From Esfandiar C. Hale's contest: Yet Another Picture Prompt
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡngoYvjh43R
Stella awoke from her slumber up in the treehouse when she heard the sound of crickets trilling nearby. Her eyes flickered up and down as they met the moonlit, indigo sky. It was far too early for her to be awake, but hearing the crickets made her form a small smile. They were a sign of good luck. She hadn’t heard crickets in ages.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡpdVVZxefHm
Something pulsed next to her. Something flooded with blazing light. She sat up and steadied herself, yawning deeply. Then, turning her head to the right, her eyes immediately widened. The flames in her magic lantern burned as powerful as ever, blinking wildly as if someone was on the other side, signaling for help. Stella extended her arm and grasped the handles. The blinking eased.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOimvsRhw7g
“Who’s there?” she asked the lantern. At that moment, she realized how cold her environment was, especially because the treehouse was so exposed, and her dress was uncomfortably thin.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxM9GXDN5Ok
The lantern spoke. Not with words, but with swift surges of light. It glowed twice, then stopped. “M,” she mumbled. Three times, then stopped. “O.” Once, then stopped again. “T.” It emitted four short beats. Then another short beat after that. Finally, it released a short, then long, then short pulse and gradually dimmed. Vanished.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ63XJYCdIWJ
Stella, having already learned the lantern’s language, jumped giddily. The lantern spelled out MO-T-H-E-R. She was sure of it.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVIDCRYbXRB
She hadn’t heard from her mother in a long time. Specifically, two years. And now, her mother wanted Stella to find her.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0vhhUEGOu9
“If that’s really you that’s calling, Mother,” she whispered, “then I’m coming to find you.”
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5KcPLob5If
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmKmdCY7sQO
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbzClxn1aj9
Stella’s magic lantern had been passed down for generations. It started with her great-great-great-great-great grandfather, who was an artisan. Her mother used to tell tales about him before she tucked her into bed with a night kiss. He, Taveon, built everything from children’s toys to women’s jewelry, from flower vases to cutting knives. He was the most skilled and known craftsman in the village. One afternoon, he purchased a pouch of magic gold dust that he had mistaken for salt. The same night, he poured the salt into his dinner, and was taken aback when he realized it wasn’t. He threw the pouch on the floor, spilling its contents, thinking he was scammed with sand. Little did he know, as he went to sleep that night, the wind flurried through the windows, sweeping the dust into the corner of one of his unfinished projects — the two wooden lanterns. Now, Stella and her mother had one. They used them to communicate.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTE6rPJD6gq
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAKoiypVgn2
Stella loved that story, mostly because of how her mother told it. She would speak in a low, mysterious tone when she talked about magic, gesturing with her hands as she talked. She’d even make realistic noises, like the sound of crickets chirping the next day when Taveon woke up. Her mother could imitate sharp footsteps, thunder, and the sound of the autumn breeze, which would send thrilling shivers up Stella’s spine.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIqR1kIYLeP
Her mother’s voice made it so much more magical.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7IgJxP8Fuc
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡD0piDNnySH
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLvh1mLKaEz
The glow of the stars somehow made Stella feel warmer. The wide, navy sky somehow comforted her, like a tender, familiar embrace.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡt88WYiJQS6
“Mother,” she said gently, gazing at her lantern. “I’m here. I’m here, Mother.”
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxMel8kivYm
The lantern didn’t respond. It was dead silent.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1Jt60pJAmd
Stella took off her slippers and trod further north. It was faster that way, and her feet were much freer.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡoo0LDkHdTk
“Mother?” Her voice cracked and echoed.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbmPK5FWoTr
Her strength did not decrease any less than what she had to begin with. The stars gave her hope. Stella breathed in the air; a briny odor shot up her nostrils, mixed with seaweed.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVO96IynCn4
She was smelling the sea.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡv08NXZdgMg
The lantern suddenly buzzed with light. Her mother was there. Stella could sense her presence.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmvXPGeYpDq
She hovered the lantern over her head and squinted.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaXbk0cduMC
The lantern pulsed violently. She stepped forward.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0cSN4rGVKn
Warmer. She took another few steps. Her feet brushed against the cool water.
Warmer. Stella’s ankles were soaked. She wiggled her toes to keep them from numbing.
Warmer. Her knees submerged.
Even warmer. The hem of her dress was drenched.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVOW0S5V3cx
But Stella, with barely any traces of uncertainty, stared at the lantern, now being held at shoulder level. Four swift beats. Once. Stella focused on the rhythm as her mother continued to communicate.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡM4kknBjASa
H-E-R-E.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡz9Oo0PbVU0
Then, at that moment, that exact second, a little star fell and landed on her head.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfEZG2jB4PH
She slowly reached to pick it up, startled.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVaFRM8P7kF
It wasn’t a star. It was a firefly, glowing in the same rhythm as the message her mother sent. Then flew dozens, hundreds of them, surrounding Stella, like gleaming orbs from heaven. For a second she forgot that she was knee-deep in the bitter, freezing ocean.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnmfM5neinY
Because Stella was flying. Flying above the water, her feet no longer touching the sea. Her dress wavered behind her like a cape. She was no longer trembling. No longer afraid. Both her arms were outstretched in the air, trying to get ahold of the fireflies. Trying to grasp the light that led Stella to her mother.
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIRsiyQ6URg
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhPkicHQziK
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAlIGqytvhp
381Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTEN4y6hI2p
This was where her mother was all along. It was her home.
In the stars.
ns216.73.216.155da2
