‘What?’ Casper asked. ‘Well, what are you waiting for,’ Brandon said impatiently, ‘get on Zadie!’ Casper looked around for a second, before realizing that the bear was Zadie. He clambered on with some difficulty, and flopped down between Narcisa and Brandon. Then, they set off. Chapter 4 It was comfortable, riding on a bear. The movement was very rocking, and Casper was just feeling like there was nothing on his mind, when a question popped in his head. ‘Why are you riding a bear, not a horse?’ he asked. ‘We have come to check on her, because she’s our pet’ Narcisa said, patting Zadie’s back. ‘Like a dancing bear?’ Casper asked. ‘NO!!!!’ both Narcisa and Brandon yelled at the same time, startling Casper so much that he nearly fell off Zadie, ‘our mum stopped dad from killing her, and tamed her as a cub. We have to take her on regular walks.’ ‘Oh,’ said Casper. Soon, they came across an actual road and there, Zadie stopped, and stayed. There were two horses waiting patiently behind a crop of trees. ‘So Zadie isn’t coming?’ Casper asked, looking back at the bear. ‘She’d be killed if she came,’ Brandon said, ‘bears are supposed to be raving, fierce, bloodthirsty things. You can ride on my horse.’ Brandon and Narcisa both mounted easily, using the stirrups to pull themselves up. ‘Now it’s your turn,’ Brandon, ‘just use the stirrup to pull yourself up, and sit on the back of the saddle.’ Casper tried without success to get on the horse. It was just too tall, and he was on the short side. In the end, Brandon pulled him up by the hand. Then, they rode off, leaving Zadie in the forest. As they went through the road, they passed some houses along the way. ‘Hey, Dax,’ Brandon called out, looking at a man who was pounding a sword into shape, ‘how’s the business going?’ ‘Great,’ Dax replied, ‘and who have you got there, clinging onto your back?’ ‘This is Casper,’ Brandon said, ‘we found him in the forest. I’m going to see if he can stay in the castle.’ ‘Good luck then!’ Then they rode on, towards a castle looming up ahead. Chapter 5 The castle came closer and closer as they rode towards it. Casper saw that it was bigger than he thought it was. It seemed like the walls stretched on forever. They came to a moat, and Brandon yelled up at a figure on the wall, who in turn yelled down to someone on the other side of the wall. Soon a drawbridge came down, and they rode across to a pair of opening doors. Then they rode into the castle. It looked magnificent. The keep was in the centre, surrounded by another wall. Around the walls sat houses, which were probably the servant’s quarters. Casper could see dog kennels, and stables, and people milling about the area. They rode to the stables, and Brandon and Narcisa both leapt off gracefully. Casper tried to get off the same way they had, but his foot got stuck in the stirrup, and he tumbled off, landing in a heap on the ground. The siblings laughed as Casper got up blushing bright red, and unharnessed the horses. Then they walked through a gate to the keep. When they got to the keep, they climbed up the stairs to the entrance of the keep. Brandon had a talk with the man guarding the door, and they got in. There was a small room, and another door. ‘Can you get my father?’ Brandon asked another man near the door. He nodded, and walked through it. After about 10 minutes, he returned with a tall intimidating man, with Narcisa’s eyes, and Brandon’s hair. ‘What do you want? I’m busy,’ he said, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. Then he noticed Casper. ‘Who’s that?’ he asked, with a sharp edge to his voice. ‘This is Casper,’ Brandon said, accidentally gesturing to the space next to Casper, ‘Narcisa and I found him in the forest when we were walking You-Know-Who. Can he stay with us? Be my personal servant or bodyguard? Since you’re the Lord of this area, I’m sure you can make an exception.’ Casper’s mouth dropped open as he realized that Brandon’s father was Lord Amburger! Brandon’s father gave a deep sigh. ‘Fine,’ he said, ‘he’ll be your personal bodyguard. But if he causes any trouble, then he’s out of here. Do you understand?’ The kids all gave woops, and ran out. ‘You’re staying!’ Narcisa said, and they raced through the courtyard. Chapter 6 Casper watched as the sun set over the forest. It was beautiful. The trees were lit, as if they were made of gold. ‘Nice, isn’t it,’ Narcisa, ‘Brandon sometimes comes to watch it with me, but ever since he became a squire, he can’t get away very often.’ They had run around for a while, playing tag, until Narcisa had to go off for lessons, and Brandon had to go off for his Squire duties. Then, Casper went to look at the dogs. He had always been a dog person. The keeper let him exercise them, and he ran around the castle, until he and the dogs were all worn out. Then, he took them back to the kennels. After that, Narcisa came up to him, and asked him to come and see something. And this was where they were. ‘It’s stunning,’ Casper agreed. A bird flew at his head, screeching like a banshee, and he dove to the ground. ‘Don’t worry,’ Narcisa giggled, ‘It’s just a screech owl.’ ‘Let’s go back now,’ Casper said, getting up. They walked back to the castle. Casper lay on a pallet (a mattress stuffed with straw) next to Brandon’s bed. It was comfy, but not what he’d expected. The smell was slightly stale. He would have liked to sleep outside, near the dogs, but as a body-guard, he had to stay near Brandon. He rolled over, and watched the stars out of the window. They seemed to be winking at him. Soon, his eyes fluttered, and he fell into a deep sleep. Chapter 7 The next day, Casper awoke, and realized that Brandon was shaking him. ‘Wake up,’ he said, ‘we’re going on a hunt.’ ‘Whaa?’ asked Casper, sitting up and yawning. ‘I’m finally old enough to go on a hunt, but I can’t go unless you come with me. You’re my body-guard you know.’ Casper got up, and went after Brandon, who was racing down the stairs they had gone up the night before. Soon, the two boys were ready. Brandon had given Casper one of his daggers, and they mounted a horse. This time, Casper was able to get onto the horse without any help. After that, they waited for a while, while the others got loaded with quivers, and prepared the dogs. Soon, they were off. The boys rode next to Brandon’s father. ‘Is your father Lord Amburger?’ Casper asked Brandon as they rode into the forest. ‘Yeah,’ said Brandon, looking uncomfortable. ‘That means you’re an important person, doesn’t it?’ Casper asked. ‘Yeah,’ Brandon said, looking more uncomfortable,’ It means I’ll inherit the land my father owns when he dies. But anyway, who are your parents?’ ‘My father is a minister, but my mother died when I was 3,’ Casper said quietly. ‘That’s horrible,’ Brandon said, ‘sorry for asking.’ ‘It’s fine,’ Casper said, ‘I barely remember her anyway.’ But in truth, there was a void inside him that could never be filled. Soon, a hunter saw a stag, and the horses increased their pace from a trot, to a canter. The dogs were let loose, and the hunt began. The dogs bayed as they ran after the stag, which had also increased its pace. The hunters chased the stag, and shot some arrows at it, until they came to a clearing. They then surrounded it. The stag snorted, and scraped its foot against the ground. Suddenly, the dogs ran forward and tackled the stag! It bucked and reared, but the hounds were too many, and the stag was already wounded. Soon, it was overcome. A man ran forward, and stabbed it in the neck. The stag kicked once, and then lay still. The men cheered, and blew their horns in victory. Soon, the stag was slung over the back of a horse, and they went back, tired, hungry, and victorious. Chapter 8 After the hunt, the boys went and told Narcisa all that had happened. Then, they went to the feast. They had boars head (which tasted like pork), salmon, bear (which had a taste Casper couldn’t place), and finally, cakes with honey (which tasted like cakes with honey). Minstrels played music, and traders talked with Lord Amburger. Eventually, the people started leaving, and Casper got up with Narcisa. Brandon had got stuck in a chat with a trader about life in the castle, so he said he would come to their room later. The two kids walked up the stairs, and waited there for Brandon. After a while, he came and said, ‘Father told me that Lord Dickson declared war on him, because he wouldn’t give him a piece of land. We need to prepare for battle. Now, I need to stick close to Casper.’ ‘What does the war mean?’ Casper asked, looking worried. ‘It means the people in father’s area will come for shelter in the keep, and that the men will get ready to fight,’ said Narcisa, ‘but we don’t have to worry. Dickson won’t break through the walls. The children sat worrying, until, one by one, they fell asleep. A week passed by, as the men got ready for war, and collected food, and the women and children came to the castle. Then, the war began. The castle was put under siege, and the men got into position. Casper watched as the soldiers dumped buckets of super-heated water on the attackers. The fighting continued through the night. Casper lay awake for a while, then fell into a troubled sleep. Suddenly, he was woken up. At first, he thought it was the sound of the war. Then he realized that there was a struggle near his pallet. He turned his head, and saw a man wrestling with Brandon. The man got the upper hand, and knocked Brandon out. Then, he stuffed him into a sack, and hurried down the steps. Casper waited a beat, then followed after him. Chapter 9 Casper followed the man as he hurried out the door of the keep. He was sure that he had seen the man before. Then, he realized it was the trader talking to Brandon the day before the war preparations. The trader walked casually to the wall, then crept through a door in the wall. Casper followed. When they came out the other side, Casper saw that the door looked exactly like the wall around it. The trader was walking quickly away, so he ran after him. When the man got to the edge of the forest, there was a party of men waiting. They all gave silent cheers. Casper ducked down before the men could see him, crawled through the grass and looked up. The trader was exchanging Brandon for a bag. By the noise it made, Casper guessed that it was money, and lots of it. Suddenly, Casper had an idea. Then, he ran into the forest. He walked through the grass and leaves, and found the place where he had seen Zadie last. ‘Zadie,’ he called softly. There was no reply. ‘Zadie? Zadie!’ Casper called again. Soon he grew desperate, and started speaking louder. ‘Zadie! Zadie!’ Finally, when Casper thought there was no hope left, a huge shape lumbered out of the trees. It was Zadie! ‘Come on girl,’ said Casper, ‘Brandon’s in trouble, and we need to go quickly!’ At the sound of Brandon’s name, Zadie followed Casper. When they reached the spot where Brandon was, and Zadie saw Brandon tied up and gagged, she roared so loud it shock the trees, and charged. As the men looked up, Zadie reached the first one, and swatted him off. She slammed into the next, and shook the one after him. Casper ran and untied Brandon. ‘What’s happening?’ he asked, looking scared. ‘You’ve been kidnapped,’ Casper said, ‘but you’re safe now. Go back to the castle. There’s a secret entrance in the wall.’ Suddenly, Casper felt himself fading away. He knew then that his job here was done. That he had been brought here for a purpose, and now it was complete. And he returned to his own time.

