“That’s okay. Bye then—come with us next time! We’ll be back before it’s too dark.”
Wispy opened their mouth to respond, but they had nothing to say and just smiled sweetly. Twila and the rest of the team happily grinned back before turning around in a synchronized line and rolling off, still chattering away.
Wispy shut the door with a sigh. They stalked to the living room and collapsed on the couch, the euphoria of the day’s medal having completely evaporated and leaving only a strange nagging feeling that began to gnaw at their insides. Usually, they would have loved to go and party with their team.
Evening was starting to fall. Wispy could hear the birds singing softly outside the window, and as they lay there, a thought sparked inside of them. They rose, swiftly grabbing their pass and stalking to the door.
Orlango’s summer night air was crisp and cool, and leaves rustled gently along the breeze. The coach’s building appeared in Wispy’s vicinity a few minutes later. As soon as they entered, they beelined for the elevator, quickly exiting on the third floor. After swiping their pass, they opened the door.
Wespy was asleep. On the bed, but sat upright, with papers strewn across the duvet.
Wispy just stood, watching for a minute, before they scooped the papers up in a neat pile and quietly sat down on the opposite end of the bed.
Just two years ago, it had been them. Wispy and Wespy, together after their medal in the first event, though admittedly in a more dramatic spot. That was Wispy’s first event without their captain’s badge in five years. And now you’re captain again, Wispy thought.
Wespy looked peaceful. Stars had begun to emerge outside, showering the sky in a beautiful web of glittering lights.
—
Meanwhile, the rookies of the Midnight Wisps had decided to go on a trip across Orlango’s urban coast after their stellar silver performance in the Swing Wave. After exploring landmark after landmark, they stumbled into a colossal shopping district—Orlango’s most famous one. Yvaine, Amaya, and Eve all rolled off to explore the area in more depth, but Twila stayed rooted to the spot. They were not used to their surroundings at all.
“Twila! We don’t want to lose you! Hurry up!” Eve’s calls were able to break Twila out of their trance.
“Uh—coming—”
Just as Twila was about to roll off towards the rest of their team, they suddenly bumped into two other marbles—with familiar blue streaks and shiny gold medals slung around them.
“Heya, Twila! Wanna join us? We’re going shopping with Tarocco.” Siren rolled over with Nereid by their side.
Twila turned around to face their team, looking at them with a playful glare. “Ah, newbie reunion, huh?”
“Exactly! Come on, let’s head to that cafe over there. ‘Rocco’s waiting.” Nereid grinned, looking right ahead.
—
Orlango’s beach was perfect for a postcard — its sun-kissed sands and glittering waves, its cotton-white clouds in the sky which were trimmed with silver in daytime and gold in sunset, its seafoam which swirled in hypnotic eddies, round and round. Murky took a meditative breath, drinking in the coastal air and listening to the water lapping against sand.
Funnel Endurance, as the name implied, was a test of attrition. Feeling the seconds tick up as the number of opponents trickled down, down, down, like water from a leaky faucet, until it was their own turn to drip down the final funnel.
The sharp cry of a seagull shook Murky out of their stupor, and they uncrumpled the square of printer paper they’d been holding. It read:
Party on the beach 2nite awesome podium marbs only!!! Come down to the citrus lagoon at 4. There will be drinks. There will be sand. There will be sliding k thx pls come
The watermarks were still visible on the clipart.
“I’ve come to the right place, right?” they murmured, glancing around them. It was empty, save for a crab scuttling over a pile of seaweed.
“Murky!” called a voice from far away, and they whirled around in its direction. Indie was there, waving at them. “Over here!”
Oh.
“Sorry,” Murky apologized as soon as they caught up. “I didn’t realize I went to the wrong place. The invite, uh…wasn’t very specific,” they finished lamely.
“You’re totally fine,” Indie reassured, passing them a bottle of juice. “Besides, you’re not the only one; we just found Astron a few minutes ago. Kinnowin couldn’t come, but Shelly texted Ounce earlier — oh, hello, Shelly.”
Murky opened their mouth to greet them too when Shelly embraced them with a startling eagerness, hugging them so tight they were briefly breathless. “Murky!” they exclaimed. “Congratulations!”
“You too,” they managed to squeak out. Shelly giggled.
“Heehee! You know, it’s so strange to me that you didn’t even see the ocean until you were all grown up! If I hadn’t been able to go to the beach as a kid, I don’t even know what I would have done…”
“A-ah…” Murky couldn’t quite think of a way to ask Shelly to extricate them from the hug — luckily, they didn’t need to, because as soon as Ounce came into view they were off in the other direction immediately, loudly calling out their name.
—
When Starry retired from the post-podium celebration and returned to their team’s private quarters, Astron was already there waiting for them, half-asleep in the waning evening light. They perked up at the sight of their teammate entering, Starry’s bronze medal a magnet for Astron’s gaze.
“What made you change your mind on coordinating accessories? You always said bronze wasn’t your colour,” Astron quipped, pouting for dramatic effect.
Starry didn’t reply until their evening shawl was on the coathanger. “Eve and Snowy,” they eventually conceded, and not without a certain reluctance.
Astron sighed sympathetically. “I hope you don’t take losing to a rookie to heart. Seems like that’s the trend this year.”
“I never would. I’d only like to have done better for our team’s sake. They’ll have enough trouble from Snowy, besides.”
“Oh?”
“Well…” Starry glanced to the side, unsure how frank to be. ”You know what I mean.”
—
“Here,” Tangerin said leadingly, decanting a tall bottle of lemon soda into Eve’s glass and winking the whole time it poured, “it’s on the house. Congrats on your first medal.”
