
New to the Pondathon’s story?
Read this prologue first or read the previous chapter.
With the first morning light, its soft glow shining on the Pond, the forest begins to wake – and so does Sprout’s magic.
As the trees arouse from their rest and the flowers unfurl, Sprout can now feel the hum of the forest, the hum of life. Everything in this world is connected, Sprout knows. A young shoot and an old oak may weather different worlds, but they are still connected to one infinite well of the earth – the greatest and oldest magic of all.
For Sprout, magic isn’t summoning or harnessing raw elements into power. Rather, they intertwine their magic with that of the earth. For Sprout, magic is openness, feeling, connection. Sprout inhales, and with their deep and steady exhale (and a slight wobble of the sprout on their head), they branch out with their magic – intertwining their magic with the roots buried deep into the earth, feeling the flutter of a leaf in a distant tree, and the drop of morning dew fall onto the Pond.
Read More »