Time Heals All Wounds Author’s Note: … It happened again… three and a half thousand words in and this story just keeps growing! Unfortunately, between discovering that there isn’t a real-life Robin Hood, and just life getting in the way, I wasn’t able to finish the story in time. However, I really love this story and will definitely be finishing it! In the meantime, I’ve posted how much I’ve written so far, along with my epilogue. Trigger Warnings: Mentions of cancer and eventual main character death. Story Synopsis: Ashwind, a 15-year-old girl, is diagnosed with late-stage cancer and only has a few months left to live. In that time, she wants to experience everything that she can, and make the most of the life she has left. Her uncle reveals that he is a time traveller and begins to take her on journeys through time. Through the course of these trips, both Ashwind and her uncle struggle with grief and eventually find peace with their situation. ----------------- Chapter 1: Cancer. One single word that changed my life – or, I suppose, limited it. Sitting in a doctor’s chair, my uncle at my side, my life suddenly had an expiry date. I went into shock, my entire body numb, only half-listening to what the doctor said. Late-stage cancer… caught too late… months to live. The car was completely silent on the ride home, both my uncle and I processing the news. Months to live – I mightn’t even reach my 16th birthday. I’d never get the chance to drive a car, go to university, date, fall in love, get married, or get a job. My entire future, snatched away by one single word. “Uncle Percy?” I asked, my voice small and scratchy. Receiving no reply, I glanced over at him. His slender hands were clenching the steering wheel, his jaw set and body taut. He was only barely holding it together, I realised with a start. He had raised me for most of my life – this would impact him just as much as it would me. Hot tears welled up in my eyes. This couldn’t be happening. Perhaps I was dreaming? I pinched myself desperately, only to be met with pain shooting through my arm. Not dreaming, then. When the car stopped, I jumped out and ran into my room, unable to deal with the situation. Kicking off my shoes, I burrowed my way under the covers of my blanket, and finally allowed the tears to fall. I cried until there were no tears left, and sleep started to pull me into its warm, blissful escape. I awoke sometime later to a light knocking on my door. “Come in.” I called, my voice rough with sleep. Uncle Percy walked into the room, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy. My heart clenched – he had been crying. I hated it, hated that he was suffering, hated myself for causing him pain. Uncle Percy gave a weak smile as he sat down on the bed next to me. “Hey Ashwind”, he said, his voice soft. “How’re you feeling?”. I gave a strangled laugh. “About as well as you’d expect.” I said, a bitter inflection to my tone. “Why is this happening to me?” I whispered, my face crumpling. “Oh, Ash.” Uncle Percy breathed shakily, pulling me into a warm, grounding embrace. I rested my head heavily on his chest and let myself forget about the world for just a moment. He pulled back, and gave me a soft, sad smile. “I know that this a big shock. But we’ll get through it together, alright? I’m going to do everything I can for you.” I nodded unsteadily, instinctively trusting him. After a few beats of silence, Uncle Percy spoke up again, his voice hesitant. “This really isn’t how I imagined it would go, but there is something that I’d like to tell you.” He said, a small spark of life returning to him. I looked at him expectantly, apathy making way for muted curiosity. He sighed. “I was going to tell you on your 16th birthday, but given… recent events, I thought I’d tell you now.” He paused momentarily, before giving me a small smile. “I’m a time traveller.” I stopped, blinking for a moment, while my brain caught up. “Sorry, what?” I asked, my brows creased in confusion. Uncle Percy gave a chuckle, although it was still tinged with sadness. “I’m a time traveller.” He repeated, an impossibly fond smile on his face. “A time traveller?” I said, my eyes widening in disbelief. “Are you serious?”. “Deadly.” He replied, before standing up and offering his hand to me. “Would you like to see?”. I nodded, my eyes lighting up as I pushed my inner turmoil to the side. As I reached up to grab his hand, I got the sense that I was about to go on the journey of a lifetime. ----------------- Chapter 2: My uncle guided me into his study, and I looked around the familiar room in confusion. Surely there wasn’t a time machine in here? I watched as he walked around to the bookshelf behind his desk and pulled on H. G. Wells’s ‘Time Machine’. I gasped slightly as the cupboard next to it opened, revealing a small safe. Uncle Percy keyed in a combination before pressing his thumb to a small sensor. The safe opened with a small hiss, and I eagerly peered over my uncle’s shoulder to catch a glimpse of lay within. Two smartwatches were nestled into a small pillow, the face black. As he reached inside for the more feminine of the two, Uncle Percy closed his eyes slightly, taking a deep breath before carefully removing it and handing it to me. Carefully taking it, I inspected the object. The watchface was slightly larger than normal, and there was an extra button on the side, but apart from that I couldn’t see much difference. I flipped it over in my hands, and my breath hitched slightly at the inscription on the back of the watch. “Time waits for no-one”. I gave a quiet, bitter laugh at the painful reminder of my reality, before once more pushing the knowledge aside and locking it down tight within me. I wouldn’t allow it to ruin my discovery of time travel. I glanced up at Uncle Percy, only to find him staring at me with a look of abject sadness. It was only there for a second – gone the instant he caught me looking – but it was there for long enough to make the harsh reality of my situation claw at its confines deep within me. I bit my lip, hard, and the pain was enough to quiet the beast. “Can we go on a time trip?” I asked, desperate to escape, even just for a while. Uncle Percy smiled slightly at me. “That was the idea.” He said, before holding his watch so that I could see. “Watch this.” He pressed the extra button, and an input field opened up. “You enter in a string of numbers that corresponds to longitude, latitude and time. I thought we might take a trip to one of my favourite places in history.” he said, keying in a string of numbers. I put it back on, marvelling at the small device. “Are you ready?” he asked me, his face lit up in excitement. I nodded despite the trepidation that was beginning to curl at the bottom of my stomach. Uncle Percy clicked a button on my watch, and a tendril of light began to wind its way up my arm. Within seconds, we were both engulfed in the light. With a resounding boom, we were gone. ----------------- Chapter 3: I blinked a few times as I readjusted myself, slightly off-balance. I took a moment to take in my surroundings. Huge fronds – taller than me – greeted me. Their leaves swayed slightly in the wind, almost as if waving to me. I stared at them for a second, before my attention was diverted by a loud shrieking noise. I silently edged closer to Uncle Percy, turning a questioning gaze on him. “That was it?” I asked incredulously. “We just time-travelled?”. He nodded, his lips quirking upwards. “You are now officially a time-traveller.” He said proudly. I smiled broadly before shrinking back slightly as I heard another shriek. “What… what’s that?” I asked, grabbing onto his arm. “Nothing to be alarmed about, just the local wildlife.” He said brightly. My eyes widened in concern. “Where are we? Or perhaps the better question- when are we?” I asked, my brows furrowing. Uncle Percy merely grabbed a hold of my hand, guiding me through thick foliage. After trekking through what felt like miles of jungle, the scenery abruptly opened up, leaving the two of us on a tall cliff overlooking a valley. “Welcome to Mammoth Valley.” Uncle Percy said, his arm sweeping out theatrically. I stopped, all breath leaving me in a sudden exhale as I stared, spellbound, at the sight in front of me. Hundreds of woolly mammoths moved slowly across the base of the valley, their shaggy coats a vivid contrast to the reddish clay ground. “Is that… are those woolly mammoths?” I breathed, my eyes misting over. Uncle Percy smiled as he nodded. “Every year, hundreds of woolly mammoths migrate through this valley on their journey north.” Uncle Percy tapped me on the shoulder. “I’ll just pop back to get us our picnic, alright?” he said. “I’ll be right back.” I nodded absently, still spellbound by the scenery. I turned just in time to see a ball of light engulf him. With a bang, he disappeared. I blinked a few times, still unused to the strange phenomenon, before watching as another ball of light appeared, stretching outwards to reveal the figure of Uncle Percy, picnic basket and blanket in hand. After a light lunch, I lay on the blanket, revelling in the wind’s gentle caress. As I rolled to the side to watch the woolly mammoths way down in the valley below, the truth of my reality hit me, escaping from its cage and wrapping its tendrils around me as it slowly suffocated me. I closed my eyes, a deep, unfathomable sadness filling me. This was happening, I couldn’t deny it any longer. A tear escaped, unbidden, and carved its own path down the side of my face. Uncle Percy smiled sadly from where he was sitting next to me. “You ready to go back?” he asked softly. I tried to respond, but a lump had formed in my throat, rendering me unable to speak. He leant over, gently rubbing a hand up and down my arm. Once… twice… my jaw clenched slightly, unexpectedly finding myself annoyed by the comfort. I shrugged his hand off, moving away slightly as a sudden and powerful desire to be alone surfaced. I stood up and took one final look at the majestic creatures below, before silently packing up the picnic while avoiding Uncle Percy’s gaze. I glanced over at Uncle Percy’s wrist, ensuring that he had a time watch, before tapping the home button on my own time machine. Still