Once & Only Once

“Why, good morning, Ellen!” said the squirrel in his usual chipper voice. “What are you busying yourself with, today?”

"Go choke on an acorn, squirrel,” replied Ellen with fiendish vexation.

Ellen spoke in such an unmistakably rude manner that the squirrel needed a moment to process. How could she tint her words so venomously to such a cute, lovable little creature? Though, he supposed unavoidable verbal harassment was superior to only somewhat-avoidable blunt-force trauma. For a teenager, she sure had upper arm strength.

Ellen gave the squirrel another mean look. She did not have time for this. “I’m doing homework. Not that you would care, squirrel.”

“Kip.”

“Kip, then. What happened to the other guy? Rider?”

Kip stretched his forelegs. “He’s still recovering. I suppose he isn’t ‘available’ for now. Certainly not after what you did, in any case.”

Ellen stopped typing on her laptop and let out a sign. “Oh. Sorry about that.” But in my defense, you guys won’t stop bothering me. She decided to omit that last part.

“No need to apologize,” Kip said. “Some of us are better at dodging than others. Natural selection at its finest.”

Ellen finally forfeited her work – with this pestering critter here, there was no doubt that she would be too distracted to write an essay. Some days, she wished she could just pull the blinds and forget about the squirrels and the rabbits and the deer. Unfortunately, she had nothing that blocked sound. She had considered buying more expensive earbuds, maybe even one of those cool headphones where the microphone protruded from the side like her friend’s, but there was only so much allowance to go through. If there was one thing that she could not negotiate, it was money. Her parents were very firm about the green stuff. Ellen prayed that her mother would be done making dinner soon so she could excuse herself from the woodland critter.

She turned towards the window, which led to a perfectly view of her street blocked by a bushy orange tail. One look at that emotionless face and Ellen knew.

“Nope. No way,” she said, “I am not letting you lead me through one of your wild adventures.”

“What! But they’re so much fun!” Kip exclaimed.

“Yes, I’m sure they are. But they aren’t my cup of tea. Ever since you started talking to me, all these random animals run up to my side and refuse to let me have any peace and quiet. It’s all… Ok, fine, at most, it’s mildly inconvenient. But still, I’d rather you all stop bothering me every week.”

He shook his head. “We can’t exactly talk to anyone else.”

“My answer is a firm no.”

“But Ellen! I haven’t even told you anything yet!”

“Ok, Kip. What are you trying to make me do this time? And please, please stop with the riddles.”

Kip hopped around the windowsill, struggling to contain his excitement. Finally!

He chuckled. “What do you mean? We’re just trying to guide you to your story! Wait, wait, wait, don’t close the window yet! By the stars, children have no patience anymore.”

The girl paused, bringing her hands back to her hips, and Kip relaxed his poor shoulders. Perhaps being coy was not the best response. Not that it was his fault, in any case, for that was what he did best.

Ellen clicked her tongue, a migraine certainly on its way. These creatures were very keen on getting individuals like her to follow their “stories”: random quests, adventures, and whatever for the world, and more importantly, for their Astral, one of infinite stars from which all such privileges and powers bud.

And of course she had no idea what that meant.

Rider claimed that each human – no, every single living being on Earth – was given the power of a single star. Most humans just hadn’t noticed how to tap into the reservoir. A completed story would grant the main navigator, in this case, Mr. Kip, a bountiful reward of both unimaginable yet also unspecified worth; on the other hand, the main actor or actress would be granted greater powers beyond their current state. Based on Rider and Kip’s speculations, it would mean better communication with animals, which to her, left the cost-benefit staggeringly unbalanced.

She was satisfied with bunnies, squirrels, and occasional deer, thank you very much. Contrary to popular belief, she had no interest in what the animals at the zoo were complaining about, nor what the brief flashes of consciousness from the neighbour’s lapdog sounded like. Besides, the whole affair reeked of contractual employment, only Ellen never signed her life away. And she would prefer it stay that way.

Kip’s tail wobbled back and forth, agitated. “You see, there aren’t many like you among the living, Ellen.”

“There won’t be any like you among the living very soon if you don’t get to the point.”

“Um, right.” He stood up on his hind legs, hoping to appear more grandiose. “Ellen, you must embark on a journey to claim what was lost to you. You must face a–”

Ellen began to lean towards the window lever. This squirrel had got to go.

“Y-your parents. You must save your parents from the evil creature that stole them away. The path will open to you if you follow me through the forest next door,” Kip huffed in a hurry.

For a moment, and just for a moment, the gentle, spring breeze whistling outside was the only noise in the room.

“What did you say?” Ellen whispered, brown eyes widening with every breath.

Kip fidgeted with his claws. “Just come with me, Ellen. This will make things so much easier for the two of us.”

Ellen clenched a fist, and his instincts roared at Kip to retreat.

“…Pretty please?”

With a frustrated groan, Ellen turned away from the glass. “…Once. I will participate in your story this one time.”

