STORIES FROM

N O W H E R E ISLAND

CONTENTSPage 4 Free

by B e t h i e Helliewell Page 8

The Seed by

S e r e n P a s c o e Davis Page 12

The Right

to be Included

by S o p h i e Troczynska Page 18

T h e Right to Respect

byH a n n a h Pollard

Page 22

P i n k Bird and Red Bird

by E r v i n Martini

Edited by

Caroline Mawdsley

and

Laura Denning

Design by Ali Donkin

CONTENTSPage 30

Everyone’s Freedom

By Hannah Jump

Page 18 T h e Right to Respect

byH a n n a h Pollard

Page 26

T h e Nowhere People

BYAliDonkin

THE RIGHT

TO LIVE

By Bethie Helliwell

THE RIGHT

TO LIVE

By Bethie Helliwell

It is said that when the ice to the north is at it’s worst it is like being trapped, with pressure ridges greater than eighty feet tall. Steering your course is said to be impossible when clouds hid the southernly sun and stars are hidden for many eighteen-hour nights on end. This is understood more than anyone by Akna, a low ranking girl within the nomadic tribe of Svalbard. She has falling in love with Iluak, the son of their tribes Kaskae (Chief) and now carries his child.

‘If only we could be free’ she thinks as she looks up in wonder into the Kinguyakkii (The Northen Lights), as she often does to escape from her shame. “Close your eyes and shelter!!” a woman shouts from behind. Akna turns around to see the wise old woman, Tootega” gazing at her, wide eyes of worry. Tootega explains “if a pregnant female looks up high into the Kinguyakkii it will cause great harm and suffering to her unborn child”.

As Akna is carrying the future leader of their tribe there is outrage and she is called before Kaskae, the chief, who deems her the life of a Wolf, once the baby is born she and the baby must leave the tribe and never return. Iluak pleads with his father to change his mind and let his young family stay with the tribe but Kaskae holds to his word.

In the middle of the following night Iluak approaches Akna as she is gazing at the Tlate Hiin (twinkle upon the water) upon the sea at the edge of their tribes border. To Akna it seems like Iluak has the weight of the world upon his shoulders. He holds her arms and explains “We must leave, I have collected the boat, we must head to Sirmiq, before the sun reaches the ice”. “Sirmiq is disappearing, it is a refuge for no one, we will melt away with the ice” she replies.“I know this to be true, but think bravely Akna and imagine with me what might lie in its path” Iluak says shouting in whispers.She looks into his eyes and understands This is the only way for them, the only way they can find peace for them and their unborn child, a new start upon the sea.

Akna sits pulling her blankets around her in the little rowing boat as Iluak pushes off from the ice. As time passes they both tire of paddling and fall asleep in the boat. Waves carry them along the ocean away from their troubled land. When she awakens she see’s their boat is stuck against hard rocks. She is stricken with a sense of ownership, of which she has never felt before. Akna wakes up Iluak in excitement. “We have found our land”. Iluak awakes quickly and looks around in astonishment, then rushes to Akna embracing her and their unborn child. He steps of the boat, pulling Akna gently with him, “Our own land”. However the realisation of their situation is occurring to Akna and she starts to worry “but we are nowhere, with nothing”.Illuak turns to face her and looks her reassuringly “but don’t you see we have everything, a new beginning, our freedom, this is our NOWEHEREISLAND”.

Within the next couple of days Akna gives birth to a beautiful healthy baby, which they call Annakpok, meaning ‘free’. They make a promise upon this birth to create their own settlement, to create a nation with inclusive laws, where people respect one another and no one is left to flee for their lives as outcasts.