refusing to meet Uncle Percy’s eye, I watched as a tendril of light curled up my wrist before. Uncle Percy reached forward, grabbing desperately at my hand. With a flash, I disappeared, leaving him clutching at nothing with a stricken look on his face. ----------------- Chapter 4: I arrived back at Uncle Percy’s study within moments. I immediately dropped the picnic basket on his desk before quickly retreating to my room, locking the door behind me. I heard a distant bang, alerting me to the fact that Uncle Percy had returned. A bitter anger had begun to make itself known, rearing its ugly head and playing on my already frayed nerves. I was furious at the universe for letting this happen to me, at the doctors for not being able to do anything, at Uncle Percy for having kept time travel from me for so long… but most of all, I was furious at myself. I was furious that I hadn’t picked up on the signs earlier, furious at myself for all those times I had missed out on something because I thought I’d have the time to ‘do it later’. My hands curled into fists as a tidal wave of anger and resentment rose within me, threatening to overwhelm me. I glanced around for something to aim my anger at. My gaze landed on my diary lying open on my desk, taunting me with my plans for the future. I scoffed. What future? I’d be dead, my life snuffed out, within months. I grabbed the diary, ripping it into pieces and hurling the pieces into the trash can before kicking the trash can with as much force as I could muster. Still enraged, I picked up the cup next to me, hurling it against the wall. I watched as it shattered into a million sharp, uneven pieces, gaining some measure of satisfaction from the destruction. A sharp knock on the door only increased my irritation. “Go away.” I said mutinously. I heard a sigh, and I could almost imagine the pained look on Uncle Percy’s face. “Please open the door, Ashwind.” He replied, an unusual firmness in his tone. My annoyance only rose. “I said, go away.” I repeated, anger now colouring my tone. “Just leave me alone.” The doorknob turned, as if Uncle Percy was trying to open to door. “Unlock this door, Ashwind.” He repeated, his voice rising slightly. I ignored him. I didn’t think I could withstand the silent pity in his eyes – I would shatter. I chuckled darkly at the similarity to the broken cup that now lay in shards across my room. It was just as broken as I felt. Uncle Percy growled slightly. “Are you just planning to hole yourself up in your room forever?” he snapped, clearly at the end of his tether. I stalked over to the door, flinging it open. “Happy now?” I snarled sarcastically, throwing my hands up into the air. He took a deep breath. “You can’t hide in here forever.” He said calmly, although there was an undercurrent of anger still present. “Really?” I snarked in return. “Seems to be working pretty well so far.” Uncle Percy’s jaw muscle twitched slightly. “I understand that this is difficult for you.” He said evenly, his tone measured. “However, that is no excuse for shutting people out.” I laughed, a bitter broken sound that reflected my current mental state. “What difference does it make?” I spat out, clutching desperately onto my anger, if only to keep away the sharp, penetrating pain. “I’ll be gone in a few months anyway – what difference does it make?”. Uncle Percy flinched as though slapped, and I glanced away to push down the guilt I felt at the gesture. “Don’t you dare say things like that, young lady.” He replied through gritted teeth, true anger finally making itself known. “You might be happy to go down this path of self-destruction, but I refuse to let you wallow in self-pity.” I stepped towards him, a dark smile on my face. “I haven’t said anything that isn’t true.” I said purposefully. Uncle Percy took a deep breath, before turning and striding quickly towards the door, his entire body taut with unspent anger. He stopped at the door, turning around. “I’m going to leave you alone for the time being, since it is clearly impossible to logically reason with you in your current state. I suggest you get some rest, because we’re going on a time trip tomorrow.” He said firmly, before shutting my door with more force than strictly necessary. I sat heavily on my bed, guilt beginning to creep in as my anger deflated, the beast settling itself for the time being. I knew that I shouldn’t have talked to Uncle Percy in that way, yet I couldn’t find it within myself to go and apologise. After sitting on my bed for a while, I finally roused myself enough to get changed and go to sleep, deciding to leave my uncle alone for the rest of the day. ----------------- Chapter 5: I awoke the next morning bleary-eyed and exhausted. Even as I painstakingly dragged myself out of bed, my sleep-addled brain could register that something was out of the ordinary. However, it was only once I spotted the shattered cup that still lay on the floor that my situation truly dawned on me. I groaned, a fresh wave of guilt and exhaustion washing over me. I briefly considered ignoring everything and going back to sleep but paused when I spotted the outfit that hung on the back of my door. Walking over to hesitantly inspect it, my nose wrinkled in distaste. A stiff, multi-layered dress greeted me; a long, black coat layered on top of a patterned inner dress. A belt held the clothing together, and frills adorned the cuffs of the sleeves and the neck. I shook my head. Did Uncle Percy honestly expect me to wear this monstrosity? Noticing a small corner of paper poking up, I took the neatly folded note slipped inside the pocket of the dress. ‘Ashwind, If you are to travel in time, you must blend into the surroundings – hence the outfit. Yes, you have to wear it. Get ready, we’re leaving after breakfast.’ I rolled my eyes, slightly annoyed, before deciding that I wanted to go on a time trip more than I valued my comfort, and so began donning the… questionable outfit. Half an hour later, I had managed to successfully wrangle the costume into a semi-decent state. ----------------- A.N: This is how far I got up to. I'll be skipping ahead to the Epilogue now =D -----------------   Epilogue: Uncle Percy stared bleakly at the hospital. It had been a week since Ashwind’s death, and the pain was still sharp and fresh, everything becoming a reminder of the daughter he’d lost. Walking into the clinically white building, he was surprised by a nurse rushing up to him. “Mr. Halixal!” she called out; an envelope clenched tightly within her hands. He paused to allow her to catch up, slight annoyance showing on his face. Every second spent within this building was painful, and he was eager to leave as soon as humanly possible. “Mr. Halixal! I’m so glad I caught you.” she said, and Uncle Percy recalled seeing her taking care of Ashwind during the final few- he cut off the thought before finishing, the grief too potent to face. “Is something the matter?” he asked, and if it was slightly curt, neither said anything. “I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry about Ashwind. She was a lovely girl.” The nurse said, her eyes misting over slightly. Uncle Percy gave a tight smile, his jaw clenching slightly. He was barely holding it together as it was – one more condolence and he would splinter. The nurse held out the envelope to him, her smile comforting and empathetic. “Ashwind asked me to give this to you once she…” the nurse trailed off, lowering her head slightly in respect. “I hope that whatever’s in there brings you some measure of peace.”. Uncle Percy stared at the familiar neat cursive, his heart squeezing painfully and a lump appearing in his throat. Feeling his mask begin to crumble, he took the envelope with a nod of thanks before retreating to the relative safety of his car. With shaking hands, he traced the ink on the front of the envelope before sliding the note open and beginning to read. “Dear Uncle Percy, If you’re reading this, then that means that I am no longer on this Earth. I’m writing this letter to say everything that I want to say to you but know that I’ll never get the chance to. I know that it won’t take away the hurt or the pain, but I’m hoping that it’ll help the healing process. I’m so sorry, for leaving like this, for putting you through this pain. I never wanted to hurt you in this way, and I’m so sorry that it turned out like this. You know, it’s funny – I’ve always been terrified of being left alone, that you’d leave me. I guess it ended up being the other way around. When my dad passed away, I felt like I was drifting alone in a world that no longer felt right. It was you who tethered me back to reality, who helped me through the overwhelming and suffocating grief and taught me how to continue surviving in a world that no longer had my dad in it. Over the years, you became my paternal figure. You became my safe port in a storm, someone who I could rely on and who would love me unconditionally. Thank you so much, for everything that you’ve done for me. You saved me, and I’ll never be able to thank you enough. These past few months have been the best of my life. I’ve experienced things that others could only dream of, been to places beyond my wildest imagination. You filled my last few months with wonder and beauty. Thank you so very much. I’ve come to terms with my impending death, and my only regret is those that I’ll be leaving behind. I hope that you’ll find peace and continue to live and make the most of the precious time that you’re given. Eternal love, Ashwind” Uncle Percy’s frame shook slightly, tears sliding down his face and splashing down onto his coat. Feeling something else within the envelope, he tipped it upside down and let the contents fall onto his lap. A gold watch fell out and he picked it up, tears blurring his vision. A small smile appeared on his face at the reminder of the adventures they had shared before he flipped it over and gave a weak, watery laugh at the inscription. Feeling the lightest he had since Ashwind’s death, he smiled genuinely as he stared out his car window at the glittering sunset. “Thank you, Ashwind.” He whispered as he rubbed his thumb over the inscription. 'Time waits for no-one - so make the most of every moment.'

