Today we are featuring Inklings Book Contest 2020 finalist, Lauren Lin! Lauren finished 8th grade this past school year. The story she submitted is called “A Moon in a Starless Sky”  Our judges loved Lauren’s use of metaphor.

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“I assume you have all read chapters seven through twelve and took notes to the best of your ability,” Ms. Anderson said as she scanned the room with her unmistakable, sharp eyes. She was a slight woman with greying short hair that fell with rigid pristineness. Her clothes were immaculately creased, and her eyes were as keen and piercing as a hawk’s. They found every dull pencil, every blackened eraser, every crinkled paper, but saved their vigilance for every anxious student. Luna paled and held her frayed notebook beneath her desk. If Ms. Anderson did not see it, she might be discouraged from calling on her.

Ms. Anderson’s gaze darted to Aiden and Spencer. Their smug expressions faded in an instant.

“I see we have two gentlemen in our classroom who do not have the decency to pay attention and find it more important to smirk at one another,” she said as she slunk towards them. Her spindly arms folded with distinctive disapproval.

“Isn’t that right?” She glared down at them. They remained silent.

Ms. Anderson released them from her scowl and surveyed the rest of the class. “I know many of you believe taking notes is unnecessary and ridiculous, but I assure you, the simple task will foster a far better understanding of the literature. It will also assist you more than anything in your upcoming writing assignments.” The class delivered a near silent groan.

Ms. Anderson pursed her lips, but seemingly resolved to let the disturbance go. “Surely one of you must have taken notes.” Everyone immediately turned away. Luna followed the strategy she’d devised: staring at the lined patterns of wood on her desk with her head slightly raised to demonstrate that she was still paying attention. She was careful not to raise it quite enough to indicate that she wanted to be called upon. Sure, she’d taken notes, but sharing that fact would give the others reason to think she was a teacher’s pet and would further solidify her place as an outsider. The thought lingered. Tracing the lines with her left fingers, she was careful to conceal the notebook and her palm beneath the desk.

“Luna,” Ms. Anderson’s voice reverberated through her mind as she winced. She caught Eilana’s dyed blue hair twirl as she turned to whisper with her usual followers, whose hair was painfully identical. Their whispers were evidently not in support of her. Ms. Anderson glided towards her desk. Luna gulped.

“Did you take notes, Miss Elverwood?” Ms. Anderson’s voice instantly silenced the girls.
“I-I…,” Luna’s glance flitted briefly to Aiden, Spencer, Eilana, and her loyal group of followers before anxiously returning to Ms. Anderson. Her mind felt like it was running a marathon. Whispers were thrown and traveled like wind. The room hummed with anticipation as her classmates excitedly awaited the entertainment. As soon as they were no longer targets of Ms. Anderson’s attention, they seemed to forget how it felt. Luna tried to ignore the twinge of hurt and resentment.
“Well?” Ms. Anderson’s voice did not hold patience.

She could not stall any longer. Eilana narrowed her eyes. Luna felt her teacher’s cold stare bristle the hair on her neck as she grasped her shirt sleeve with her right hand and drew the notebook out.

“May I?” This, of course, was not a question.

Luna tried not to appear defeated as she nodded. Ms. Anderson flipped through her pages of notes for all the class to see. Luna swallowed; there were three pages in total. To the others, three pages too many. Ms. Anderson settled on a particular page and held it aloft. Luna shrunk into the back of her seat.

“Do you all see? This is my expectation. Comprehensive, thoughtful notes and observations. For example…” Luna’s eyes widened; she didn’t know Ms. Anderson would read them. They were her private notes. She opened her mouth in protest, but nothing escaped her.

Dread blossomed in her stomach as she felt the symbol on her right palm begin to warm. Panic flooded her mind. She knew what she’d find, yet she glanced at her palm to see it flickering with a dim light.

No. Not now. Please.

Luna inhaled deeply and tried to think of something else, anything else to find calm. Now, of all times, her palm could not attract attention. She quickly clasped her hands together to stifle the arriving light.