T H E S E E D

BySEREN PASCOE DAVIES

T H E S E E D

BySEREN PASCOE DAVIES

There was always the land. Ice covered it, and the water moved beneath it, and in the winter snow fell upon it, and kept life from its shores. One day, people came to live upon the land. They built villages on the beds of snow, hunted its animals and gathered together each night under its skies. They told stories of the Old Continents, where fruit grew and streams ran with fresh water. The land felt their footsteps moving on its back. It did not know what these new creatures were, so from beneath the sheet of snow it listened, and heard the stories the people told at night. It was taken aback by the beauty of the words. That night, the people went to sleep in their new homes upon the land’s back. And the land slept, and dreamed of fruit trees and streams of fresh water.But the people had not seen such things for a long time. This new land was unrewarding, cold and barren, and there were no plants to be found for when they were sick, and the animals became scarce. The land loved the men, and tried to make them happy. It pictured the stories of the Old Continents. But the snow kept falling, and it could not grow fruit on its back and make streams of fresh water.Soon, to the land’s horror, a change came over the people. When they were cold and hungry, it realized, they became strange. They no longer sat with each other and told each other stories. Their footsteps grew heavier and slower, and made the land ache and it could still bear no plants for them. And when they were at their coldest and hungriest, they became very strange. They would hurt one another. Throw cruel words at one another. Their thoughts were only of food and warmth, and until they could find some they had nothing to spare, not even kindness.One day, two men went out hunting. They walked to the edge of the land, to its very shore, to find food for the weakest and sickest of the village. For a while they walked in silence, until one of them began to speak.“Tell you what” said the first man “A person needs food to live, right? That’s a fact, isn’t it?”The second man agreed.“Yes, yes it is a fact.”“And no person is better than another person, right? That’s a fact as well, isn’t it?”“Yes, yes it is.”“Well then” said the first man “I don’t see why the food should have to go back to the village, since they’re no better or more important than us.”The second man agreed. They walked in silence again.“And speaking of which” said the first man again “It’s also a fact that a person needs a lot of food to keep going, and that you, by rights, are no better or more important than me. So why shouldn’t it be that I have all the food, and you can go back and get your own? After all, fair’s fair.”“Now hold on a minute” said the second man “If that’s true, why shouldn’t I have all the food and you can go and find your own since you’re no better or more important than me?”By now the two were angry. Their bones were sick with cold, but they began to run, racing each other. Both knew that they had to reach the food first. They ran all the way across the sheets of snow, the very edge of the land. And as they reached the shore, each no better than the other, they stopped at the same moment. They looked around them. Not a single animal remained.Panting, frozen and mad with hunger, the second man took his hunting knife, and stabbed the first in the heart.Suddenly, the land felt a terrible red rain spill upon it’s back. It was overcome by horror. But it loved the people, and could do nothing. So it let the snow fall again to cover the red body. And it spoke to the shore where the man had died. You did this, said the land.No, said the shore, the people did this. I did nothing.I love the people, said the land. I cannot punish them. The body is on your back. So I will punish you. And the snow ceased to fall on the shore. The winter chill faded from the air, and fierce heat came, and a rage overtook the land.No, cried out the shore.And the people came from the village, with axes and instruments to pierce the ice, and blazing torches, and the shore felt itself slipping from the land, away, into the dark water.No, cried out the shore.But it could not hear the land any more. It was cut from the belly of its mother, drifting in the chaos of the sea. It was barred on all side by solitude, and the body buried in snow. It had become a new land. A land without people or animals or trees. Only the movement of the waves, and the red body covered by snow. It was lost.A great sadness followed the new land, as it drifted. It prayed once again for the people to come to it, and promised it would feed them and look after them as it had failed to do before. But all the plants it tried to grow

on its back died beneath the snow. And soon it forgot its mother, and the stories of the Old Continent, which it had repeated to itself as it fell asleep, became lost to it in the black expanse of the ocean. It began to get smaller, and smaller, and lost itself to the water. The island and the body were alone. It did not feel, at first, the flicker of life deep beneath the snow. A seed. Clutched to the heart of the red body. The last of the Old Continent. He had kept it safe his entire life, knowing it would die planted in the bitter cold of the land. But his blood woke it, and it grew, searching for light. After many days, it burst through to the surface and felt the sting of the air. After many more days, it had become a tree. The island woke. It asked the roots pressed into its back “Who are you?”And the juniper tree said “The last of the Old Continent.”“And do you remember what it was like there?” asked the island“Yes” said the juniper tree “I do.”They sank together into the waves.

THE RIGHT to be INCLUDED

BySOPHIE

TROCZYNSKA

THE RIGHT to be INCLUDED

BySOPHIE

TROCZYNSKA

There were many different animals that co-inhabited the island together, and though they didn’t always get along with one another they could occasionally put aside their differences and enjoy a peaceful day together, even if there was the occasional squabble over someone’s eating habits or the amount of space someone just had to have on the island.