Asterix was everything except for obnoxious. She was as ordinary as you could get. She had canary yellow hair and strikingly blue eyes. Her skin was fair and light. She absolutely loathed history. In fact she had the record of the lowest history exam marks in human history. But She never knew a peculiar event would change the course of her life forever. It all began when she was feeling a bit mischievous. She snuck into her mothers private-library. There were rows and rows of dusty books . At the end of the colossal hall was an old chest. She approached it carefully and opened the chest. An old jeweled book was the only object that was in the chest. She grabbed it and ran. She had just taken her mothers prized heirloom. She ran and ran until reached her bedroom door. Chest heaving she opened the book on her bed. Her heart skipped a few paces. She was flying through nothiness. She fell. She was hopeless. She opened her eyes. She was standing in the middle of a market in what looked like a re-enactment of ancient Rome. Shoppers barged past each other. Women wrinkled their noses at her. She looked at her phone. Strange there is still wifi, she thought. Suddenly everything stopped. Horns could be heard. A procession was heading towards a building. Soldiers marched with pride. Prisoners hid their faces and people jeered at them. Asteriex was standing in the way of the procession and her jaw dropped. “Oi get out the way you street rat” a soldier yelled at her. She did not bugge. Her brow raised. “Or I will use the hard way” he raised his sword threateningly. A boy with golden locks ran between Asterix and the procession. “She was only passing-” the boy broke off. “Not you Julius I am telling your dad, unless you move her” the soldier threatened. Julius dragged her off to a fountain. “Oh sorry for the interruption of the movie” she apologized. “What's a movie and are you out of your mind?” he asked. “I know you are pretending, it is the 21st century” she said. “You are in Rome” he sighed. What if she thought I am halfway around the world ? She realized she was no longer in 2022 but in ancient Rome. Julius looked at her with strikingly blue eyes. He had noticed her family heirloom. “Did you steal my fathers treasure? '' he said, shocked. “No this is my mothers family heirloom” she replied innocently. Julius took her to his house. It looked like he was one of the rich citizens. He took her to a library. There it was the book. It was identical. “Julius, I did not steal it, I know it's hard to understand but I am from the future” she sighed. Julius took a long time to digest the words. “Ok I will believe you” “Want to stay for dinner?”he asked hopefully. “Ok Julius” Asteriex replied . Dinner looked delicious. “Dormice Asterix?”asked Julius. Asterix didn’t reply. She had eaten a roasted bird and was very full. She was busy scrolling through the endless videos on Tiltok. Julius stared at her phone for a while. Aterix was starting to get worried she would be stuck in ancient Rome forever. She started to fidget with the book in her hands. The fidgeting was restless.“Julius, I want to go back.” She opened the book. Words began appearing on its blank pages as though the words were freshly written. It said: tick tock the time is running out by the strike of midnight you will be trapped in the past forever to reverse this fate, prevent thieves from stealing the copy of this object. Julius stared at the words. “Julius, I think it means that your fathers book is going to get stolen”Asterix said. So they hurried up to the library. All was quiet until footsteps came.Julius moved back against the wall. The night was dark and cold. Asterix climbed out of the window onto the roof. Julius dared not to follow.The roof creaked and groaned. Two dark shadows could be seen, cautiously climbing. Asterix opened the light of her phone. The thieves looked startled at first. But grinned evilly when they could see her. “Little girl playing with cotton dolls eh?”one of the thieves teased. “I’ve never played with one.”she stammered, trying to sound brave. In a flash, one thief pinned her down to the floor. The other held a gleaming dagger to her throat. Asterix could feel his nasty breath against her pale face. “So uh you want to kill me ?” she stammered. “Little girl tell me where the treasure- to - success is?” one of the men questioned. “What treasure- to- success?” Astrix lied. Though she knew what the man was talking about. The moment when the man was about to kill her. A voice shouted “hey stop that.” The man’s jaw dropped. It was Julius thundering across the tiled roof. He puffed out his chest and said through clenched teeth”do you know who my father is?” But before Julius could answer. The man leaped at him. Asterix whipped out her phone and opened Tiktok. The thieves began to stare. Wherever the phone went the pair of awestruck thieves followed. Asterix began leading the thieves to the edge of the roof. There Julius pushed them to their doom. The thieves were gone. Asterix high fived Julius. Suddenly, an enormous eagle swooped silently into the roof. Asterix opened the book and there was a hand pointing to the eagle. She moved the book a few times. It just kept adjusting itself to the eagle. The eagle soundlessly indicated its back. Asterix hesitated then sat onto its back. It took off immediately. She waved at Julius. The bird of immense strength began flying faster and faster. Until she could only see the stars like jewels glimmering in the night sky. Then, without warning the eagle shot back down to the ground. This time, it wasn’t Rome, it was Paris. She was home. She closed her eyes and breathed. She opened her eyes and found herself in an exam. She glanced down. The teacher was looking hopefully at her. She glanced down again and started answering. Everything was easy. This incident was life-changing. She had thought she would continue to fail at history. But this incident prevented this fate.

Chapter I A small, skinny boy raced across the pavement to somewhere, anywhere, that would provide shelter from the horrible, lashing, PETRIFYING, rain. “Aaaahhh!” Screamed the small, skinny boy. The small boy’s name was Peter, and he suffered from full-blown aquaphobia, a morbid fear of water. Like rain. “Help!” He was seen as a complete misfit in the school playground, which was also why he wasn’t stopping to shelter under a tree or his raincoat, as he had a gang of school bullies hot on his tail. Peter was puffing like a steam train, and the bullies were catching up. Peter saw an open door up ahead, so he turned sharply into the doorway, slammed the door behind him and barricaded it with a heavy armchair. Peter held his breath as he heard the stomping footsteps grow louder and louder… then softer and softer. He then exhaled so much air he could have blown out all the candles on an immortal jellyfish’s birthday cake. He looked out a window. The dreaded rain was still bucketing down, so Peter decided to explore. The room was one big library, with seemingly endless rows of shelves. It looked quite old fashioned, and was dimly lit by a small chandelier hanging from the roof, and a few scattered candles. Even though the rain was still lashing outside, everything seemed eerily quiet. After his eyes adjusted to the low light, Peter saw that there were little white specks rising out from the books, and drifting slowly along the shelves. On closer inspection, they were actually letters and numbers and symbols, in random orders, floating gently. He decided to follow them. They seemed to be moving towards a strange pulsating glow of golden light. The light was coming from a large, leatherback book with a title written in golden, classical letters: The Time Book. The letters and numbers flowed into it, seemingly being absorbed by it. The book made a strange rifling sound, like an indoor fan being turned on. As Peter edged closer, the book opened and flicked its pages gently. He picked up the book, which seemed to warm the air around it, and flicked over to the contents page. He skimmed over it, looking for something interesting. It seemed to start at the origins of the Earth to what was happening right that second. At the end of all of that, there was a chapter entitled “Alternate Realities”. “Cool!” Thought Peter. He traced the dotted line over to the page number. Page 912! Peter huffed in amazement as he flipped over to page 912. The first part of the chapter was, “A world without land” And had a picture of these strange, amphibian-like beings that seemed perfectly adapted for life in an ocean. They seemed to be hanging out in this high-tech looking underwater lab, that had a few of the tallest bits poking out. The only thing that abnormal was that it seemed so realistic, so vivid, so real; that Peter couldn’t help but reach out a hand and touch the beautiful drawing. Suddenly, and invisible force clamped onto his arm and yanked him into the picture, slamming the book shut in the process, leaving no trace that Peter had ever stumbled upon the strange library, and changing his life forever. Peter yelled louder than he ever had. He felt like he was being thrusted backwards, through time and space. He didn’t know for sure, but he felt like he was being squashed and stretched in all the wrong directions, images flashing before his eyes, the G-force rippling his cheeks. Peter felt like he wasn’t going forwards and backwards. He felt like he was going… sideways, almost. Suddenly, he felt himself stop. He was in outer space, looking down on the Earth. “Alternate Realities” He whispered breathlessly as he was yanked back down to Earth. Suddenly, his vision faded into black and white. His ears popped and he saw himself in an ocean. He couldn’t hear or feel anything except the sound of a soft wind. He dived down, deep into the depths, until he came across a large undersea trench. He dived down at remarkable speed. He came to the bottom of the trench, and on the side of the rock face, there was a cragged hole, and in that cragged hole, there were shelves of books. It looked exactly like Peter’s library. There was also a blurry, humanoid figure silhouetted by a glowing, lemon yellow light. He heard a faint, crackly record playing. It sounded familiar-like a lullaby. But this one was out of tune and insanely creepy. He couldn’t hear it at first, but it increased in volume. There was a glowing yellow orb before him. It looked exactly like the light from the hole. Without thinking, he reached out and touched it. It suddenly seemed to get sucked into his arm, making him twitch and convulse. Just as his vision seemed to focus on the figure, he was yanked backwards, out of the hole and out of the ocean, stopping just above the surface. Then his vision focused, his senses came back, and then, he started falling. Chapter II Peter yelled in fright as he fell, down, down, down, until he landed SPLASH! Into the ocean. The water seemed to be rising and falling, dunking him under the water with every fall. Water filled his lungs, making him cough and splutter until he felt like throwing up his internal organs. Needless to say, this was not helping his Aquaphobia. He screamed and kicked and thrashed, his heart clawing his way up his throat. He was sinking like a stone. The corners of his eyes were fading. Then he felt something like a hand grab his leg. A spark jolted down Peter’s spine and everything faded to black. Chapter III Peter woke with a jolt. He was in a white room, like a laboratory. Everything looked extremely blurry. Eventually, his eyesight focused and the room he was in was indeed a laboratory, but with giant windows on each side, looking slightly blacked out. But Peter was paying zero attention to the windows. His attention was focused on the strange, fish-human creatures that were leaning over him. Peter screamed the loudest scream he had ever done. He started desperately kicking and thrashing. Then he heard slightly disoriented voices in his head, a human voice riddled with gurgles. But they didn’t sound like actual noises. They sounded more internal, like thoughts. “Why are you screaming? Why are you screaming? We aren’t going to hurt you. Calm down.” The creatures were talking to him, without moving their mouths or any sort of facial movement. Their faces weren’t busy talking. They were frowning. But not an angry sort of frown. A concerned one. “You’re safe. Don’t worry.” Peter sat up, still hyperventilating. He opened his mouth to talk, then shut it. Then opened and shut it. He tried to speak, but the words came out mangled. “Wha… Nun… Nuhuh?” He babbled. “Num nums?” Asked one of the creatures. “Are you hungry?