Please.

Ms. Anderson cleared her throat and began.

“‘Nora interprets everything in colors. She sees her environment and world as blues, yellows, and reds constantly integrating with one another, yet she sees herself as a murky gray that stands in solitude. I think she feels alone and different, apart from everyone else, like me-’” Ms. Anderson’s breath caught on itself. For the first time in her academic career, Luna found remorse and guilt in the stoic teacher’s eyes.

Every pair of eyes found Luna’s. Her cheeks flushed to a deep crimson. She averted her gaze and slid her copy of Nora’s Painting away from her to the edge of the desk. She needed to show detachment from the book. She felt a small pang of bitterness for Ms. Anderson, who had not been required in any way to read her personal notes. Warmth stirred in her palm, and she swiftly folded her hands together. She focused on her breath and ignored the stares. Ms. Anderson turned to Luna.

“I apologize,” Ms. Anderson’s voice was soft and grave, but she did not elaborate.

She returned the notebook and continued the lesson, but Luna felt the stare of at least one person consistently throughout the class. Luna glued her eyes to her taunting watch. Just hold on, she told herself.

She tried to distract herself with schoolwork. But one thing nagged insistently at her. She closed her eyes and fingered the circular symbol on her palm as she sank into thought. The image it held was ingrained in her memory, though she tried to avoid seeing it as much as possible. Two strands of stars twisted and intertwined at various points, creating a pattern that resembled vines wrapped around an invisible column. Behind the stars was an expanse of ebony waves. The image was captured in a circle about the size of a dollar coin.

It had been so long since she’d lost control and emitted light through the stars. She’d developed a system of curling her sleeves over her hands and was luckily left-handed. It was important to conceal both hands so as to appear to simply have a habit. When use of her right hand was absolutely necessary, she held the sleeve over her palm with her thumb. She kept a tallied record of all the days she’d lasted without glowing. Luna sighed. She’d have to erase every marking now.

Her palm only glowed when her emotions rose, but living normally while restraining them was nearly impossible. Unfortunately, Eilana and her “friends” seemed to carry a suspicion for her, and her palm yearned to ignite around them. Their whispers and pointed expressions followed her constantly, and compelled her to feel self-conscious and tense. Eilana invariably pinned her searing dark eyes on Luna, as if she were challenging her to do something. Luna avoided them whenever possible.

As much as her mother might have insisted, Luna knew she wasn’t normal. People just weren’t born with glowing palms and star symbols. Her mother was silent when Luna had asked whether there were others like her, and she had interpreted that to mean no. Homeschooled for the majority of her life to conceal her palm, she’d learned that to be an indisputable fact. She and her mother agreed that transitioning to regular school in fifth grade would be best. She’d lasted a year and three-quarters of schooling without any major suspicion, but everyday had been a struggle. No other soul knew about her palm, and Luna was determined to keep it that way.

Not a day passed that Luna didn’t fantasize about a life where she was just like everyone else, like Zoe, or Alina, or Aiden, or even Eilana, though she’d never admit it. Luna almost felt singled out, alone, the one person in the entire world to be tainted this way. There was no science behind her palm, and no reason she’d been told to explain it. When her mother had described that Luna was different because of her branded palm, she had stunned Luna by whispering a word they never uttered: magic. Luna had stumbled and stammered as she tried to ask the millions of questions that had multiplied in her mind. However, there was still very little she understood. They rarely discussed her palm, and her mother had a tendency to veer around the subject and become withdrawn or irritable if it surfaced. Her mother had given cryptic, incomplete answers to the questions, and the conversation was the only time magic was ever mentioned. The word itself was exiled from the Elverwoods’ vocabulary. When Luna had asked why, her mother had given the mere reason of it being “for the best”.

What was certain, however, was that she wanted nothing to do with magic and would instantly trade almost anything to rid herself of it. It was of no use to her. Her palm had not shown any capabilities besides becoming an unstable flashlight and causing humiliation for her.