It was early in the morning of what would be one of the warmer days of that summer that the animals started gathered together. The midnight sun was rising in the sky and the temperature warming with it. The rocky ground was scarce with vegetation with the odd bloom breaking through the landscape of the snow covered clearing, moving in the gentle breeze that wafted across the open plane.

As the temperature increased an artic fox crawled out of its den, gently shaking its blue white fur before darting toward the clearing. Over a ridge towards the west a reindeer was slowly trotting eastwardly and upon entering the clearing greeted the artic fox who had entered from the east.

Slowly the animals continued to arrive. Water droplets were dripping of the ends of a walrus’s tusks and whiskers as it was wiggling along the floor after lifting it’s self out of the freezing waters, as an artic hare hopped towards the gathering of animals from the north, and a little auk flew above the clearing before coming to a stop among the other animals. When they all had arrived they begun to talk and play together among the snow enjoying the company of the others before they went on their own way until the next gathering.

The just over the ridge from the south a polar bear slowly stepped onto the island. Having travelled from other places among the Arctic Circle, its home

wasn’t on the island but having wanted to explore different landscapes and different places, the polar bear journeyed around while looking for a place to be called home. Hearing a commotion to the north the polar bear decided to head towards the clearing to see what was occurring and upon entering the clearing stopped to observe the behaviour of the other animals playing together.

Snow was flying at each of the animals as the arctic fox, reindeer, walrus and arctic hare flicked it towards one another with their paws, flippers and hooves, while the little auk was picking up the snow in its claws and was then dropping it onto other heads from above. It was the auk who first

spotted the Polar Bear moving towards them from the edge of the clearing.

“What are you doing standing there?” The auk called as it hovered above the others, bringing their attention to the polar bear. Startled from observing their behaviour the polar bear replied

“I have been travelling to find a home and came upon this clearing”

“Well go away you’re not welcome here” the auk shouted back across the clearing. The other animals nodded in agreement and added shouts of “This is our home not yours” and “Leave” with a round of approval.

As the polar bear went to walk away the other animals turned once more towards each other and continued with their games, gathering snow in to

roundish piles before throwing them at one another. Rather than leaving the polar bear decided to continue to watch just from closer to the edge of the clearing.

“Hey, look I’ve made an arctic hare” laughed the arctic fox, moving aback from where it had arranged three balls of snow.

“Cool, I want to be made out of snow to” the reindeer said joining in the others laughing.

Soon they were all trying to recreate each other out of snow some with more luck then others, forgetting about the polar bear who continued to watch in the distance.

“That doesn’t look anything like me” the reindeer said to the arctic hare.

“Well I know I can jump high but I can’t reach high enough to put the other balls of snow for the body and head” the arctic hare replied, to chuckles of the others.

“We should see who can make the biggest ball of snow” said the reindeer and after a period of time called out “Ha I win” while standing in front of a large ball of snow

“No I win” said the walrus those own pile was just as large even if it wasn’t completely round.

“I think is should be how big it is in relation to ourselves” said the auk

whose pile, while smaller than the first two was twice the size of itself.

“But you and arctic hare are tiny and arctic fox isn’t much bigger” replied the walrus gaining reindeer’s agreement.

“Let’s pile them up and see how high they are on top of one another” said the arctic fox.

They started with the largest ball who everyone apart from the walrus agreed was the reindeers and then continued to pile them up biggest too smallest who belonged to the auk. As they tried to reach the top to put the auk’s snowball on top they realised that no one in their group could reach. Even with the arctic hare standing on the reindeer’s head and the auk trying

to hold it from above.

“It’s no use were just not tall enough” said the walrus as they all looked down dejectedly.

The polar bear who had watched them compete and had listened to their converstion started to walk towards them once more and upon reaching them said I “could reach and put the snow ball on top for you”

“Why we told you to leave” said the arctic hare

As the polar bear move forward and was lifting the ball into place the polar bear said “I have been traveling for a while searching for a place to call home and this seems like a nice place to be for a while. I saw you all together and would like to try and get along with some even if only for a small time.”

They agreed to allow the polar bear to stay even if some were grump about losing some of their territory.

“Can you put these stones in the top ball I feel that it should have eyes like our other snow creatures?” the walrus asked

“Wouldn’t that be weird with just the eyes, what about arms and legs and

paws?” said the arctic fox.

“Not everyone has paws, you know” said the auk, “what about claws and a beak.”

