The day that the easternmost division of Quarkle scribes ran out of things to write down, the weather was perfect, as usual, in the realm of Quarkopolis. Caught by surprise, the invisible beings shook the sparkling dust off their figurative feet and tentatively glanced around.

“What now, Minoeth? You’re the ‘not-so-fearless’ but ‘way smarter than any of us’ leader. Any ideas?” one of the duller scribes croaked out the words with his spine-tingling voice. He’d lost his voice when he had partially lost his light back in the day.

“Of course I have an idea. No need to reiterate that our purpose is to put sparks back into humans. You know it as well as I do. So, in light of that, here’s what we’re going to do.” Minoeth paused for effect and then went on, “We’re going to go through the zillions of historical stories in the archives, pull some out, and retell them to our human writers. We’ll put them together in some organized fashion, probably alpha order, and then have Zane distribute them to other writers for encouragement.

The Quarkle scribes stood amazed at such a simple yet profound plan. With knowing looks, they all nodded in agreement as Minoeth laid out the details for the astounding project.

So that day, the Quarkle Chronicles were born, all because of surprise and dismay at having nothing to inscribe, describe, or scribe.

Quarkle Chronicles № 1

The enormous castle was visible to the lush forest, the birds, the insects, and the giants. Aahron shaded his plate-sized eyes from the midday sun as he walked gingerly among the ferns planted around the property.

“Er, it’s not good, not good at all,” he exhaled loudly, causing the nearest trees to sway slightly.

Aahron was depressed. He was discouraged. He was not happy at all.

Lately, there’d been an influx of misfits coming to the castle to live. Which wasn’t a problem, except it was a problem. Not a problem because no matter how many misfits came to live there, the castle never failed to grow more rooms.

On the other hand, it was a problem because Aahron didn’t feel he fit in with the misfits. He never had, but even more so as the castle population grew.

The team of invisible Quarkles flew around Aahron in their animated forms, whispering in his gigantic hairy ears, offering encouragement and hope. There were miniature butterflies, hummingbirds, dragonflies, bumblebees, and more. Indescribable colors and harmonious melodies filled the air around the giant.

The spark that the Quarkles ignited in Aahron that day was part of their plan. What they didn’t anticipate was the size of the spark.

As Aahron flung out his arms and cried out with relief and happiness, the trees of the forest flung out their arms and cried out with anguish and pain.

A lesson was learned that day that went down in Quarkle history.

‘The spark giveth and the spark taketh away.’

The Quarkle Chronicles are stand alone stories extracted from historical events told for your enjoyment and convenience. Each is intended to bring a spark of encouragement to your life and heart.