Luna’s cheeks flushed as she watched Will nudge his friend and point at her out of the corner of her eyes. She sighed. The best way to avoid glowing was to place her mind elsewhere, and Luna was tired of thinking about it.

She slouched in her rigid seat for the rest of class as Ms. Anderson’s words slipped in and out of her mind. The stares remained locked on her during the entirety of class. After an excruciating forty-five minutes, she had never been more thankful for the liberating bell. Luna gathered her things and raced out of the classroom. In her desperation and haste, she did not bother to conceal her hands.

She sprinted to her tucked away corner and backpack, which were located beneath the staircase by the hidden exit. Although she knew full well where her locker was, she never used it. It was naturally located in a convenient spot directly beside Eilana’s.

She checked her watch (3:01) and set an alarm for 3:30. Most people would leave by then, and Eilana and her followers wouldn’t find her. She slid down the stony wall and stared at the decaying, soiled steps and faint, flickering lamp above her. With homework to be done and chores to be completed when she came home, she knew she ought to begin her homework. But she closed her eyes and remained slouched, basking in the comforting silence. No one could stare here. No one could mock or point or whisper. And yet the floor never seemed so cobbled, nor the wall so glacial…

With a deafening ring, her alarm announced 3:30’s arrival and her ability to go home. Luna jolted awake and immediately checked that her palm had been concealed while she’d slept. She chastised herself for drifting to sleep. She wondered whether anyone had seen her. She packed away her things, patted the stony, frigid wall goodbye, slipped her hands into her sleeves, and began the walk home.

She felt a considerable amount of relief when she exited the school gates and stepped onto the concrete sidewalk. A few houses along the first suburban block, she saw curtains of blue hair leaping around a corner. Her eyes widened.

Eilana sauntered ahead of her entourage towards Luna.

“Luna, dear,” Eilana’s hiss was soaked in honey.
“We didn’t see you after school, but we thought we’d finally get to talk here,” She smiled with the charisma of a snake. They knew Luna would be walking home now; she tried as best she could not to take a step backwards.
Luna swallowed. “Talk about what?” She barely withheld a waver in her voice. Was this to tease her about the notes? A feeling deep within her knew it was not.
“We were just wondering about that little palm of yours” Her dark eyes seemed to ignite at the word.

This time Luna couldn’t prevent a gasp from escaping her. She’d tried for so long to be discrete. She should have known Eilana would notice the palm. Her eyes darted between the girls, anything to avoid contact with Eilana’s.

“What do you mean?” She glanced at her carefully crinkled sleeves wrapped in her curled fingers.
Eilana’s eyes focused on Luna’s palm. “Yes, you know exactly what I mean.” She snapped her fingers. Her followers immediately formed an ensnaring circle around Luna at an almost inhuman speed. “You don’t fool me, girl. From the moment you arrived at this school I knew. I knew what you possessed, what you could do. It is actually quite an honor that we’ve extended our stay for so long, but there isn’t another fiorn left. You are the last to have foolishly yet to cross over into our world and also happen to be our precious opportunity.” Her mouth was barely open, yet Luna could hear her painfully well.
“I-I don’t know what you mean.” She tried to remove the quiver in her voice. Something was wrong. This was beyond notes or any school squabble.

Eilana began leaning closer to Luna, closing any minimal gap there may have been before.

“Why else have you never worn a T-shirt? Why else would you always conceal your hands? Why else would I ensure that I had a locker next to yours?”

Luna flinched and cursed herself; she was a fool. But how could Eilana control the location of her locker? She glanced at the circling girls, the twirling cobalt strands that never seemed to rest, the darkened, gray, mourning sky. Focus. She searched for some sort of opening.

“I’m quite disappointed to be honest, Luna. I thought a fiorn would have recognized me. Although, perhaps that’s why you’ve been avoiding me.” Her frigid whisper sent a shiver through Luna’s body. Eilana leaned close enough for Luna to detect the ebony of her pupil, the blue hue of every strand of hair, but she had nowhere to turn. She quickly fumbled her hands into her jean pockets.
“I-I don’t know what you mean.” Luna’s eyes flitted from girl to girl; there was no way out. Keep talking. Keep thinking. “And what’s a fiorn anyway?”