“And a tail” said the arctic hare

“And antlers” said the reindeer

“And flippers” said the walrus

It would be really weird if it had all of those different qualities. The polar bear said. “What about if we put flippers at the bottom made out of snow like the walrus and add stones for eyes and some for a mouth for the ground where we live? We could add arms out of sticks; they look a bit like bird legs

and claws as well as antlers. It’s already made out of snow and me arctic hare and arctic fox are that colour that way it might not look so weird while still representing apart of each of us.

The others agreed and they were soon off to gather the different objects required.

“I still think it looks weird, nothing could really look like that surly” said the arctic fox as they stood back to look upon their creation, causing the others laugh.

THE RIGHT TO RESPECT

ByHANNAH POLLARD

THE RIGHT TO RESPECT

ByHANNAH POLLARD

A Right to Respect.

A long, long time ago, in the harsh, uninhabited, wintry lands of the High Arctic, lived a giant named

Svalbard. Svalbard was a gentle giant, one who lived simply, one who was kind, yet enjoyed the solitude of

the barren land on which he lived. He had always lived here, and loved it on this island, and felt that he

always would. Svalbard had a cousin. A mischievous little, cousin called, Oy, who came to live with

Svalbard when he found himself with nowhere else to go. Oy had no home, except for with Svalbard. Oy

did not respect his home or others around him. All day long he would bother Svalbard, stealing his food,

hiding his belongings, and making his home dirty. He would not ever help Svalbard, or listen to what he

had to say. Oy was selfish and cruel, and did not care for Svalbard. The giant would have to work hard all

day and all night, finding food to eat, preparing this food, cleaning, and caring for his cousin, to ensure

their home was a happy one. This lack of respect made Svalbard very sad, as he loved Oy, and could not

get him to change his ways; no matter how hard he tried. Svalbard kept his thoughts and frustrations to

himself, so to not cause hostility, and with every tear he cried for Oy and his bad habits he would plead to

his Kingdom, "show him the right we all have to respect" as he stared into the cold, calm sea. Svalbard did

this every day for 80 days and 80 nights yet not one thing changed, Oy remained the same. 

One day Svalbard woke up to find his home empty and strangely silent. He walked all over the land, and

his cousin was nowhere to be found. "Oy" he cried, "Oy, where are you?! You can come out now, stop

hiding!" Svalbard could not find his cousin anywhere, and became angry at his tricks. He went down to the

waters edge and once again pleaded furiously to the sea, "oh, please, show him the right to respect" and

was frightened when he saw the sky grow dark and stormy, and the waves rose up more furiously than he

had ever seen. Svalbard ran for cover, and was startled when he heard the reply, "do not worry gentle

Svalbard, I have heard your cries. It is I, Vann, god of the water. I have sent your cousin away on an island,

to travel the ocean, in order to help him change his ways, and to learn how to respect." Svalbard was so

shocked and scared of this mighty voice that he ran all the way home, and did not come out for 14 days and

nights. He prayed for his cousin’s safety, dreamt of the Godly voice of Vann, the terrifying, raging waters,

and cried for his own lack of patience at his unruly cousin. He wished more than anything that he could

take back what he had wished, and that Oy would return home.  

Svalbard continued, from day to day, keeping his home a clean, safe and welcoming place to live in, with the

hope that his only friend, and cousin, would soon return to share it with him. 

One bright and sunny morning, Svalbard awoke to the sound of people, laughing and talking outside his

home. He opened the door to see thousands of people creating a feast. "I must be dreaming" he thought to

himself, as he rubbed his eyes. Sighing, he prepared himself for another lonely day of hard work and

solitude. When he opened his eyes again, in front of him was Oy. He was smiling, and took his cousin in a

warm embrace. "Svalbard" he said, "I have been on a journey. A journey that has taken me around the

world. I have seen many things. I have laughed. I have cried. I have been lonely. I have made new friends.

But mostly I have learnt. I have learnt, through these wonderful people, about respect. Vann sent me to all

the countries of the world, and told me to gain the respect of the people who lived there, so that they

would come and live with me on my island, teaching me to live peacefully with others. They did so, and

now we return here, to our land, to live with you, and to bring you happiness. I promise you I will love and

respect, both you, and our land, so that it may live on forever. I will never forget my time on that island. It

took me nowhere. It took me everywhere. It took me to be alone to see what I have, right here." A single

tear fell from Svalbard's eye as he looked around at all the smiling people, the waves crashing onto the

land, and back at Oy, and replied "we all have the right to respect my cousin, and for you it has come to

light, on your very own nowhereisland." 