“ The other creatures behind it sniggered. “Are… Who are you? What am I doing here?” Stammered Peter, finding his voice at last. “My name is Finn.” The alien answered. “You are here, well, becuase we saw you pop up out of nowhere, and then started screaming and thrashing about. We swam over to you, and when we reached you, you were just floating on your back, eyes closed, unresponsive. We thought you were dead.” There was silence for a moment. “Wh-what are you?” asked Peter. “Well, we were just about to ask you that.” Replied Finn flatly. “Are you an alien?” Asked Peter and Finn simultaneously. *No.” They both responded. “Okay, okay.” Said Peter breathlessly. “What species do you belong to?” “Aqua Rambiotistrique.” replied Finn. Peter looked frightened. Finn sighed. “The water people.” Peter nodded uneasily. “I am a Homo Sapiens.” Finn stared at Peter blankly. Peter sighed. “Humans.” “OK. You ah… want me to show you around?” Peter nodded. It was the only thing he felt sure about. Finn walked Peter around the amazing lab. It was amazingly high-tech, and the doors just opened as soon as you got close to them. Finn also gave a quick summary of the anatomy of “The Water People”. Their skin is a shiny, sky blue colour and it dries out in a few hours, so they have to keep it wet. They have long tails that ended in a fork with a large, fin-like red fluke that was extremely strong, and was the main motor for swimming. Peter went white. Swimming? “Are you ok?” Asked Finn. “Yeah. I’m… fine.” Finn then proceeded to explain The Water People’s remarkable telepathic abilities. They could transmit their thoughts to another member of their species within any distance as long as they could see eachother. But with members of a different species, they could only transmit thoughts within a 10-meter radius. “But some of us, with enough training, become exceptional, and transmit thoughts to any species within a 30 metre radius.” Finn seemed to glow with pomposity. “Like me.” Peter rolled his eyes. Suddenly, a question popped into his head. “Finn…?” “Yes?” “Well, you know how you said you have to keep your skin wet? Well, why not build this place near water then?” Finn smiled. “But boy, we are.” He pressed a button on the wall, and suddenly, the walls retracted down. Behind it was a thick sheet of glass. And behind that sheet of glass was one of the most amazing, beautiful… and frightening, sights Peter had ever seen. The building seemed to be completely submerged in water, and outside was the most amazing marine life you could possibly imagine. Creatures with extremely long and bendy necks, leading down to a body with four flippers, like a school of Loch Ness monsters. There were these fish with beaks like a parrot, and glowing stripes down their body. “Woah…” Whispered Peter, his eyes wide. Suddenly, he started shaking uncontrollably. He broke out in a cold sweat. He turned and bolted down the hallway as fast as he could, barging past other water creatures like Finn, setting bemused looks on their faces. He couldn’t get away from the sight of all that water… every time he looked, he felt more and more scared, fuelling his urge to run further. Eventually, the windows ended and he came to a door. He crashed through the door into a smart, futuristic office and dived under a desk. He collided with some boots, and he heard somebody make a very surprised noise and then slumped in their chair. Peter waited for his heart to stop pumping in his mouth and slip back down his throat, and then got up to apologise. “I-i’m sorry I crashed into you. You see-“ Peter realised that the other water creature was unconscious. “Oh no.” He breathed. Peter began to hear Finn’s voice slip back into his mind. “Peter? Peter! Why’d you run away? What’s wrong?” “Finn? Finn! Come quick! I think I hurt someone!” Finn burst into the room. “What? Where? Who’s dead?” The water creature in the chair lifted his head and opened his eyes. He seemed stockier and older than Finn. As soon as he saw Peter he frowned. He clicked his fingers at him. “Finn? Who is this? He doesn’t look like anybody i’ve seen before.” His voice was quite deep and gravelly. “Erm, sorry sir. Apparently he’s a… uh… Pogo… Japiens?”Peter rolled his eyes. “Homo. Sapiens.” The other guy frowned again. “Are you an alien? Where did you come from?” He asked. So I told him the whole story. About aquaphobia, finding the library and then the book. When I finished he looked throughly shocked. “Are you… alright?” Asked Peter. He got up and took Peter by the arm. “Follow me.” He said. Chapter IV The other guy lead Peter into a room, with a long table lined with some spongey looking chairs. They felt really soft and seemed to absorb water. The other water creature began to speak. “My name is Commander Sean. What is yours?” He asked. Peter paused for a moment, unsure of what to say. “His name is Peter.” Answered Finn for him. Commander Sean nodded and wrote something down on a waterproof notebook. “Did any other Pogo Japiens come here with you?” Peter sighed. Was anyone going to get his species name right? “No. Nobody came down here with me.” The Commander nodded again and wrote another thing down. “Nobody would actually come with me.” Peter muttered. Commander Sean looked back up at me sharply. “What was that?” He growled. “Um, *splutter* nothing.” He replied shakily. Commander Sean got up and marched towards him and grabbed my collar. “You said something.” He growled. “What was it?” Finn stepped in between them. “Hey, hey, Commander. Calm down. Peter’s just a kid.” The Commander’s expression turned from angry to surprised, and then his eyes flickered and he was asleep again. As Finn went to nurse his fallen commander, Peter had to ask him. “What’s… wrong with… Sean?” Before Finn could answer, the Commanders eyes flickered open and rolled around lazily. “Pass the beer, grandma.” He mumbled. His eyes then focused. “What did you say my problem was?” “Well…” Peter hesitated, not wanting to offend him. “Why do you keep falling asleep?” The commander rolled his eyes. “Everyone asks me that.” He said, standing up. “I have a condition called narcolepsy. It means I fall asleep when I have a strong emotion or strain too hard.” He thought for a moment. “Why did I faint again?“ “Finn just told you that I am a child.” The commander’s eyes rolled back and he fell backwards once more. Chapter V “So let me get this straight.” Said Commander Sean. “You, a homo sapiens child, just happened to stumble across the one thing that we have been looking for for years and years and years, and you had no intention of activating any of this time travel magic.” Peter sat there, gathering his thoughts. “Um… Yeah, I guess so.” The commander threw a fax machine at the wall. He looked at Finn. “And you KNEW about this?” Finn gulped. “Uhh, yes, sir.” Commander Sean blinked at Finn. “Finn, you’re fired.” “Crap.” Peter jumped to his friend’s rescue. “But Finn was the one who saved me from drowning.” Sean looked back at Finn. “Finn, you’re hired.” “Yay!” Sean looked back at Peter. “Okay, young… uh… Romeo Blatantiens…” Peter groaned. “Homo. Sapiens.” “Fine, young homo sapiens, the magic of that Time Library is… just…” The commander sighed and put his head in his hands. “Pure evil.” A shiver shot down Peter’s spine like an electric charge. “What do you mean, pure evil?” He said. “Ok, let me explain.” Began Commander Sean. “Oh no. Peter, i’m very sorry about this. Sit tight. This’ll take a while.” Said Finn wearily. “Shut up Finn! Ok. Right. So, the magic library you ran into is the birthplace of probably the Universe’s most evil magic. One day, a few decades ago, I was just cruising around in my submersible and-“ “Hang on, sorry to interrupt,” Began Peter, “but why would you be in a submersible if you can swim so well?” The commander grunted. “We can swim really well at the surface, but we can’t go below 200 meters because of the water pressure. And the cold.” Peter nodded and gestured to the commander to go on. “40 years ago or so I was cruising around the deep ocean, and then my radar picked up a large energy source. I came to it, and it was just floating around. The radar showed it was extremely powerful, so I absorbed it into my ship. Suddenly, I could go really super fast, so I turned on my radio to tell everyone, but then I heard this voice come out of it. It sounded raspy at first, and hissed and spat, and then it sounded really calm and friendly.” The commander seemed to grip his chair tight. “It told us all about itself, about how the library was its birthplace, blblblah blblblah blblblah. Then it somehow persuaded me to make it our primary energy source, but then our race became corrupted.” The commander grit his teeth. “It then took control of our weapons, and all hell broke loose. It blew up almost all of Atlantis-“ “What’s Atlantis?” Asked Peter. “The underwater city we all live in.” Said Finn and Sean simultaneously. “And we tried everything to make it stop, but it wouldn’t. But then, Mr. Finn here had the bright idea to simply switch everything off. And it worked.” Finn glowed like an overexcited light bulb. “We didn’t manage to get it out of our systems though. We had to build a new Atlantis and circuit system practically from scratch. The evil power is simply disconnected, but it’s still there. If anyone was to reconnect it, all hell would break loose.” There was silence for a moment. “How could you get rid of it?” Asked Peter. Commander Sean blew out his mouth. “Well, nobody knows, really. But a lot of people think that if you can destroy the library, you can destroy the… thing.” Commander Sean snapped his fingers