The Adventures of Seun and the Triangle of Trees

The sun was at its peak as Seun approached the triangle of trees. Summer was ending, and this brief window was the only time Seun could ask the trees for knowledge. They towered over her, making her feel like an ant. Their branches were still full, but beginning to have the odd dead leaf, a sure sign of the coming autumn. Their bark was clean, no moss or ivy grew around their trunks, and no critter other than the humble squirrel dared climb them. 

As Seun approached the trees she heard them whispering to each other, in a language thought dead, now plain to her ears. She couldn't understand their words exactly, only an ancient such as them could, but she could feel their words deep in her bones. The trees spoke of riches beyond her imagination, the same riches she was unable to obtain. Her guild needed funding, and without it, it would crumble. 

Her friends watched her enter the triangle, talking amongst themselves, hoping to get her danger off their minds. They knew that upon entering that triangle, no one would be able to help Seun in her quest. 

To the average onlooker, all you would see upon her entering would be Seun appearing behind one tree, going behind it, and reappearing behind another, in a cycle that always led back to the largest of the three trees. Suen’s experience, however, would be very different. 

The Triangle brought her to a world above our own, into the realm of beings who can warp time and space to their pleasure, this was the dimension of gods. The trees were trees no longer, but three ageless beings. Only one allowed Seun to see them clearly, the most ancient and powerful of them all. He was large, larger than his tree form, stretching perhaps to the height of both his roots and branches beyond. His head was almost a passing cloud over Seun, casting a shadow over her.  He watched her, with a cold expression, his dark brown eyes being unimpressed with the adventurer before him.

“Who are you?” The tree said.

“I am an adventurer in search of great riches,” Seun said after some time. “Give me your knowledge and I will never return to this land.”

“I did not ask your occupation, nor the reason you were intruding in my land,” the ancient one said with an even tone. “I asked, who you are. I wish to know who exactly I am speaking to.” His eyes seemed to pierce into Seun, absorbing all that he was looking at. His tone implied that he would not take “no” for an answer. 

Seun had heard tales of these beings taking a person's name forever, leaving them a husk of who they were, but as she stared into his godly eyes, that knowledge left her. The memories faded to mist, as if he was a great wind, blowing them away from her mind. She stood there for some time, staring. Never once blinking, not a word uttered, as the world around them faded into something much more eldritch than Seun could comprehend. 

     —

Seun emerged from the triangle, unscathed. Physically at least. She never seemed the same to her friends since the day she went in. She would confuse the names of friends she had known for years. Her memories were jumbled, thinking events that had long passed, or were yet to come, were happening presently. Each day she would return to the triangle, and each day she would come out the same as before, confused and forgetful. No one knows if the Seun that first went in is the same one that came out, but no one dared question the methods of an angered god. 

-Austin

Short Stories - Austin's Take

Stories make up our lives. Without them, would you even know anything about the world around you? The history, the culture, and the life. Short and sweet. The best type of stories are like that. A nice cup of coffee or tea, refreshing and getting one's mind pumping. So this week of all the weeks, I implore you to share your short stories. “About what?” You may ask, about anything! Talk about your day, your week, your month, your year. Talk about all of it or none of it. You are the author of your story, so you must choose what you want to write. Please feel free to talk about something from three days ago, or three years ago, whatever comes to mind and whatever you are most comfortable with. To share these stories with us please email keirasnewsnetwork@gmail.com to possibly be featured in next week's paper. And remember, the truth is yours to be told. 

-Austin

Short Stories - Charlotte's Take

 Short Stories. Fun fact about my friend group and me; we all like writing ‘books’. A fun hobby, huh? Not exactly. Imagine a class essay, more fun (and slightly more encouraging to write), yet also incredibly confusing- it’s like you wake up that day either filled with ideas for your novel, or you wake up with no clue how to continue from where you left off. 

One of the ways to solve that is to just brainstorm it out and let this little bump in the road pass (this is how writers should be doing it), or there are other options (the less mature ones that don’t always result well), like making an entirely new book to rant about, just skipping that part of the story works as well. These, though, result in messy books with many loopholes in the timeline, which yes, it does suck. But that's all we know as middle schoolers, if you get stuck, just move on from it and work on something else. It sounds pretty ridiculous, but it is one of the major problems I have as a writer.

 For example, I have 19 books in process, and I work on them whenever I feel like it. Nineteen… It’s a pretty ridiculous amount, and they all have things about them that make them different from the others. My friends aren’t as bad though, the closest person who gets to my level is one of my best friends (They go by Zo specifically) who has (thankfully) collapsed into a few 3, but before that sudden change, there were more than 20 of them I had to navigate. A little throwback in time though, I started on little dragon stories before I even stepped into the human category (no I didn’t write anything else other than dragons tho), and this was practically the entire year of my sixth-grade experience, I actually only got into writing humans in the last few months before school ended!

 So, in a little summary, creative writing is messy when you don’t have anyone to direct you through it, so if you don’t have a class, a teacher, or someone who’s experienced enough to lead you through- you might crash and burn if you don’t keep yourself in check 24/7.

-Charlotte