From that day on, they lived together as one nation, separated by nothing, united by respect, and the power of the sea.

PINK BIRD and RED

BIRD

By ERVIN

MARTINI

PINK BIRD and RED

BIRD

By ERVIN

MARTINI

Pink Bird and Red Bird returned home to their mother. The day had been clear and bright for the most part and although rather windy it did not stop there fun. They had decided to return home to their island after they noticed a rain cloud approaching, and anyway it was nearly almost their bedtime.

The grey cloud was nearing the island as they arrived, their mother waiting for them. The island, a small broken piece of land, drifted slowly through the sea as it had done for months now.

"Will there be a storm tonight?" said Pink Bird as they both landed.

"No, just very rainy." said their mother, eyeing the nearing cloud.

"Then you must tell us more stories for bedtime or we never fall asleep with all that noise." smiled Red Bird.

"You two don't need to worry about the cloud," said their mother "all you two need to worry about is eating your food, brushing your beaks and getting a good night’s sleep."

The birds ate their meals; worm soup, their favourite. They were very excited about the stories they would hear as they brushed their beaks and got into their pyjamas. As they got into bed they heard soft noises form outside, it had begun to rain. Their mother came into the room holding a candle in her right wing and a small blanket for herself in the left, she too heard the rain.

"Where do you think our island will end up?" asked Pink Bird.

"I'm not sure." answered their mother as she sat down.

"I hope lots of people come to live on our island." said Red Bird.

"People discovering and finding a new home is a very good thing," said their mother "however sometimes it's not."

"How?" said Pink Bird.

"Well," said their mother as she composed herself for the first story. "There once were a group of people who had been living on their island for a long time..."

Her voice was soft and even as she spoke, and as she spoke the birds listened, listened about the people who lived on a island, and how after a time other people came. And how these others that came to the island brought with them disease which spread to the natives, how they brought with them weapons with which they killed the natives. She told them of how the native people became fewer and fewer, while the other people became more and more. And how soon after, it was not the native’s home anymore but the other peoples, and the other people called it their home, and saw the natives as living on their home, their land.

The birds were quiet and the rain was falling.

"Why couldn't both the people live there both together?" said Pink Bird.

"I'm not sure." said their mother.

"Probably it’s very hard to share I think." said Red Bird.

"Do you think if people come to live here, do you think they will take our home?" said Pink Bird.

Pink Bird and Red Bird

Pink Bird and Red Bird Flying high in the sky. When the night comes, Pink Bird and Red Bird Return home to their

mother.

"I don't know." said their mother "but a home is not the worst thing someone could take."

"How do you mean?" said Pink Bird.

"Well this story is similar to the first." she said. She turned her head towards the window; the rain was falling harder now, falling on the tree leaves and on their brown wooden roof. She continued "There were a group of people who had been living on their hot and sunny island for a very long time; then others came...”

Their mother spoke in the same soft voice and the birds listened more closely. She again told the birds how soon after the others came the natives lost their home. And so the island belonged to the other people now. Her voice remained soft as she told the birds of how the other people began taking the native children away from their parents, and how they said they were doing this to protect them. She told them of how people thought this was done not to protect the children but in the hope that the native people would fade away. And in fading away would not be a threat to the others who believed themselves to be the better people.

The candle flickered and waves were heard in the room.

"This was a very long time ago and things are very different now.” said their mother "Anyway that's enough stories for tonight, I'll tell you a funny joke and then both of you will go to sleep."

"Ok." both said the birds.

"Two worms are falling from the sky, falling and falling." said their mother "They look down and see the distant colours of pink and red. They fall and fall and land in the beaks of Pink Bird and Red Bird, who quickly scoff them down."

The birds laughed, laughed at the unluckiness of the worms to land into their beaks and they soon feel asleep. Their mother was sat by a window staring out as the island slowly drifted through night, the rain had passed now. And as she stared out at the sea of darkness a small island came into view. She could see a faint orange glow and small sleeping lighthouse. She breathed softly and took a sip of her tea.

