Submission (#1355) Approved

It began on a morning when the clouds hung low, not stormy, but heavy, as if they were holding a secret. Yuki, with her shimmering blue scales and the soft swishing tail, woke with a buzz in their chest and a prickling in their paws. Something was different in the air.

The air was unusually still today—no rustling breeze, no chirping creders, only the gentle hum of mist rolling over the glade. Yuki’s mane fluffed with energy. They didn’t know it yet, but today would be their first real experience with magic—their own magic.

After breakfast, they wandered toward the elder gardens, where a group was gently tending to thirsty bloomroot vines. The drought had lasted several days, and the plants drooped like sleepy ears. Yuki watched with curiosity as Elder Fira—a kind, soft-spoken Pawbird held her paws above the vines and whispered something only the plants seemed to understand.

From her palms, a shimmer of water danced into existence. Tiny droplets spun through the air like spinning pearls, falling gently onto the dry soil and soaking in with joy. Yuki gasped aloud.

“That’s magic?” She asked, inching closer. “Is that water magic?”

Elder Fira smiled. “This is Okwi. The same kind of magic that lives in you, little tide-tail.”

Yuki blinked. “Me? I don’t have any magic. I just… fall in puddles a lot.”

“You’ve had it since you were born,” she chuckled. “But it hasn’t had the chance to wake up yet.”

That night, Yuki couldn’t stop thinking about it. Water magic… inside her?

She dreamed of fountains and whirlpools and playful rivers with voices. And when she woke the next morning, her paws felt tingly, horns buzzed faintly, and her tail… dripped.

Dripped.

Not like they had splashed through dew, but like a stream was slowly unfurling from their tail tuft, trailing behind them as they walked.

Yuki galloped to the crescent pond, heart thudding like a drum. When she leaned over the water, her reflection was glowing—a faint ripple of light encircling them like morning mist.

Then it happened.

A bubble formed in the pond, not from the water below—but from her. It floated up, spiraling gently, glimmering with soft blue light, and popped in the air with a quiet chiming sound. Yuki’s jaw dropped.

She sat back and stared at her paws and tried again, concentrating. A flicker of shimmer formed between their claws—then suddenly, a burst!

A fountain of water erupted around them like a joyful geyser, soaking their mane and sending onlooking creders leaping in every direction. Yuki squealed, startled, but then began to laugh. It wasn’t scary at all—it was fun. It felt like dancing with rainclouds and tickling waterfalls.

But then… she sneezed.

BOOSH.

A wave of water exploded out from them, flooding the nearby glen and sending mushroom caps tumbling like boats in a storm. Yuki stared at the mess, eyes wide.

“Oh no…”

A moment later, a grumpy leloko poked their head from their flooded burrow.

“Some of us were napping, puddle-paws.”

Yuki’s ears flattened.

But Elder Fira arrived shortly, giggling warmly as she helped guide the water back into the stream with a flick of her paw. “Well, looks like your magic finally woke up,” she said.

Yuki beamed despite their soggy fur.

From that day forward, Yuki practiced a little more each sunrise and sunset—shaping droplets into butterflies, lifting water into gentle waves, and even making the plants smile again during dry spells.

Magic wasn’t just powerful—it was part of them. And Okwi, the magic of water, wasn’t about control or storms. It was about connection—to the rivers, the mist, the laughter of rain, and the rhythm inside her heart.

Yuki’s first magic didn’t just wake up—it danced.

Reward	Amount
✨ Coins	7