The rodent was persistent, annoying, and oblivious. But it never lied. Quickly, Ellen began muttering something under her breath, swiftly navigating through her small, yellow-walled room. First, she grabbed the red jacket hanging from the back of her door. Since her growth spurt stopped a few years ago, it had managed to follow her through most of her high school career already. Then, she fiddled around with her school bag, unzipping the largest of its gray compartments. Some supplies would come in handy, as she did not know what sorts of crazy things happened on these “stories”.

“Er, Ellen, I believe we should get going now.”

Ellen glared at him.

“Okay,” the squirrel whimpered.

Her voice shook with worry as she changed into her jeans. “What is your problem – don’t look, turn around – what is your problem involving my parents?! What, would that make me more friendly or submissive? Because if they are even the slightest bit hurt by the time I get there, you’ll have hell to pay.”

Kip crouched down, as if he could melt away into the windowsill. “It’s… Well, I –”

“These are my parents. Innocent people. What is your fascination with these stupid ‘stories’?!” Ellen sighed. “Well, you’ve won this time. I’m going to help you finish a story. But when I find my parents, you’d better hope you’ve done enough for your god, Astral, whatever! Because you’ll need some divine intervention after I’m done with you.”

She grabbed a few hair elastics and maneuvered them around her straight, black hair into a ponytail. She was almost sure she would have to walk, run, crawl, or climb without getting hair in her eyes.

Kip shuddered. “Squirrels only live for a decade at most, Ellen. This stress isn’t good for my poor, little heart.”

“Good.”

“By the stars, this was a mistake.”

Ellen threw her backpack over her shoulder. Perhaps as a last-ditch effort, she called out to her mother, but there was no one to answer.

While Ellen would love to curse the squirrel more, she couldn’t afford to waste any more time. Her parents were gone, and it was a mystery what they were going through right now. If she wanted to, she could curse Kip en route. At the very least, she could preserve some of her freedom.

Making her way down the stairs and to the front door, instead of seeing the lifeless pavement, Ellen was met with a sudden burst of fresh air. In a blink, her surroundings had shifted completely. Dark, gritty trees loomed out from her surroundings. Greenery encroached all but a single, rotten dirt path winding through the forest. A drop of sweat slid down her forehead as she blocked out the hot, afternoon sun, opting to tie her jacket around her waist instead of wearing it. The rest of the forest was shrouded in shadow, leaves tinted a dark gray.

“Kip! You still there?” She shouted.

A high-pitched-but-masculine voice echoed from the distance. “Yes, yes! I am here. I know you’re in a rush, so just follow the path and you’ll be fine. Here, I’ll even conjure you up a weapon.”

“A weapon?”

“You do want to defeat the creature, right? Open up your hand and pretend you’re gripping a kitchen knife.”

With a flash of light, an exquisitely carved knife appeared in Ellen’s hand. Her hand wrapped around the smooth etchings of the handle, and a curved, golden blade shone in the sunlight. If she squinted, it almost appeared as if the knife itself was glowing.

Ellen asked, “Are you not going to follow me? This is your story, isn’t it?”

“Though you’re right about that, I am not an actor in this story – that’s your role.” Kip’s voice resonated through the air.

Great, there was no time to lose. Quickly, Ellen began running down the trail, delicately weaving her body through trees and ducking under the occasional branch.

“Be careful, Ellen, for the creature can only be defeated by someone pure of heart.”

Her footsteps softened. “And that means…?”

“You must prove your worthiness before you may face it,” said Kip. “Luckily for you, I made the path, so you don’t have to worry about that too much.”

“Huh?”

“Look, here comes a troubled soul right now!”

Past a sharp turn, Ellen found herself in a small clearing. The dirt road quickly transitioned into an alternating pattern of dark, earthy peat and clumps of grass, each square no more than a few feet across. She stretched her shoulders a bit as she looked around for this ‘troubled soul’. Almost on cue, a squeal brought her attention to a dark region of peat. In it laid a bright orange fox resting on its side. A stroke of red ran along its abdomen, dirt covering most of its matted fur. The animal let out a few sharp breaths, eyes squinted in pain.

Ellen quietly brought her hand close to the fox, running it across its head. The animal shook with her touch. It was in not position to run.

“Kip, what do I do?” Ellen asked, and for the first time, there was no response.

She bit her top lip in frustration. Sensing that Kip would not dare make this difficult, she placed the animal on top of one of the green patches of grass. A dull, golden glow emanated from the fox’s gash, and another from the knife. A scratch appeared on the knife.

And like that, she was back on the road.

“Good job, Ellen! You’re a natural!” Kip exclaimed. “I knew you’d find the solution quickly. Mostly because I made it very, very obvious.”

Ellen already began running back down the road. “Thanks. I think. How many of these are there?”

“Three.”

“Why three?”

“It’s somewhat obligatory, Ellen. An unspoken rule from the Great Astral themself.” A sigh could be heard. “Us followers aren’t given the full reigns. I hope you realize I can’t tweak things as I wish for you.”