and turned to Peter. “Have you had any visions?” Chapter VI Peter considered the Commander’s question. He thought back to when he first fell into the alien ocean. The figure he saw… could it be? No, that would be impossible. “Well, er, no, i don’t think so.” He said, finally. “You think so?” Asked the Commander. “Well, yes and no.” Began Peter. “I’m not too sure. Everything was black and white, and there was this undersea trench, and there was this hole in the wall, and the yellow light, and the person, and the voice. And then it was gone. I don’t know.” He spluttered. The commander waved his arms like a penguin trying to take off. “What trench? What Hole? What Wall? What Light? What Person? What Voice? Slow down and use detail!” Finn made a cuckoo signal behind the Commander’s back. Peter tried not to smile and explained his vision in detail. By the time he was finished, Commander Sean was fast asleep and Finn was just standing next to him, looking frazzled. Commander Sean stirred. “Shut up mummy. I like ketchup on my ice cream.” He muttered before waking up properly. He groaned and put his head in his hands. “I know where you’re talking about. We have done a million radar searches but found nothing. It isn’t there. Please don’t let it be there. Anywhere but there.” Peter was confused. “Anywhere but there? Where? Why?” “What?” Peter sighed. “Where is “there”? Why is it so bad?” Finn groaned. “But Peter, that’s… that’s where… it’s…” “It’s what?” Asked Peter, getting impatient. Commander Sean jumped in. “It’s in the Deep.” Chapter VII “What’s the Deep?” Asked Peter. “Only the most dangerous place to ever exist.” Peter shivered. “Why? Why is it so dangerous?” Finn sighed. “Because the water is poison, there is no light, and, most of all, the creatures that live down there.” “Which creatures live down there?” Commander Sean sighed. “You don’t wanna know.” There was a long pause. “Okay. Commander… are we…” “If you are even thinking about that, Finn, I will hijack your shuttle and drop you over a desert.” Finn took out a post-it-note, wrote something on it and stuck it on the back of the Commander’s chair. “So we’re not going anywhere.” “No.” “We just made the discovery of the century, and we’re doing nothing.” “Yes.” “We’re just going to sit here and do nothing.’ Commander Sean gripped his chair tightly. “Obviously not. We’re gonna do something.” “What?” “I dunno.” Finn rolled his eyes in exasperation and smashed his head on the desk. It hurt, so he rubbed his head and muttered curses under his breath. “For Big Blue’s sake Mudskipper. We can’t just sit here and do nothing. We have to destroy it!” Commander Mudskipper Sean’s face darkened. He jumped up out of his chair and grabbed Finn by the collar. “It’s Commander Sean to you, Mister Fatty Fish Lips!!” He thundered. Finn turned up his nose and screwed up his face, like Commander Sean’s breath smelt like dog poo. He slapped the Commander lightly on the cheek. The Commander’s expression turned from mad to furious and his eyes flickered and he slumped onto the floor. Finn peered down at the fallen commander. “Huh. Wow. I must be stronger than I think.” He flexed one of his arms and examined it. He grinned and flexed both arms. “I’m a strongman, baby! Chapter VIII After several minutes of bickering, Finn finally won the argument and the trio found themselves in the Commander’s submersible. “SYSTEM GO FOR DESCENT.” Said an automated voice. The commander flicked a button and the ship started. The bubble jets started and the submersible was propelled forward, into the deep blue depths of the alien ocean. Finn looked back over to Peter and saw him huddling under a chair, shivering and sweating. Finn considered what to say. “Are you… alright?” Peter was so frightened that he could only shake his head. But it was already shaking, so it was hard to tell. “Aquaphobia attack, right?” He asked. Peter nodded slightly. Finn called over to the commander. “Hey, Commander. Can we have the views blocked? Peter’s having a bit of an aquaphobia attack.” The commander flicked a button and the walls extended and covered the view of the beautiful but terrifying ocean view. Peter crawled out from underneath the chair. “Shame though. I thought I saw a school of Angler Parakeet Fish.” The shuttle descended and, even though the windows were up, Peter could tell it was getting darker. Peter began to feel uneasy, but this time, not from the aquaphobia. “Hey, uh, Commander Sean?” Commander Sean grunted with an upwards inflection at the end. “Remember how you said this place was dangerous because of the creatures that live here?” Commander Sean nodded but didn’t answer. “Well, what creatures live here?” Asked Peter wearily. Commander Sean opened his mouth to talk, but Peter’s question was answered when something bumped into the submersible with such force that the lights flickered and everyone and everything was thrown to the left side of the ship. The Commander swore loudly as an echoing moan rattled the ship, and its three occupants. “What is it? What is it?! Get rid of it! Please, make it stop!” Wailed Peter as the submersible was thumped again. The commander hauled himself onto the dashboard and poked some buttons on a mini screen. An automated voice blared out of the speakers. “Munda.” The voice said. “Known Characteristics: Extremely aggressive, sea snake like creatures. They are very aggressive towards boats, and some of the larger specimens are 50 meters long and weigh around 120 tons. When prey first comes into their sights, they will circle around, and bump into it, testing its prey. Then, they wrap their snakelike, flexible bodies around their prey and squeeze. They may squeeze to a pressure of 330 tons. Extremely Dangerous. Do not approach.” Just as the voice stopped, a blood-chilling hiss echoed through the submersible. Commander Sean looked at the radar, which, unlike human radars, showed a detailed and 200 FPS view of the world outside the ship. Right now, there was the green and red Munda, curling around the ship. There were a few other Mundas with it, circling around the ship hissing excitedly. Suddenly, all the other Mundas hissed and bolted away from the submersible. The one still coiled around the ship didn’t notice. Then, a massive, unidentified shape appeared on the radar. It was indescribably ginormous. It latched its powerful jaws onto the helpless Munda and sucked it into its mouth like a tiny noodle. The size difference between the Munda and the giant creature was equal to that of an earthworm and a great white shark. The submersible was probably no bigger than one of the creature’s teeth. The commander gasped, and all colour drained from his face. His eyes flickered and then shut. But not before his fingers had wormed their way towards a button. An automated voice crackled over the speakers. “The Great Unknown. Known Characteristics: None.” Chapter IX The Great Unknown swallowed the Munda whole and swam past the ship. The three occupants inside the ship breathed a huge sigh of relief. “Thank the tsunamis that that episode is over.” He said, crawling out from a pile of furniture. “Me too.” Peter muttered. Suddenly, there was a long moan, something between a whale song and the metallic grind of steel. The Great Unknown had circled back around and was examining the submersible. Peter could feel its powerful flippers churning and beating the water around it. The whole submersible rattled and quaked, along with its occupants. Then Peter felt a stomach churning Bump! of The Great Unknown’s nose bumping the tiny pea-sized submersible that had recently invaded its territory. Finally, the giant creature lost interest, turned around and swam away. Peter and Finn breathed such a sigh of relief they could have blown up ten balloons in one breath. The commander, who had just woken up from his narcoleptic nap burst through the doors to the lobby with a loud BANG, making Peter jump and dive for safety under an upturned table and Finn squark like a parrot. “Where? What happened? Is everyone ok? Are the Mundas gone? Is The Great U- Finn interrupted his babbling commander. “Yes, yes. Everything’s alright. Calm down.” The truth of this sentence was short-lived as The Great Unknown’s tail whipped around and whacked the submersible all the way to next Monday. The submersible corkscrewed through the water, occasionally bumping into marine life as it went. Needless to say, the effect on the inside was catastrophic. The furniture, chairs, gadgets, Peter, Commander Sean and Finn, not to mention lots of other debris, were sent flying around the shuttle. Peter was smacked in the face by someone’s tail and thrown into a battered chair, colliding midair, whereas the Commander latched on to Finn’s arm, refusing to let go until eventually Peter’s shoe was flung into the air and hit the commander on the chin, and there was a earsplitting din of tables and chairs and furniture and even food banging in to the walls, eachother or one of the three living occupants. Finn flapped his arms around, as if trying to fly away from it all, and the Commander got tangled in his own tail. Peter was slapped by one of Finn’s flailing arms and flew into the commander, who was now in yet another narcoleptic nap. Suddenly, there was a loud BUMP and everything was flung down to the floor, either shattering or breaking. Peter’s head smashed into a table leg and everything went black. Peter’s eyes slowly flickered open amongst a sea of broken furniture. His ears were ringing, and he had a migraine headache. He slowly lifted his head. His whole body protested with a shock of pain that burned through all his joints. He massaged his temples, and eventually his ears stopped ringing and his eyesight focused. He could see Finn lying on the ground, underneath a pile of junk, still unconscious, and the commander in the corner, leaning against the wall, clutching his leg and swearing like there was no tomorrow. Peter drowsily got up and crawled over on his hands and knees to the commander. “What’s wrong? Are you ok?” He asked. The commander swore again, several times. “Yea, nope. No. I think I broke me leg.” He ground his teeth. “Yep. Broken leg.” A few meters away, Finn began to stir. Then he moaned. “Ugh. Ohhhh. I’ve got such a jiffing headache. Does anyone have any headache pills?” He looked over to his swearing commander. “Hey, commander. Your leg alright?” The commander swore one last time for good measure and then passed out. Finn sat up. “I guess not.” He scrambled over to Peter. “What happened?” He asked. Peter pursed his lips. “I think he broke his leg.” “Oh no.” He groaned. He dashed around the submersible, turning over all the broken stuff to find a first aid kit. Suddenly, the lights on the submersible failed and flickered to red and an automated voice crackled onto the speakers. “Warning! You have 30 minutes of air left! Air will run out in 30 minutes! Warning!” Peter sighed. “Great.” He said. Chapter X Finn had wrapped a glowing, metal-like cast over the commander’s leg. He was still semi-conscious, and mumbling in his dreams. “Hello, Bubbles. Do you wanna go on a swim? Do you wanna go