THE NOWHERE

PEOPLE

ByAli

Donkin

THE NOWHERE

PEOPLE

ByALI

DONKIN

THE NOWHERE

PEOPLE

ByALI

DONKIN

This is not a story about what is, or what was, it is a story about what could have been.

In the far north of the earth, where the air is so close to the atmosphere the taste of Iron licks through the bitter wind, a spire of ice glints magnificently, reaching so high the North star looks like it’s perched on top of it like the star on a Christmas tree. The spire sits proudly on a great dome of blocked ice which seems to cheat gravity, a dome which is just a part of an elaborately carved temple, the jewel of a city only known to those lucky enough to have been born there. Any who would have stumbled upon the city would have thought it was carved from Diamond, every wall sparkling with minute icicles or clear except for small rainbows captured inside the ice as the sun played its way through the huge blocks. However no one would ever stumble upon this place, so far away was it from the rest of the word, girdled by dark waters and cliffs of ice.

The people of the town were the most gifted craftsmen in the entire world, even though the entire world would never know it. They had not only built their small city out of the featureless ice but every brick, every door way, every lamppost even each gutter and drain pipe had been carved with patterns. Patterns that told stories of hot lands, strange animals and new colours. Their imaginations could not be stopped, but could never be shared. No one but the people of the city could ever hear their stories or see their carvings. Whilst the people loved to tell stories there was no one to hear them who had not heard new story up-on new story or seen carving after carving. No one wanted to hear the next new story, they were growing tired of creating with no one to delight in their hard work. Whilst they were free to create they had become so used to their freedom that is started to feel like a burden, always to be creating and never to enjoy. Slowly less and less the people created.

Each day one new story was not told, one new carving forgotten. The people couldn’t understand why they had put in so much effort to make their city beautiful with no one to see it. Whilst they had

been free to create the people realised they had turned their freedom into a chore. Without the pressure to create on them some drifted in self pity, eyes fixed at their feet sorrowful that there was no one to see their work, yet others started to raise their heads and suddenly they realised they had a chance to enjoy it themselves and for the first time they looked. They saw what they had created and now they understood why they had worked so hard.

But freedom, like ice, can slowly melt away without you realising it and when it is taken for granted the cracks begin to show, and so it had been with the city. With each day their freedom went unused, every burst of creativity that fizzled as each person couldn’t be bothered to make something new, something old would melt. Nothing lasts forever and without new activity every day the city had started to drip slowly to its end, lost potential pooling around every ornate building. The people had realised to late the value of what they had, board of the new they now had nothing left of the old and were forced to go out into the dark world and find a place so new and unimaginable it would be beyond even their most outlandish carving.

As the last drips of the once great city found their way off the edges of the island on which it was carved, all that was left was grey rock, black dust and one young girl. She had been the last to tell a story in the old city and as she sat on the rock and sunk her hands into the dust she saw not loss but potential. What would have been and what could be. She didn’t imagine the city rebuilt, she had learnt her lesson about taking for granted the new, the potential for something different griped her. She instead imagined another world where the island, like its old people could escape to somewhere new. She imagined it being more than just rock and dust, but not by carving or building, by its new people and by their ability to create and imagine.

EVERYONE’S FREEDOM

ByHANNAH

JUMP

EVERYONE’S FREEDOM

ByHANNAH

JUMP

Once upon a time, in a far away land there was a young boy named Halvard. Well, Halvard had always thought himself an ordinary boy. However there was something special about Halvard, the way the glistening of the snow reflected so readily in his eyes, his cheeks glowed a more radiant pink then any rose.  He had an endless energy, seemed light as a feather and never fell ill or complained of ailments.

Halvard lived in a cold, dark village among people who were quite the opposite of him. Tired and exhausted from the icy winds beating their every outdoor venture, wading through thick snow and pale as can be, the only colour in them was the bright red ends of their noses. Despite being cold and dark, the village of Glacellis was deeply beautiful and thusly unappreciated. There were only a few cobalt wisps of cloud in the sky outnumbered by the hundreds of the thousands of sporadic glittering stars.

Each day the sun would peak up for a shred of time to blast a short sharp yellow blaze into the sky and then disappear almost in an instant to restore Glacellis to its well known darkness. Halvard used to climb up the tallest glacier everyday to watch this simple beauty. Everyone else remained grumpily in their caverns.

