This Star Won't Go Out

“Oh, aye! ’tis what one hast always wanted!”


“Aye, one’s mother explained we will be havin’ pudden . . .”

“And cinnamon cake . . .”

“And Honey Suckle cider-and- and sweets!”

“Flower-Jammed-Jammy-Jam!”

“Strawberry pie, garlic tea!!!”

“Brewed dandelion seeds . . . !”

“Wait,” Docknel stopped on the top stair, looking at Pobby with a puzzled expression. “Did you just say garlic tea?”

Pobby blushed, said a quiet “aye,” and all three burst out laughing.


Choobly was trying to make an announcement, but only one listened. The party was over, the little ones in bed, the wine all gone, little food left (few people did not stuff their faces), and the ones still able-bodied were chattering away in talk. So the king decided to take matters into his own hands. “HELLO!!!” he boomed.

All that could be seen from the font of the lawn where stood Docknel, were eyes, turned him in astonishment.

“Right, um, Choobly would like your attention, if you please . . .” The only ebitilly gave a smile and a wave of gratitude to Docknel, and announced in his fine, bubbly matter what he had to say.

“Well, now that one hast fin’ly gots thy attenchun, justa’wants toa’make cert’un thou art a’havin’a fun time?” A crowd of cheers were his answer, and a couple of hats and bonnets were seen in the air as well.

“’tis all thou wants to say?” one asked, after the cheering died down.

“Shut thy trap, young’un! Nay, ’tis not all one has need of a’sayin’! Just was a’wonderin’ . . .” Choobly shook his head, and continued from where he had left off. “Ah, yes, right . . . one would like to a’have the plea’chur of a’sayin’, that any of thee whoa’wishes to come up to a’perform cans’t.”

The early moon glowed off peoples smiles, and, after a bit of arguing about who would go, a young lad introduced himself as Macklen, and was up singing a favorite in his family.

Me, d’tis me, who can see

thy b’eetiful eyes.

Aye, ’tis thou, only thou,

who knows when one a’lies.

’tis beautiful

Bugly ugly- ’tis B!

EEW- ’tis E!

Achh- ’tis A!

Ughhh- ’tis U!

Tachaww- ’tis T!

Icky!- ’tis I!

Fartsy- ’tis F!

U-though already know!!!

And Lowly yuck- ’tis L!!

’Tis how me spells,

thy b’eetiful feathurs!!!




The crowd cheered, and finally after singing to the request two more times, Macklen the young bowed, and sat. Another young one went up, but this time it was a young hedgehog. Her ears were not as pointy as others, though she was quite short and not as stout as others. She had golden brown skin, and sky blue eyes. She started, in a sweet but raspy voice.

“’Ello, people!” she smiled. “I oi is called Jennily, and I oi is the daughter of ’ee Carnilly, daughter of Jenniliny. I oi is to perfoi’m the poem oi found stuck ’twixt two rocks near the orchard gates, entitled . . . well, it’s untitled, and oi also has reason to believe it’s ’ee bit of a riddle . . .”

Cheering was once again enveloping the room, people laughing with joy at the thought of riddles. It was a favorite among Anderaddon. She nodded once there was silence and read from a piece of parchment she pulled out of her apron pocket.

“Oi am unknown to those

who are pure of heart.

But if ya found this,

here’s something to start:

Me first has no shape,

nor ’tis living,

There’s something to catch,

come, just dive in!

Without it we couldn’t make pie,

and we would surely die.

Please look thoroughly—

No one good knows of this

as oi have toild,

Now this story,

’tis in your hands to save and unfoild.”




There was silence for about two minutes as people pondered, but people slowly began to clap. No one could shake off the thought as the next though person played a song: what did it mean?


Over to the Southwest of Anderaddon, on a small Island called Killer’s Isle, stood a castle. The creatures in this castle were nasty sea-parrots, sea-rats, sea-weasels, and sea-lizards ruled by their king, BladeSlip. BladeSlip was an evil, gigantic parrot who was as slippery as an eel when it came to trusting him. The last king, Jockle, was a ruthless sea-rat, and his favorite out of the boat’s captain’s was BladeSlip, at that time called BladeThrow. When Jockle was sitting down at a festive dinner celebrating the plunder his captains had brought him that day, BladeThrow “happened” to let his blade “slip” on the king’s front paw. Jockle cursed him and challenged him to a duel. BladeThrow, knowing the king was older than he and wounded, accepted gladly. Jockle was now just another carcass in the sea, come from Killer’s Isle.

“’Hoi!”

“Ey, id’et, y’just soiled my new silk robe!”