on swim? Yes you do! Yes you do!” He mumbled. Finn was desperately trying to get the engine started again. One of the joysticks leered at him. “Heh heh! Stupid fish. Can’t get the submarine up and running. Mister Fatty Fish Lips is a noob.” Finn was about to thump the joystick with all his might when he remembered. “It’s just oxygen deprivation. Nothing else. Just that.” The other buttons and joysticks began laughing at him. The oxygen deprivation was making him irritable, and see and hear things. There was a dull thump from the other room. “Shut up you stupid couch! I’m not soft! Look at me! Now look at you! You got a million rips and cuts in you! Do I? No!” Finn sighed. Looks like it was getting to Peter too. Suddenly somebody swore loudly from the next room. “Oh hello, Commander. Your leg ok?” Enquired Peter. Finn heard a pause. “Why are you punching the couch?” Finn called for help from the pilot’s cockpit. After even more cursing and and cringing, the commander picked himself up and limped over to Finn. “Right, okay.” He began. “Engine’s out, jets are out, and lights are out.” The automated voice crackled back on the speakers. “Warning! You have 15 minutes of air left. Warning.” The commander sighed. “And we’re running out of air.” Commander Sean shoved Finn out of the way and sat in the pilot’s chair. He swatted Finn away from him. “Go fix the lights.” While the commander worked on the engine and Finn worked on the lights, Peter was sitting amongst a pile of stuff, not sure what to do. But what could he do? He was just a kid. Finn and Sean were experienced professionals. “Hey Peter! Could really use a hand here!” Or maybe he could do something. Peter rushed over to Finn. He had the top half of his body shoved up the ceiling and was surrounded by wires. “I need you to do something really important.” Peter straightened. “Yes?” “Tell the commander that if we make it through this ordeal, I want a raise.” Peter sighed. Suddenly, the lights flickered back on and Finn crawled out of the ceiling. He winked at Peter. “You’re welcome.” He said. Just then, the engine and the jets spluttered back into life. Peter’s eyebrows perked up. “Things are looking good.” The submersible’s jets spluttered and shook and they propelled the submersible across the ocean floor. Finn bounced into the pilot’s cockpit. “Hey hey hey! We got the submersible going, commander! Way to go!” Finn paused. “Commander?” Finn spun the chair around, and the commander was lying there, fast asleep in a narcoleptic state, with a big fat smile spread across his face. Chapter XI The small, battered submersible dragged itself slowly forward on the seafloor. It moved towards a massive gouge in the earth’s crust. This was the deepest point in the alien ocean. The submersible floated down the side lazily. The trio inside were completely on edge. “I reckon in the next few minutes,” Predicted Finn, “That this whole submersible will be slowly making its way down something’s gullet.” Peter shivered. He wasn’t sure if he was cold, or frightened. It didn’t matter. Cold or scared was a much better alternative than death. They descended down into the depths of the trench. Eventually, they came to the bottom. The commander gestured around them. “Do you… recognise this place?” He asked Peter. “Yes. I’m pretty sure it was around here somewhere… Oh!” Something began building in volume. It sounded like a lullaby. But this lullaby was out of tune and insanely creepy. It was obvious that the others could hear it too, as Finn’s eyes were bulging out of his head and the commander was frantically swivelling around on his chair to try and discover the source. “What’s that noise?” He asked, flabbergasted. “I heard the song in my vision. We should be close now…” He stopped, seeing a faint splodge of yellow light. “There!” He exclaimed. The submersible turned and propelled towards the light. The yellow light was coming from a hole in the wall. In the hole, there was a library. The exact same one that Peter had gone into several hours ago. A figure emerged from the light. Peter couldn’t see him vey clearly, but he could make out that he had a blood red, scaly body, but still humanoid, with a black cloak around him. His voice was normal and even. “Greetings, searchers. You have come, at last.” The commander grit his teeth. “So you were the one who destroyed half of Atlantis. You have a lot to answer for.” The figure smiled and turned at the commander. “Hello, Mudskipper. You look older. And rounder, I must say.” The commander went purple. He clenched his fists and quaked with rage. He obviously did not like being addressed by his first name. Nor being accused of being round. He slumped back in his chair. “Hmm. I guess your narcolepsy hasn’t improved either.” Finally, Peter spoke up. “Who are you?” The creature smiled again. “I a-“ He stopped mid sentence and did a double take. “Are you… is that… a human?” Finn stepped protectively in front of Peter. “Yes. Why does that concern you?” The creature shifted on his feet. He opened his mouth but before he could answer, he was interrupted by a loud noise. “ZAP!” Yelled Peter as he suddenly pointed his finger sharply at the creature. The creature did something extremely quickly with his hands, and he seemed to shudder violently for a moment. Peter stared at his finger expectantly, like he expected a bolt of lighting to come out and fry the creature. Peter shrugged. I guess humans aren’t magical then.” He said, sounding slightly disappointed. Finn stared a him. “What?” “Well, because the creature there was shifting on his feet when he found out I was human, I guessed that humans had an edge over him or something. So I did that to test my theory. I expected a bolt of lighting to come out and fry the creature. But apparently not.” Suddenly, the creature quickly leapt away and a bolt of lightning appeared right where Peter’s fingers had been a few seconds earlier. The bolt vaporised a nearby rock. Peter examined his fingers for a few seconds in amazement. His frown turned into a smile as he began shooting lightning bolts in rapid fire. “How are you doing it?” Gasped Finn. The creature had to jump out of the light, and now he was no longer silhouetted. He could hear a rifling sound, like a noisy indoor fan. It was the sound he had heard in the vision, and it was louder than ever now. “When the little rat time travelled through my library, he was touched by my powers. He seems to have stolen some, and now he’s using it against meeoooof!” The creature’s sentence was cut short by one of Peter’s thunderbolt’s finding its mark. The creature was catapulted backwards, head over heels, and slammed into the rock face. The creature obviously did not appreciate this and shouted at Peter angrily. “Right. Thunderbolt this, you stupid little ant!” He then clicked his claws. Suddenly, The Great Unknown, still shrouded in its black cape of mystery, appeared. Peter immediately focused on The Great Unknown, desperately trying to drive it back. The creature had now retreated further into the library, and was now generating some sort of glowing orb. It was spinning extremely fast, getting bigger as the creature opened its arms more. It was a dark blue with a dark yellow centre, and seemed to glow with a black aurora. Suddenly, the creature fully widened its arms, shooting the orb out with alarming speed. It surged towards Peter. He quickly shot a bolt of lightning at the it. It repelled the orb and sent it hurtling back towards the creature. The creature’s eyes widened as the orb exploded against his face. KABOOM!!! The explosion spread to the Great Unknown, the trench, and finally, the submersible. Peter was catapulted across the ocean floor. Finally, he stopped. He was lying on his back, and even though he was slowly dying, he felt somewhat… peaceful. He saw the The Great Unknown, swimming around, free of the horrible shroud of darkness of the creature’s mind control. His skin was a dreamy blue colour, and he looked a bit like a mosasaur, a marine reptile from the cretaceous period. In turned around, and Peter could have sworn on his life that it smiled at him. It swam away, humming out a mournful but happy song. Peter could hear his heart slowly stopping. Buh dup, buh dup, buh dup, went his heart. Buh dup… buh dup… … buh… dup. Chapter XII Then, Peter felt something on his body. It seemed to be crawling up. It was a strange, yellow glowing goo. His heart started pumping healthily again. Then… He gasped in a huge gulp of air, probably the biggest in his life. He was just outside where he had found the library in the first place. Where he had escaped the bullies. It was raining. Specks of water riddled his face. But he didn’t feel afraid. He slowly sat up and rose to his feet. He looked around himself and smiled. But his brief moment of mirth was shattered by the sound of heavy shoes on pavement. Peter sighed and turned around, already knowing what he was going to see. A small gang of teenage bullies. The biggest, pimpliest looking one stepped forward and drew his fist back. Peter raised an arm to protect himself, and an extremely powerful gust of wind flew out of his hand and knocked the bully over. The bully got up and, along with his friends, began a barrage of punching and kicking. But they were all simply blown back by the wind. Eventually, Peter got bored of watching the bullies get knocked over like skittles, and decided to lightly fry them with a thunderbolt. Not enough to really hurt them, but enough to send them scampering across the road. Peter smiled and walked away. The bullies couldn’t hurt him. Nothing could hurt him. Not even the absence of friends could hurt him. Because he did have friends. Three very special ones. Two friends that were in a critical but stable condition at the Atlantis Hospital, and one quite new one. One that was ginormous, had lots of teeth, and could sing the most beautiful, tuneful songs. But he could never see those three friends again. But he could. But how could he? Because he had a magical library that he could summon with a snap of his fingers. The End. (∩🌔 ͜ʖ🌔)⊃━☆ﾟ.*

