Ivy

She wanted to fly with the butterflies that day, to flutter and flit and feel the sun on her wings. So, she put on her best cloak and headed out to the garden.

She wrapped her cloak tight like a cocoon, and she waited.

She waited, feeling happy and warm.

And waited, feeling excited for more.

Noon and East pushed their boat off from the shore. They paddled out to the center of the lake where even the crickets couldn’t be heard. They watched the sun sink from the sky, revealing a sparkling night.

“Which do you think will fall first?” Noon asked.

East shrugged. Then, after a pause, nodded his head toward the rocky north shore. “There,” he said, “by the rocks. See how that one blinks?”

Noon and East watched the star blink…blink…blink.

She’d passed every test, and tonight, she would take the final challenge to become a Light Commander. Tonight, she would make fire in the sky to light up the night. She would be judged on the luminosity, power, and beauty of her craft. This was the most dangerous test but also the most rewarding. Taking a breath to steady her nerves, she watched other recruits wearing identical white flight suits lift off.

“This is where I belong,” she said to herself. “I will be victorious.”

Her music sweeps over the fields like springtime rain and brings color to the land. It happens every year after the frost has gone. Seeds awaken to her song and push their way through the soil.

“Good morning,” he called to the flowers and butterflies. He turned his face toward the sky to greet the sun and clouds when something new caught his eye.

“What’s this?” he thought as he a paw up toward a string dangling from the sky…

The masters had warned her of using magic beyond her years, and she’d promised them (again) that she would keep her wand in the classroom. And she had. It rested all night in the cupboard. On a velvet pillow. Beside the wands of her classmates. Behind a golden lock to which only the masters held the key.