Kip was not in complete control? That explains why he would ever consider making the story more complicated than it had to be. Once this was over, she had to ask him to give her more details about this whole ordeal. It was not long before she made her way to the second clearing. A mountain of jewels blocked her path.

Without a word, Ellen sprinted past the mountain of totally-not-cursed wealth. Almost immediately, the light-show began once again, and another scratch appeared in her golden blade.

Kip’s voice rang out once more. “Ellen, I didn’t even introduce the challenge!”

“Well, I hope your Astral realizes I’m not an idiot,” Ellen said.

“It was supposed to be a test of greed!” He sulked. “The test doesn’t work if there’s no suspense!”

“I’m not greedy for a curse, Kip.”

The winding path seemed even more erratic this time around. Ellen slowed her pace as to not slam into the surrounding tree trunks, her lungs starting to ache. The knife almost slid out of her palm once or twice, and she made a mental note to switch hands every few seconds to compensate.

Soon enough, Ellen made it to the third break in the path. What was initially an echo of static presented itself as the sudden flowing of water cut through the almost silent air, startling Ellen. A vicious river cut through the halfway point of the clearing, white water tumbling a street’s width, continuing far off into the horizon in both directions. She regretted not bringing a water bottle and wiped the sweat off her forehead. The dirt path continued on the other side. It was certainly too far to jump.

“Hello! Down here!” A soft voice yelled from the riverbank. Ellen lowered her gaze to the gray rat circling around her feet.

Ellen tilted her head. “Hey. What’s the problem?”

“I can’t get across – the water’s so deep, and I didn’t expect it to be so fast,” the rat answered. “But if you could carry me across –”

Ellen held out her hand for the rat, fingers beckoning it to hop aboard. Almost immediately, she took a wide stance. One, two, three. The rat flew into the air, landed safely, albeit dazed from the impact, on the other side, and dizzily wandered off. A familiar glow filled the clearing. When she dared to open her eyes again, Ellen appeared on the other side of the river. She wasn’t completely sure that would work, but she was thankful for it regardless.

“Ellen! That was supposed to be a test of selflessness!” Kip exclaimed. “You can’t solve all your problems by brute-forcing your way through them!”

“Well, it worked. And please stop complaining. I already have enough on my mind.”

Ellen took a deep breath as she continued her sprint. That was the last trial. Her parents were nearby. When she reached another, larger clearing, she was sure of it. If the other trees in the forest could be considered tall, the one’s surrounding this clearing were giant. One look at her surroundings was enough to unsettle her. A perfect grassy circle in the forest surrounded by overgrown trees, sunlight casting a dark silhouette over the opposing side.

Suddenly, her body began feeling heavy. Lethargic. Ellen gasped as she struggled to regain her balance, hand tightening around the knife handle. A brief yell escaped her lips. She felt like she was encased in a bubble, a lucid dream-like state, legs weakening under her increasingly apparent weight. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a blurred, snake-like shape slithering out of the shadows. Then two. Four. Twelve.

The snakes converged into one, dark entity. Head, a swirling void. Eyes, two sunken disks from which no light emerged. She shuddered.

“Human. How dare you come here?” It said in a ghoulish whisper that creeped down her spine.

“Not yet,” Ellen muttered.

The entity inched closer to the light. “I see you’re already withering as we speak. Does it scare you? Your parents will be thrilled to hear that their darling little girl has come to save them.”

Now. Ellen glared, silent, as she used the last of her strength to charge at the entity. It didn’t have time to react before she reached it, plunging the golden knife into its torso. A gargling sound emerged from the shadow.

“No! How could you?” It stuttered. “A mere human, fully activating the Knife…!”

The creature disintegrated into numerous black bars, separating from each other, and flew off into the sky. Another bright flash of light, and…

She was back in her room, covered in sweat and dirt, hair messed up, knife nowhere to be found.

“That’s what you get for kidnapping my parents,” she muttered, clutching her stomach. She suspected she had overexerted herself. A familiar churning sensation rolled around her abdomen, and she slowly laid herself down on the wooden floor.

A familiar squirrel at the windowsill cried out, “Oh, Ellen! You did it, but…”

“Don’t you dare whine again.”

“You were supposed to talk him out of his evil ways. It was going to be a happy ending where everyone got along!”

Ellen spread her arms on the floor, groaning in frustration. “Why would I befriend someone who kidnapped my parents?”

A loud yell boomed from the kitchen.

“Ellen! Dinner!” Her mom called.

Kip said, “My Astral will not be pleased by this, Ellen.”

“You’re lucky I’m too tired to deal with you, Kip. Go away. Please.”

Huh? Was it her imagination, or did a light seem to glow in her room? She checked her pockets just to make sure. The knife was certainly nowhere to be seen, so where did it…?

She heard the patter of small paws against the brick windowsill, and at once found herself alone.

Ellen felt a chill creep up her spine. “My powers…” She gazed out the window, looking up at the inky darkness above. For the first time in her life, she felt it.

A star glaring down at her from the cosmos.