Creative Writing Club Contest Winner: Dandelion Sugar
By Keziah H.
Untitled by Contributor + Projects Created in Canva
This month, we had our spring themed fantasy writing contest! Two amazing writers submitted stories, and now the winner has finally been announced! It was a close competition, but the winning story was Dandelion Sugar!
Read it here:
Dandelion Sugar
“Do you like dandelion sugar?”
I looked up from the murky depths of my tea, startled. The other dinner guests were prattling over plates of roasted peacock and sliced starfruit. I was the only person invited who didn’t know anyone else–an unfortunate scenario, seeing as everyone else seemed to have been friends for decades. I had been staring at my tea like it was the most interesting thing in the world and toying with my fork, hoping desperately that it would end….
“No?” I put my fork down. “I mean, I don’t know. I didn’t know it existed.”
The stranger across from me gave me a slow, easy smile. He had wild ginger hair that reached his chin, freckled skin tanned by the sun, and gentle brown eyes. A pair of round glasses perched atop his crooked nose. As we made eye contact, a little of the tension left me.
“Most people don’t,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Theo. Are you the famous poet everyone’s been talking about?”
I blushed as I returned the shake (being careful to keep my elbow above the meat platter). “My pleasure. I’m Joanna, and I wouldn’t call myself famous.”
Theo chuckled. “Ah, you’re a humble one. I like that.”
There was a brief pause, punctuated with the clink of glasses and the buzz of conversation.
“So, how did you end up here?” I asked.
“I’m a versipella,” he said casually, offering me a plate laden with strips of dried fruit. “Have you tried the Dalmuthan mango? It’s magnificent.”
My mind spluttered to a halt. “Are you serious?”
“I understand–the flavor is a little strong.” Theo set the plate down. “I sometimes prefer the starfruit myself.”
“No, not the mango,” I corrected, leaning forward. “You’re a versipella?”
“Yes,” he said calmly–as if we were talking about the color of his hair or his outfit.
My thoughts raced as I tried to play it off. I dabbed my lips with my napkin.
“Oh, uh, okay.” I’m royally failing at this, I thought, feeling miserable.
Theo impaled a slice of mango on his fork. “Don’t worry. I won’t turn into a beetle,” he said kindly. “I try not to shift out of my human form at parties. It throws off the dynamic.”
“Good,” I managed to say.
I could tell Theo wanted to laugh, but he ducked his head and kept quiet. The small gesture emboldened me. He was clearly a good-tempered person, and he had only been friendly so far. It wasn’t his fault I’d never met a versipella, and it certainly wasn’t his fault I was bad at dinner conversations. I plucked up the strength to ask, “Are your parents shapeshifters too?”
“My father and his brother are, and my mother isn’t,” he replied, nibbling delicately at the mango. “I suspect my son Hazel may turn out to be.”
“Is your wife here?” I asked, perking up at the thought of a female companion.
“Oh, I’m not married. Hazel’s adopted,” Theo said fondly, “but I love him like my own blood.”
“I see.” I cocked my head, intrigued. “I don’t mean to pry, but you seem a bit young to raise a child.”
Theo grinned. “I’m flattered! I need to tell my sister you said that. She thinks I’m ancient.”
My cheeks warmed. I’d forgotten that versipella, as well as shifting forms, don’t age at the same rate as normal humans. Was I sitting across the table from a two-hundred-year-old? That was part of the drawback of dealing with shapeshifters; it was hard to tell anything from appearances.
“Theo, they’re here!”
A young woman (or so I thought; I wasn’t sure anymore) popped up from the shadowy corners of the dining room and yanked out a chair next to my companion. She plopped down, cheeks rosy, disheveled black curls sticking every which way. I liked her instantly.
“This is my sister, Isabelle,” Theo said, ruffling her hair. She swatted his hand away playfully. “We normally sneak away from these parties around this time. Want to come with us?”
“Where?” I looked from brother to sister, mystified. “And who are ‘they’?”