The cook betrayed us, she was a witch, she is a threat to us all, she must walk the plank. My crew tied her hands together, now she wouldn’t be able to use her magic against us. I took out my cutlass and pointed it at her. She backed along the plank, fear in her eyes, she was afraid, and I knew why, I was Henrietta Carlton, the most feared pirate of all time. Standing on the chest of drawers, stood Amelia, my favourite doll, smiling her painted-on smile in her most cook-like clothes, I smiled back at her and put my stick down. I skipped over to my bed, Tony, the golden house mouse, and my only friend was chattering away, he was actually squeaking, but chattering sounds cooler. I knew he was hungry. “Why don’t we visit the kitchens, the cooks must be sound asleep already.” Through the corridor, down the stairs, and then I stopped, in the dining hall, there were voices. I leaned closer to hear what they were saying, “Miss Henrietta and I will be covering Pirates next in her history lessons.” Miss Hallen’s unmistakable posh-accented voice said quietly. “Very well, will Henrietta have to leave the house for these lessons?” There, that was the question asked in every meeting with my tutor, and I knew why, for some reason my whole family had to follow the same nonsense rule, “Don’t leave the house”. “Uhhhhh, I already know everything about pirates, their mean and evil. And they make people walk the plank for no reason. I’d probably be learning something much more interesting if they sent me to an actual school with actual friends.. No offense Tony.” I whispered over my shoulder. At last, after what felt like ten hours of walking, the warm light of the kitchen came to view, “You going in first,” then I add after Tony gives me a questioning look, “because they won’t notice you if they haven’t gone to their bedchambers yet.” Tony squeaked in agreement and scurried into the kitchens, when no shouting or banging of rolling pins could be heard, I went in too. Smells good and bad, race into my nose as I step into the yellow light of the kitchens. Most of them from dinner. I look around at the tables, where usually I’d find a slice of bread or a half-full bowl of soup, but tonight the tables were spotless, not even a crumb was left on them. “Well Tony, I guess we’ll have to make our own feast tonight.” All at once, we’re hurrying around the room to find the cooking materials to make a meal. Back to the table, we had only managed to grab two things, only one of which could be useful. I’d found a cookbook that looked millions of years old, and Tony only managed to carry one tablespoon. “I think that we’ll be able to find something in here.” I say, turning the first brown page of the book, Tony gave a squeak of agreement and peered over the thick pages of the old cookbook. We’d gone over the 500 pages of the old cookbook ten times when we found a recipe that looked delicious, A raspberry crumble. On the corner of the wood coloured page was a scribbled handwriting saying, My favourite treat, Please Try. Arcelia Carlton “Looks like one of my ancestors was a cook.” I turned to Tony, who just stared at me and squeaked. Away I went to the cupboard where I’d found the book, and took out an equally old-looking frying pan. “Don’t worry,” I say before Tony has a chance to squeak in disgust, “It is perfectly clean.” Warmth filled the little kitchen as I threw more wood into the stove. The pan sat on top, raspberries sizzling with heat. “Tony, look I’m going to flip the pan!” With no answer from Tony, which I knew he meant no, I flipped the pan. “Ahh!! The pan nearly fell as a tingly feeling crawled up my arm. Guessing it was only the heat, I flipped the pan again, the same tingle crawled its way up my other arm. Still thinking it was just the heat, I did it again. Suddenly the room was black and it felt as if I was buried in ice. All the sounds I’d heard before were gone, the sizzling of the pan, the occasional squeak from Tony. I was in a nowhere. The nowhere was cold, but as soon as I was in it I was out. I heard the sea before I felt it, the loud mixture of seabirds and waves crashing all mixed together in one sound. Then as soon as the chill of the nowhere dissolved into the beaming warmth of the sun, I was plunged straight back into it. The piercing pain of the ice-cold water parelised me, I was drowning. Unable to move, I sank down slowly, I knew it was a dream, it had to be. One second I was cooking a delicious dessert in my home kitchens, the next I was sinking to my death. I couldn’t panic, I couldn’t swim, I couldn’t breathe. The pain was excruciating like ten knives poking into me at once, if the ocean didn’t kill me, then whatever was on my foot would. I opened her mouth to scream, but a huge gulp of water swam in instead. I thrashed around the pain in my foot growing at every small movement I made. “Tis a big one! A feast Cap’ain” A muffled voice from above the sea shouted as I was pulled upwards, the fleas on my foot ripping. Water rushed past me as the warmth of the air wrapped me up like a blanket. “Er, Cap’ain, that ain’t no fish.” The pain in my foot disappeared as my head slammed straight into the wooden boards of a pirate ship. There were screams and gasps all around me as I stood up, beneath me was a puddle of bright red liquid, Blood, I guessed, yet I'd never seen it before. “What’s happnin’!” The loud voice was strong and most around her, backed away to make way for the man. When he was finally visible to Henrietta’s eyes, she gasped. He wore long baggy pants, and a long red leather coat. On his belt was a cutlass, Etta tried not to think of what terrible thing that blade could have done. The man looked me up and down, piercing blue eyes staring straight through my soul. His long dirty hair tied up in a ponytail, coming loose. “What you doin’ on ‘The Dragonsong’?” The man spoke again, voice cold and menacing. I opened my mouth to respond then shut it. I didn’t know what I was doing on ‘The Dragonsong’, or why I was in the middle of the ocean. After six seconds with no response, the man raised his cutlass, “Chuck ‘er!” A roar of agreement sounded from the other members of the crew, I probably looked like the strangest person to them. It was the middle of the day and I was wearing a nightdress, and they were all wearing old-fashioned sailor clothes. Then the man who’d fished me from my watery death, picked me up and held me over the side of the ship. With nothing to lose, I spoke, “There was a pan and a cookbook, that I think belonged to Arcelia Carlton, and-and I think it was a portal …” but before she could continue, the man who everyone called Captain ordered the fisher to lower her. “Take her down to the boy! Quickly, before she escapes!” Two of the crew members grabbed me by the arms, grubby hands squeezing me tightly. I didn’t bother crying for help, no one there would have a kind enough heart. Below decks the smell of rotting fish made me feel faint. “In!” Before I could think I was tossed into a damp room. “Hallo.” Staring down at her was a boy, with dark bronze curls as hair, and big round eyes. He smiled at me. He looked so familiar, like I’d seen them before, “Father?” I say The boy stared at me in confusion, “I’m ten.” I sat up disappointed, the boy looked so much like Father. “My name's Thomas, and I believe you’re not from this time either.” Now it’s my turn to stare in confusion, what did he mean, I was in 2001 wasn’t I? Thomas stared back at me, and almost like he was reading my mind he said, “No, you’re not in - well - you’re not in whatever time you came from. You’re in sometime in the 1600s on a Pirate ship. I shuffle around on the damp floor. So many thoughts rushing through my head, “Did I time travel?” Thomas nodded, and I cried. There was no way back, I was stuck on a Pirate ship with a bunch of evil villainous Pirates. I must’ve cried myself to sleep because the next thing I remembered was Thomas, the boy who looked so much like my Father, was shaking me awake. At first I thought it was Mother, waking me up after I’d slept in and missed my morning lessons with Miss hallen. Bu, no, when I opened my eyes, I was met with the extremely familiar face of Thomas. I sighed and sat up ready to listen to whatever boring thing he had to say. He shuffled over to a corner, cleared his throat and spoke, like a politician at a press conference, “Arcelia is going to be thrown overboard, well, walk the plank. And we’re meant to go watch, before we go overboard too.” I stared at him, thoughts swirling my head, I never knew pirates ever made people walk the plank, this would be interesting to watch. I wonder who Arcelia is? And why does that name sound so familiar? Then a thought came to me, “Arcelia Carlton” I whispered under my breath. Thomas nodded, “Yup! My Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Great Grandma.” “Thomas Carlton?” I ask, could Thomas be the twin my father always talked about, the one who went missing when he was ten. It would explain the similarities between them.. Thomas nodded. I gasped. “I’m Etta, well my actual name Henrietta, but my full name is Henrietta Carlton, I’m your niece.” Now it was Thomas’s turn to gasp. Ten minutes later, after I’d answered all Thomas’s questions about his twin, Edward, my father, two pirates barged open the door, “You're needed on deck!” They came into the cabin and gripped both our arms and dragged us up the stairs and into the warm sea air on deck. The scene was like one I’d never seen before. All the crew, 14 pirates, were gathered around the captain. The woman who I thought was Arcelia was crying like no pirate I’ve ever heard of. That’s when the two pirates who had brought us to the deck let go, red marks were left on our arms. Then the pirate tradition began. The captain stood on a crate, his cutlass pointed at Arcelia, “She betrayed us, she’s a witch, she must walk the plank!!!” The crew roared in agreement. “Tied her hands, so she can’t do her magic!” ordered the captain, and then five of the crew ran to get rope. Once Arcelia’s hands were tied, the captain pushed her along the plank, cutlass pointed at her heart. She backed along the plank, fear replacing the tears in her eyes, she was afraid I had to do something. “STOP!!!!!” I cried, everyone turned. All their grim yellow-toothed smiles are fading. “What are you doing?” Thomas hissed from the crate he was sitting on. “Trust me.” I replied, then turned to the pirates in front of me. “Arcelia Carlton isn’t a witch!” the pirates gasped at my words, “Arcelia had nothing to do with her frying pan send me and Thomas back in time! Arcelia didn’t know that 400 years after this day, her descendants would find her frying pan and cook her favourite meal. She is not a witch!” That’s when I fainted. I woke to the warm sweat smell of Arcelia’s favourite meal, and Tony’s panicked squeaking, I was home, in my kitchen, back to the boring life I’d lived before. I trodded up to my bedroom, I had just had the most fun in my life, and now it was gone. “Etta, darling, it’s time for school.” School? “Since when did I go to school?” I ask sitting up to face Mother. “Since you were five, come on, you’re going to be late, Celia’s waiting.” “Who’s Celia?” “Your cousin, now come one, get ready.” Mother left the room, leaving me to myself. I had changed history, I had a cousin, I went to school. I jumped out of bed and hopped into my school uniform. It was beautiful. I wondered downstairs, where a girl about my age was laughing as a man, identical to Father, bounced her up and down on his knee. I squealed, “Uncle?’ The man nodded and smiled at me. He dropped the girl and she laughed like a monkey. “You two okay to go to school today.” Me and the girl nodded, and left the house. As we reached the gate, Father jumped out of a bush and kissed me and the girl on the forehead. “Etta, try to do well on the test today and Celia,” He turned to the girl, “Try to act normal today, we’ve had many complaints.” Then he opened the gate, and I was free. TWENTY YEARS LATER … I stepped to the stage to receive my 7th award this month, and I knew why, I was Henrietta Carlton, the greatest pirate historian of all time