Caustic Winning Entry

Daylight streamed in through Tara’s bedroom window, radiating from a sun in a cloudless blue sky. It was a beautiful day, with the slightest cool breeze, a day that should’ve had children pouring from their homes in droves to enjoy. But the little Tarinooki sat on her bed beneath the window with arms crossed, sulking.

It was Whacking Day, and most Misticans were out searching for the Golden Znake. Tara had heard a fabulous prize was awarded to whoever found that znake, and she wanted it! But her mother had said that she was too young to go about the village all alone.

Tara punched her mattress, her eyes narrowed, mouth set. She would go out, and what’s more, she’d find the Golden Znake and win the competition! That’d show her mother that she wasn’t a child. Tara considered herself a very old seven years, anyway.

The Tarinooki jumped off her bed and rummaged around in her closet, emerging with a long, smooth stick: her whacking stick. She’d saved for months to buy it, and had had it taken away almost as soon as she’d walked in the door with it. But Tara had found her mother’s hiding place and stolen it back days ago.

With a satisfied smirk, Tara leaped back onto her bed, pushed the window open wide, and climbed out onto the soft grassy earth.

Whacking Day was well underway - it had officially started that morning - but if Tara came back with the Golden Znake, no one would care that she hadn’t been there from the start.

Her mind fixed on victory, Tara started out, going around the back of her house so no one would see her leaving. Then she broke into a run, leaving the small cluster of houses where she lived behind, and came upon the softly rolling hills that surrounded Rordon Village.

It was a beautiful sight. Grass swayed gently in the light breeze, rippling like water across the land, with the hills like emerald waves. Tara only took it in for a moment, though; she had a mission! She trotted along down the first hill, her amethyst eyes roving the ground for any glimmer of gold.

Suddenly, the grass a few feet in front of her…squirmed. It was the only word that came to mind, for as the wind swept the grass away from Tara, these blades shook in entirely the wrong direction. Excited, Tara ran towards it, whacking stick raised, and brought her wooden weapon down with all the muscle a seven-year-old could boast about. She felt it hit its mark.

Tara swept the grass aside and knelt down to see what she’d whacked. Her face fell instantly; before her was the dazed looking form of an emerald znake. With a heavy sigh, Tara left the creature where it was to recover, then set out again.

Hours passed, and Tara’s luck seemed non-existent. Her stomach rumbled loudly with hunger and the sun was low in the sky. The pleasant breeze had become a chill wind as night approached, and she hadn’t a coat.

But she was going to find the Golden Znake if it took her all night!

Tara kept walking, occasionally using her stick for support. But suddenly, she stopped, eyes wide.

A dark form flapped ahead of her, its lithe body a dark purple, bearing bone-white, tattered wings and a head like a bare skull. The thing fixed its eyeless gaze on her.

Without warning, it zoomed straight for her!

Tara screamed and fled, adrenaline making her little legs fly. She didn’t dare look back but heard the nightmare rovi’s high-pitched screech as it tore through the air after her. Light was fading fast and she nearly tripped running up Rordon’s grassy hills, sometimes clawing her way up, always just barely ahead of her pursuer.

Her breath coming in great, painful gasps, Tara’s legs began to give out. Terror gripped her, that she would collapse and the rovi would fall upon her like an arrow to its target. She kept running from sheer willpower, but even that was quickly waning within her.

Another form now moved somewhere ahead, larger than herself or the rovi. Tears stung Tara’s eyes as she wondered what new horror she was about to meet when it stepped out closer, letting the weak light strike its face.

It was her father. He’d left that morning for Whacking Day. And slung around his neck was a bright gold necklace…no, it was the Golden Znake!

Her father’s eyes found the rovi and he charged, his own whacking stick held high. The rovi stopped mid-air, seeing an opponent it couldn’t take down, and started to fly away - but was swiftly put down as Tara’s father smacked it hard between the eyes.

“Tara!” her father ran to her, but exhaustion had finally overpowered Tara. With a little whimper, she fell to the ground, unconscious.

---

“Oh, praise Pandoria!” her mother’s voice woke her hours later. Tara lay in her bed, her mother sitting beside her on a wooden stool, bearing the unmistakable signs of having been crying. Moonlight poured in through the open window, draining all color from her mother‘s face.

“Daddy won?” Tara murmured, and her mother nodded.

“I did.” Tara’s father entered the room and knelt beside her bed. “You’re feeling better then?”

Tara nodded. “What was the prize?” she asked.

“One of Pandoria’s Boxes,” her father said, and Tara’s eyes widened in awe.

“We’ll talk more in the morning,” Tara’s mother said, giving her a sharp look when she opened her mouth to question her father further. After wishing her good-night, Tara’s parents left her to sleep, closing the door softly behind them.

Tara lay awake for some time. She was disappointed, but grateful that that rovi hadn’t gotten her! Maybe seven really was too young to go walking around by yourself, hunting znakes.

She figured she’d just have to wait until next year, because eight was definitely old enough!