“Ah, that’s what you’ll have to wait and see,” Isabelle said, wagging a finger at me. “I don’t know you, but I get the feeling you’re adventurous. You’ll like it.” With that, she leapt from her seat and, dragging Theo by the arm, guided him from the expansive room and toward the hallway. I couldn’t help but follow.
Passing men in trailing embroidered robes and women in evening gowns, we made our way through vast rooms, down step, step, steps, between people, around corners and (at last!) out the back door. Then stepped out into a sprawling garden. In the distance rolled vast, hilly fields with a hazy white hue. It looked as if a dense fog had settled on them. As I watched, I saw lights flickering in and out in the pale cloud–like giant fireflies coming to and fro. The sun had just set and both moons were high in the sky, reminding me why I was at the party. It was the Spring Solstice, the day our smaller moon Kanna appeared beside her sister Kor.
“It’s lovely, isn’t it?” Theo asked, nudging me.
“Yes,” I responded, breathtaken.
“Great. Now for the surprise–but first to get there.” Isabelle cocked her head. “What kind of creatures do you generally ride?”
“I prefer dragons,” I replied, then yelped. “Goodness! I didn’t think it would happen so fast!”
The Isabelle-dragon stretched its sleek black neck to the sky, eyes gleaming. It folded its legs and lay in the grass. I climbed atop its sturdy shoulders, and seated myself behind its head. With a grunt, the slender reptile leapt into the air and climbed high. I twisted my head over my shoulder and saw a lithe ginger dragon in pursuit. It caught up to us easily. Turning over, it seized the Isabelle-dragon by the paws and dragged her down in a spiral, then released her. The Isabelle-dragon growled. I laughed.
The stars twinkled overhead and Kanna and Kor smiled down on us as we sped onward, the grass rippling in the wind from the dragons’ wings. To my amazement, as we descended into the “cloud”, I saw what I had taken for fog was actually…plants. A field of giant dandelions waved up at us. Bees bigger than bloodhounds buzzed as they browsed the blossoms. As they moved they kicked up fluffy seeds, sending them floating away on the spring breeze.
The dragons dropped right into the peaceful scene. They landed and I rolled off the Isabelle-dragon’s back. The dandelions towered over my head. In the blink of an eye the dragons vanished to reveal the two siblings. I had only known them for minutes, but as we stood there giggling I realized we were now friends.
“These bees only come and feed here at the Spring Solstice,” Theo explained while I looked around in wonder. “They scatter seeds that grow into saplings. In seven days tea masters come to root them up, then mash out the sap and boil it down to sugar.”
“So that’s why you asked me about dandelion sugar,” I crowed. “You wanted to take me here.”
Isabelle spun around on her heel. “We discovered this place ten years ago, and we’ve been sneaking here ever since. Theo’s always hoped to bring a kindred spirit to come along, and he got his wish tonight.”
All the awkwardness and tension of the dinner faded from me as I gazed at the dandelions swaying in the breeze. The melodious humming of the bees filled my ears and seeped down into my bones, and stayed there all the way back to the mansion. When we-rentered, we found everyone saying their goodbyes in the grand entrance hall. Carriages were picking guests up at the front.
“This was wonderful,” I said, a huge smile stretched across my face.
“It was! We need to spend more time together,” Theo agreed. He twisted his head over his shoulder. “Father’s here to bring us home, but you’re always welcome at the palace.”
I don’t know how I failed to understand him. Halfway down the steps, it struck me. At that moment, I looked up (I tended to walk with my eyes on the ground) and froze.
Our king, who had been engaged in chatter with my two new friends, turned to me. “So you must be Joanna! My children have been saying the most wonderful things about you.”
I couldn’t think of a thing to say. Of course I’d known our ruler had children; it’s just that they traveled so often I’d never seen them before. The expression on my face must have been funny: as I scoured my brains for the proper way to address a monarch, I saw the family trying hard not to laugh.
“Come over to tea,” Isabelle said gently. “Tomorrow.” She turned to her father. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not,” he said warmly.
Theo’s eyes sparkled like stars. He cast me a sly glance. “Tea with dandelion sugar?”