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 was the hottest day of summer in Midtown, the kind of heat that made you question why you even bothered to get out of bed. The village square was a chaotic mess of sweaty children, desperate parents, and vendors yelling about their overpriced lemonade. Under the shade of an old oak tree, Tom, Victoria, Alex, and Emily sat like sloths, half-heartedly sharing a tub of blueberry ice cream that was rapidly becoming blueberry soup.
“This is perfect,” Alex said, letting a spoonful drip into his mouth. “Until it’s not.”
Tom pointed at the queue by the ice cream cart. “Better savour it. That queue’s a death march.”
Suddenly, the sound of shouts interrupted their melting bliss.
“FREEZE! NO, WAIT, DON’T FREEZE!” a vendor yelled, his arms flailing like a windmill.
The group turned to see what was happening and immediately wished they hadn’t. Atop the ice cream cart was a creature that looked like a cross between a bird, a firework, and an oven set to “cremate.” It was licking a cone like it was the last dessert on Earth, and every lick sent sparks flying. Around it, smaller versions of the creature—just as shiny, just as mischievous—were dive-bombing the village, snatching frozen treats and leaving chaos in their wake.
“Sunlings,” Emily whispered. “I’ve read about these little pyromaniacs. They’re obsessed with sweets, but they’re not supposed to leave their realm.”
Tom groaned. “Well, they’re here now, and they’re turning Midtown into a giant microwave.”
As if on cue, the air around the square shimmered, rippling as though the heat itself was alive. A kid screamed as their ice block dissolved into sticky goo.
“This is getting out of hand,” Victoria said, dodging a rogue Sunling that had a churro in a headlock. “The adults are useless!” She pointed to a vendor shouting, “Bad bird! BAD!” at the largest Sunling, who couldn’t care less.
“We’ve got to lure them away,” Tom said. “They’re obsessed with ice cream, right? Let’s give them what they want.”
Tom sprinted to the ice cream cart, where the vendor was curled up behind the counter. “I need all the ice cream you’ve got!” Tom shouted.
The vendor peeked out. “Take it! Take everything! Just make it stop!”
Tom grabbed a bucket and started shovelling in scoops like his life depended on it. Meanwhile, Victoria and Alex took on the dangerous task of distracting the Sunlings. Victoria waved her arms, shouting, “Hey, look! A double-scoop over here!” Alex, ever the brave fool, held out a melting ice block.
“Come on, you shiny gremlins! You want this, don’t you?” he taunted, backing away as they swarmed towards him.
“This is working,” Victoria said. “Kind of. Sort of. Not really.”
“Tom, move faster!” Alex yelled, narrowly avoiding a Sunling that decided his hair looked like fairy floss.
Tom returned, holding a bucket so full of ice cream it looked like a technicolour volcano. “Alright, follow me, you little sugar addicts!”
He took off towards the edge of the square, the Sunlings buzzing after him like overenthusiastic toddlers at a birthday party. Emily, Victoria, and Alex ran after him, making sure none of the creatures got distracted.
In a meadow outside the village, Tom finally stopped and set the bucket on the ground. The Sunlings surrounded it, chirping and squealing as they dove in face-first. For a moment, the group thought they’d succeeded.
“Now what?” Alex asked, catching his breath. “We can’t babysit them forever.”
“Look!” Emily said, pointing to a shimmering patch of air near some trees. “That’s a weak spot in the veil. If we can get them through there, they’ll go home.”
Tom hesitated. “What if they don’t want to leave?”
“They’re eating ice cream out of a bucket,” Victoria said. “I don’t think they’re big on long-term planning.”
Tom picked up the bucket and placed it just inside the shimmer. The Sunlings paused, their heads tilting as if deciding whether to trust him. Then, one by one, they fluttered through the portal, taking the bucket with them. The largest Sunling stopped before entering, turning to the group with what could only be described as a smug grin, before vanishing into the light.
The portal closed, and the meadow fell silent.
Alex flopped onto the grass. “If anyone asks, we handled that with dignity and professionalism.”
“Sure,” Tom said, wiping melted ice cream off his shirt. “Let’s go with that.”