After one particularly astonishing blast of sunshine, Halvard ascended down the glacier to the village below. As Halvard slided down the bumpy icey path he looked down upon the caverns and huts, he often did, noticing the warm glow of a hundred fires boiling up stews and keeping the caverns warm. This night however, he noticed only one glow and as he got closer to the bottom of the glacier, he decided to investigate.

It was the village hall that was radiant with not just light, but also noise and conversation- he snuck into the back entrance, closing the door slowly so it wouldn’t creak, and eavesdropped on the conversation. “It’s no good! No-one in Glacellis is happy! The days are so short, the night is almost endless, there is nothing to look forward to!” “I agree! It’s cold, it’s dark, no crops can grow, we live off only fish, the snowy winds hurt my face, something has to be done”. Halvards heart sank, he knew what was coming. The villagers continued... “We need to change! We need warmer weather!”  “We need crops!”  “We need sunshine!” ... “WE NEED TO BE FREED FROM THIS ICE HELL”, a roaring voice bellowed, it was the voice of Pethorn, the most conceited man in the village. He continued “I have heard tales of other places where there are plants that are green and that you can eat. Trees with berries that you can crush and drink! Islands surrounded by clear blue water that you can immerse yourself in! All we have here is the same old fish to eat and melted ice to drink, and the seas are frozen and will kill anyone in a matter of minutes. Too long I have waited in this dark, miserable land waiting for something to happen, too many times I have ventured up glaciers to gather ice just to quench my own thirst! I say we should leave the island, and the sooner the better” Halvard felt his stomach turn, he couldn’t hide away in silence any longer, “Glacellis is startlingly beautiful! The landscape is so inspirational! We get by comfortably and anyway, you can’t leave the island, the wood from the trees will never dry out to make boats and we can’t swim in that water! We’ll have to stay! And you can all learn to appreciate this wonderful island for what it is!”

There was a low rumbling of quizzical chatter, concerned faces everywhere you looked, then a large bellowing sound came from the back of the room it was the roar of Ganor, one of the ice farmers, he was largely built, and was as strong as an ox. He bellowed “LETS MOVE THE ISLAND”. Everyone

looked at him puzzled with blank expressions. He continued “EVERYDAY I PICKAXE AND HAUL GARGANTUAN SLABS OF ICE AROUND GLACELLIS, I SAY WE CUT GLACELLIS FROM THE ICE, DRAG IT DOWN THE GLACIER MOUNTAIN, FLOAT IT TO PASTURES NEW!”  There was a deadly silence followed by a trickling of laughter, then a shower of clapping and finally an eruption of cheering. Halvard held his face in his hands, he knew that moving Glacellis into a new climate would mean the landmass would melt and become smaller, the natural beauty of the village would be lost, he argued and fought and quarrelled til he could no more – it was no use. Outnumbered and defeated he realised that this was the only thing the villagers had been excited and happy about in a long while, and he simply had to just let them destroy the place he adored so much.  Helpless and alone, he walked back to his cabin, climbed out onto the balcony and looked out the magnificent view one last time.

Halvard was awoken with loud crash and he was propelled from the balcony where he had slept into the snow of his garden he looked out in the distance and the frozen forest in the distance was moving, the ground beneath him was trembling, with a blast of realisation Halvard ran down his garden path to the edge of the village, Halvard couldn’t believe his eyes, you couldn’t see the white of the snowy ground for all the villagers pulling, pushing, towing and tieing. HEEEAAVE they shouted!

There was nothing Halvard could do, he looked out at the light of the moon reflecting in the surrounding glaciers and took as much of it in as possible, he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to lock the memories in his head forever, feeling powerless  and bewildered , he just sat and looked.  There was an abrupt swooping sensation, a surge of yells and cries from the villagers below and a thrashing splash! Climbing up the ropes to safety the villagers clambered back onto the village and cheered as the new island floated adrift.  Throughout that night the villagers were optimistically merry and wined and dined and danced, hopeful and excited about the places they could see. They felt a freedom they had never felt before.  Halvard looked out at the vast nothingness, his eyes welled, his nose tingled and his tears fell. He couldn’t understand, everything he loved was taken away from him in an instant, his memories were all he had left, and the loss was almost too much to bear.  

