A Special After School Message

Peering back to where she was learning not even an hour ago the ways of the world Airine combatted the deathly chill wearing two parka jackets filled with deep pockets.

“Check, roger, check,” the young girl made sure all her belongings were in place preparing for anything during the planned afternoon wintry hike exercise, “skis, poles, valentine arrows, peanut butter jelly sandwiches, and of course Momma’s magical jar.”

Performing another miracle, the future royal leader figured out how to travel despite all the baggage needed to successfully complete the mission.

“Yes, I know I have a frozen pond as a recess area for a reason,” she thought fitting on the skis before heading into the woods. Using the poles to assist in using gliding leverage the athletic lady knew doing things this way was much quicker than marching on a course designed for summer romance.

Despite the eerie setting the golden-haired academic decided to hum the poetic rhymes she jotted down last night after finishing Mr. Mokytojas’ homework assignment.

“I am tired of being nice

Paying the price

Ending problems by sacrifice

Saying I forgive you

For what you do

Please do not groan

From your hypocritical throne

And if you don’t

I won’t

Allow

Me to bow

To your evil growl

Take this as a warning

We are done touring

And remember this

It is peace that is my wish”

When the lyrics had nothing more to say the path ended revealing smoke coming from the very spot where a special guest each year invaded leaving gifts on a holiday night stopping only to enjoy the cookies and milk left as thank you for a kind gesture.

“It must be really warm in there,” Airine thought finding an abandoned picnic table isolated right outside the sweet home. Soon the Nordic traveling device was disengaged and the knapsack zipper opened to reveal the luncheon snack.

“Yes, the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches Momma made me for recess,” she smiled remembering ice skating was more important than eating during rest time. Returning to the packed contents Airine found the magical jar and after one slice was turned over, she wiped the gooey concoction onto the bread.

“With the added love you are supposed to enhance my performance,” Airine reminded the meal that was supposed to be consumed midday. Then two figures inside the house appeared, and she identified them both, “Vladimir” and “Princess Bella Russia.”

Continuing to enjoy the afterschool snack the youthful power player noticed tension between the pair and her bloody beating organ played sending a musical message, “You must do something to cool things down.” Fate followed when Vladimir opened the window and there sitting on the table was a lamb’s leg.

“I got an idea,” Airine perked up, “now that my performance will be enhanced due to the magical jar’s loving act maybe this will work.”

Taking a Valentine style arrow from her arsenal satchel she wiped the artistically designed bullet with all the substance left in the magical jar. Giving it a serious stare Airine commanded, “now once you are in the lamb’s leg disappear but leave the potion inside, you hear.”

Sticking the wooden weapon in the bow Airine felt the magical jar’s influence as she concentrated on the mark. “Go do your stuff!” She snapped and watched the flying rod smoothly fly through the window perfectly pricking the dinner. And without a sound the lovely tap weapon transformed into ashes resembling parsley leaving a diplomatic message that later in the evening would flow through the veins spreading positive emotion bringing a truce to the angry situation.

Putting back on the skis Arine headed home never wondering if everything was a success. Upon reaching safe she left all her baggage by the front door getting lured when an aroma reminded her that there are important things other than influential competitive maneuvers.

“Smells good,” her innocent smile wondered, “what could it possibly be?”

“Oh, I do not know,” her mother answered, “just something I created.”

“Did you use the magical jar?”

“Well, yeah you and your brother, the Prince, need to talk,”

“About what?”

“Apparently,” the mother started to explain, “your friend Jason did not let him score a goal.”

“Well, Mom, I tell Jason sometimes you have to let something go through sometimes,” Airine honestly stated, “it is just a game not a rival army wanting you to drop your guard.”