Note: These short stories are set in The Magical World of Zealandia, offering glimpses into its adventures and mysteries. While they can be enjoyed on their own, reading Zealandia: The Dreadstones Grasp will provide deeper context and enrich your experience!
It started with a honk in Midtown, Zealandia’s bustling shopping village.
Victoria froze mid-step, her cat-like eyes narrowing as the sound echoed through the village square. “Please tell me that wasn’t a goose.”
“It was definitely a goose,” Tom said, moving his hand from his golden hair to point towards a bakery with a flour-coated sign, making it unreadable. A large white goose stood proudly on the cobblestones, a loaf of bread clutched firmly in its beak.
Emily tilted her head. “Is it… stealing bread?”
“Looks like it,” Alex said, crossing his arms as his grin reached his grey eyes. “And it doesn’t seem sorry about it.”
The goose honked again, its wings flaring dramatically as if daring anyone to stop it.
Tom grinned. “This is amazing. I’ve always said this town needed more drama.”
“It’s not amazing,” Victoria snapped. “That’s our bread!”
Emily gasped, clutching the fabric of her rainbow dress. “That’s our bread?”
“Yes!” Victoria said, glaring at the goose before shifting her gaze to their now breadless basket. “I just bought it for dinner!”
“Guess the goose beat you to it,” Alex said dryly.
“Not funny,” Victoria muttered. “We need to get it back.”
Tom held up a hand. “I’ll handle this.”
“Oh no,” Alex said. “Here we go.”
Tom stepped forward, crouching slightly as he approached the goose. “Easy there, buddy. No need to get territorial. Just hand over the bread, and no one gets hurt.”
The goose honked loudly, its beady eyes narrowing.
Victoria rolled her eyes. “It’s not going to negotiate with you, Tom.”
“Let me try,” Emily said, stepping forward. She knelt in front of the goose, smiling sweetly. “Hey, little guy. That bread isn’t good for you. Why don’t you give it back, and I’ll find you some nice seeds?”
For a moment, the goose seemed to consider this. Then, it flapped its wings, turned, and bolted down the street with the bread still in its beak.
“Great job,” Alex said, already jogging after it, his pale-blonde hair swaying.
“Don’t let it get away!” Victoria yelled, sprinting after him, her black hair catching the wind.
Tom whooped. “This is the best day ever!”
The goose darted through the streets, weaving between stalls and scattering pedestrians. The group followed in hot pursuit, narrowly avoiding carts of vegetables and piles of crates.
“Why is it so fast?” Emily panted.
“It’s running on pure spite,” Alex replied.
The goose veered sharply, slipping into a narrow alley. Victoria skidded to a stop, glaring at Tom. “Cut it off! Go around the other side!”
“On it!” Tom said, dashing down a side street.
Victoria, Alex, and Emily charged into the alley, where the goose was cornered against a stack of barrels. It honked defiantly, holding the bread high like a trophy.
“Alright, bird,” Victoria said, stepping forward. “This is your last chance. Drop the bread, and we’ll let you go.”
The goose didn’t move.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Victoria muttered, lunging forward.
Before she could grab it, the goose leapt onto the barrels, flapping its wings. It launched itself into the air just as Tom appeared at the other end of the alley.
“Got it!” Tom yelled, leaping dramatically.
He didn’t get it.
The goose sailed over his head, honking triumphantly as it landed on a rooftop.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Victoria yelled.
Emily craned her neck. “How does it still have the bread? Shouldn’t it have dropped it by now?”
“Never underestimate a goose,” Alex said grimly.
“New plan,” Victoria said. “Emily, find something to distract it. Alex, see if you can climb up there.”
“What about me?” Tom asked.
“You just… try not to make it worse,” Victoria said.
“Rude,” Tom muttered, but he stayed put.
Emily found a handful of grain at a nearby stall and tossed it onto the ground. “Hey, goose! Look! Snacks!”
The goose peered over the edge of the roof, considering the offering. Its grip on the bread loosened slightly.
“Almost there,” Alex said, climbing onto a stack of crates.
The goose honked, apparently deciding it didn’t trust them. With a mighty flap of its wings, it dropped the bread and took off into the sky.
Tom caught the loaf mid-air, holding it up like a trophy. “Victory!”
“It’s covered in goose spit,” Alex pointed out, hopping down from the crates.
“It’s still ours,” Victoria said firmly, taking the bread from Tom. “We’re cleaning it, and we’re eating it. End of story.”
Emily giggled. “I feel kind of bad for the goose.”
“Why?” Victoria asked. “It got away.”
Tom grinned. “And it got what it wanted.”
The group turned to see the goose, now perched triumphantly on a nearby roof, munching on a chunk of bread it had apparently stashed before the chase.
Victoria groaned. “I hate this town.”