Days passed, the air grew warmer, and the ice on the edge of the village became slushier. Halvard took a look around, took a large breath and decided to leave. The villagers of Glacellis had always been too scared to enter the ocean unknowing of what wonders or danger lied below, but Halvard would rather risk his life then stay and encounter the inevitable destruction of his home.

Halvard climbed up to the tallest point of Glacellis, an arduous trek he had undergone many times before, though this time the tallest point had already shrunk by an incredible amount. He looked out onto the horizon; the sky was a bright blue, lighter than he had ever seen it. He missed the stars, they always been there whenever he chose to gaze up, he’d always thought them as his friends. Halvard found his mind strangely empty for a moment... and he jumped. Bulleting down towards the sea Halvard felt nothing; perhaps all his feelings outweighed each other. He darted into the ocean, down and down until he curled up towards the surface of the water. The water was calm and refreshing, Halvard found it relaxing and spreading out his limbs, him himself began to float. He wondered why anyone had ever been scared of the water. The ocean looked after him, rocking him gently up and down Halvard felt something he hadn’t felt for a while, contentment. He thought to himself ‘perhaps experiencing new things isn’t so bad after all’.

Halvard awoke finding himself amongst a pile of fishing nets, he jumped up, Halvard realised

he was not alone and not floating in the ocean. A head loomed over Halvard, a grizzly man with a long

black beard “are you okay boy? We found you floating. Your name?” Halvard remained silent; he was

too puzzled to speak.

‘What’s the matter? Have you no tongue? Are you lost?’

Halvard wasn’t sure, he knew certainly that he had no idea where he was, but he was meant to not know. “Not lost. You can’t be lost when you don’t have anywhere to belong to.”

“Oh, like that is it boy? Well we’ll take you to shore and you can find your way from there.” Alighting from the boat Halvard had one thing in mind, to get back to where Glacellis had

been, to look up at the mystifying starry night that meant so much to him. However the sights of this new land were tempting to explore.

Saying his goodbyes to the grizzly fisherman, Halvard headed home.He walked through the bustling market, but was persuaded to try a range of delicious fruits, nuts and cheeses, he quickly stopped off at the watering hole and enjoyed ale and listened to a delightful folk band and even indulged in a little dance. Setting off again, Halvard left the village, he travelled through plush forests, stopped a few times to watch a bee stealing pollen from a flower, he ran through a meadow chasing moths, and one even landed on his nose. Halvard climbed trees, swam in rivers watched birds and trekked along the coast.

He met fisherman, artists, sailors, farmers, dancers, soldiers, musicians, zoo-keepers and many other interesting people. He helped the fisherman fish, he was taught how to paint, he baked his first bloomer, he heard epic war stories, learnt to play the ukulele, planted a tree, sang with the choir and well, the list goes on. Halvard was having great fun, and as he travelled, the winds got colder, the floor became slippery, the days grew shorter, the night time grew longer and the stars sparkled brighter. Halvard was nearly home.

Eventually, Halvard arrived at the bottom of the mountain he recognised instantly, it was the mountain ‘Eyess’ which Glacellis had once adorned the top of. Determined, Halvard began to climb, up, only stopping to look down once or twice. As he got higher, the wind got colder and wilder. At long last Halvard reached the top. He didn’t just stop at the top of the mountain, he climbed to the tallest glacier and looked out at the scintillating stars once more. Halvard smiled and overjoyed he cried out “I’M HOOOOME”. He took it all in, looking out on to the horizon he noticed something that seemed familiar to him. It was Glacellis! Running, nay skidding back down the mountain to confirm what he had seen, he tumbled a few times, but persevered, reaching the bottom he realised his eyes had not deceived him. It was Glacellis!

The villagers ran to greet Halvard, exclaiming to Halvard the same questions as he asked them “How did you get back here? Why did you get back here?”

“We came back! Halvard you were right, we missed the ice fishing, we missed the icy chill that keeps us feeling alive every morning.” “We missed the glow of the stars, and it’s just not the same anywhere else! We came straight back!”

Halvard smiled “You didn’t explore? But there is so much you are missing!” Halvard told the tales of what he had seen and what he had discovered. The villagers listened intensely and glanced at one another with excitement. From that day forward, once a year they took the liberty of floating Glacellis to the mainland to learn of new cultures and new ideas but they always endeavoured to return the village to the beauty of the icy mountains.

THEEND

With thanks to Plymouth Arts Centre