She glanced at all the houses, but not a single soul was present. It was as desolate and forbidding as an enveloping, starless night sky. An ominous chill crept through her spine. Her palm warmed, and she detected a faint, flickering glow. Fortunately Eilana was not looking.

“Don’t feign ignorance with me. They must have told you of the magic you, a fiorn, can wield and the other elemental magic of our world. I know they must have already contacted you. I know you must already have learned of everything.” Her voice was eerily soft and slow, as if it were dancing on silk.

True perplexed confusion met Eilana’s eyes. What other elemental magic? What world? Who were they?

“Really?…I see…” Eilana peered at Luna like she was observing a new tool.
“Master will be pleased,” Zoe muttered. Eilana pursed her lips as her eyes narrowed.
“Fine. I’ll make a deal with you. Let me use your feathal, that symbol you hide so cleverly, and your life may still have a chance. Do not disregard my mercy; this will be the best offer you will ever receive, Luna.” She uttered the name like an incantation.

Dread swept through Luna’s stomach. Her palm heated further and casted a ray of blinding light, tinted by the blue hue of her jeans. Don’t look. You can’t draw their attention there. But don’t make any deals. Her mother always told her to never agree to a deal she didn’t understand.

“I-no. I’m not making any deals with you. But-”

It did not matter what she said. Their eyes all invariably found the light in her jeans. Luna watched in panic; she had never produced such searing luminescence.

Eilana’s eyes widened with the first sign of fear. They steeled when they met Luna’s.

“Get her.”

In a moment’s heartbeat, Luna felt metal bars seize her. Colors swam in her vision in a shower. Blue strands of hair morphed and blurred into long cords of red iron. They retained their shape but were as impenetrable as stone. She gasped as Aubrey and Alina’s hair lengthened into hardened, crimson tendrils that twisted and curled until they restrained her arms completely. The regions surrounding the tendrils lost color from the pressure. She imploringly searched their faces, but they were as distant and cold as her stone wall beneath the steps. Pain sailed across her back and legs as Zoe restrained her shoulders and Karlie restrained her legs from the floor. Luna tried with as much will as she possessed to move, but she felt encased in iron. Her palm ignited as it throbbed and thrashed in her pocket. Alina grabbed her wrist to pull.

“No!” Eilana’s eyes seemed to burn with fury as she all but slapped Alina.
“Iverill, you fool! She is mine. The shield is mine to shatter! If she enters instead, we’ll be trapped here.” Her voice echoed with malice. Luna searched around her for a stranger who could be the Iverill Eilana referred to, but none was found.

Heart thundering, she clutched her jean pocket as tightly as she could, but Eilana grasped her wrist out with ease. Her own hair transformed into draping vermillion strands that tightened around her wrist as she leaned down to whisper. Luna winced in pain.

“I gave you an opportunity, Luna. You may have even lived to see our world. Alas…” Her smile was a vindictive smirk. With her own right hand, Eilana grabbed and clutched Luna’s illuminated palm.

The fingertips that met her palm sent invisible, consuming flames from her wrist to her heart. Excruciating, immobilizing pain lashed a tremble through Luna’s body. She vaguely felt scathing gravel beneath her back as vermillion dots clouded her vision. She couldn’t tell if her eyes were open or shut. Streaks of crimson twisted and contorted swirling doors and window panes in her vision. The houses from the quiet neighborhood disappeared. Flames reached within her and enveloped her blood and bones. Lights flickered in rhythm with her throbbing head and palm. The slap of a wave reverberated in her cavern of distorted senses as her mother’s voice echoed in the distance. Burning pain swam through her body. She saw an ebony raven meet a shower of blinding light.

Everything collided within her.

And then darkness.

Pure, encompassing darkness.

Darkness that was as deadly as it was sheltering.

Hazy lights pierced her eyelids.