Everything between Tangerin’s departure from the O’rangers and the opening of their new bar on the outskirts of town was spoken of only in conspiratorial whispers and ambiguous turns of phrase. It was fair to say that Eve didn’t know the half of it. But they knew a good bar when they saw one, and Tangerin’s was more than satisfactory. Too bad it smelled like sawdust and leather — though that in itself was part of the charm. Occasionally the saloon doors swung open and the atmosphere chilled, everyone looking towards the entrance in unison, anticipating the new entrant.
“Say,” Eve asked, curiosity finally overtaking them, “who’s everyone waiting for? Event nights are athlete-only, right?”
“Oh, that. I can’t tell you for sure, but… Ah, you shouldn’t worry about it. Keep your head clear and keep going.”
“What?” replied Eve. But if Tangerin heard them, they pretended they hadn’t, returning to scrubbing the counter in the vain hope of clearing its eternal layer of stickiness.
—
Berry had no love for post-event coach conferences. By their own estimation they’d never gained anything from attending, and it was only through Rango’s insistence that the 16 of them learn to coexist that they were at the post-Rodeo one.
Apparently, nobody else had gotten the message, and now they were alone with Rango- the last place they wanted to be.
“It’s impressive! You really beat us at our own game.” Smiley as Rango was, Berry couldn’t help but read an underlying current of frustration into their words. No doubt their plan for the first themed event of the League wasn’t for their biggest rivals to snap up two of the podium positions. “And here I thought you folks were a bunch of city slickers.”
“Well, not Razzy, but…” Berry paused to recompose themself. “It’s a physics question, mostly. Avoiding impact is nice, so you should run close to the center whenever possible, but if you’re going to hit the wall, it’s better if one of your teammates is buffering you.”
“Really?”
Berry nodded. “It’s all to do with the dispersal of force, shock, energy, that sort of stuff. I ran a lot of simulations. You saw it with the Pinkies—”
“Say, I never heard of those other two Thunderbolts members, is there another roster overhaul coming our way?” interrupted Rango jokingly. “Listen, I’ve gotta head off to HQ, but you keep it up. And come to the BBQ later!”
“Ah.” Well, it’s Rango, after all, Berry thought. “You too…”
Meanwhile, back in the team’s common room, Rozzy was already recuperating on the couch. Occasionally they picked at a bowl of oranges, peeled manually by Razzy as an apology for the rough treatment they’d endured during the event. Rizzy sat on the woven rug, flicking through TV channels.
“Hey, Speeders are getting interviewed. Want to give it a watch?”
“Sure,” Rozzy replied. “I could use a laugh.”
A veritable flock of reporters had shown up to grill Quickly outside the stadium walls, but as always, the Speeders’ coach was taking it in stride. “…nevermind that the deciding factor in a championship is often who can persevere with the cards on the table, not who sprints out the gate. I only need to bring up 2020 to prove my point.”
Rozzy feigned a yawn. “Or how you won the Ice Dash and then flunked 2024.”
“That said, we appreciate the criticism we’ve faced for our progress so far. This medal should go somewhere in proving that the Savage Speeders are not, and never will be, down and out.” Occasionally the camera lost its focus and brought Speedy, lingering blurrily in the background, into view. “For everything else; have patience.”
“Psssssh,” Rozzy sighed. “All bravado.”
“Sounds convincing to me. But maybe that’s just Quickly’s magic.”
“Whatever. I’d rather worry about us, anyway… Hey, any news on the food they’re bringing back?”
—
“Been a while since I’ve had an actual medal around me. Feels good… feels natural.”
Snowy’s disinterested expression spoke a thousand words, most of which were can’t relate. “Congratulations. You’re lucky I didn’t catch up.”
“Yeah, I suppose so. And we’re both lucky that Bumble kept swaying. Say—I vaguely remember it being customary to ask the other podiumsitters to dinner.”
Snowy shrugged. “I can’t. Business with the Glaciers… Maybe go find Dash.”
“Oh.” Sea’s face fell. “Enjoy, then.”
“See you around.”
—
Bumble was glad to escape the press conference room. They were promptly excused when Razzy arrived—fourth didn’t make for an exciting news story. They emerged in the now-deserted stadium and turned into the hallway, but stumbled back when they smacked into—
“Clutter! Sorry, I—”
Bumble apologized profusely, but Clutter only sparked to life after a few seconds. “Oh! Bumble!”
Bumble was perplexed. Clutter seemed to notice and grinned shiftily. “Uh—congrats today!”
Bumble scoffed. “Yeah, I didn’t choke my final run.”
The awkwardness quickly faded from Clutter’s face and was replaced by their signature smirk. “Yeah, I didn’t choke my semi-final run. But no, you had it worse.”
Bumble froze, to which Clutter chuckled. “Kidding. 4th is good. Don’t beat yourself up.”
“Yeah.” Bumble smiled. They started to roll down the hall together. “Thanks. Hey, this was your team’s first top-half finish, right? That’s good!”
“Yep. We’ve been doing great.” Clutter drawled, “Okay, but for real, I hope it helps. Tumult’s been stressed. I can tell they’re trying to hide it, but they are.”
Though they said it lightly, Clutter’s eyes suddenly filled with a dull sadness. Bumble flustered.
“Uh—hey, we made it out of that heat! That’s….something to be proud of.”
Clutter grinned, instantly returning to their usual state of excitement. “Oh my gosh, I was calculating my odds when I saw the pot assignments.”
Bumble laughed. “I was doing the same thing!”
They chuckled again, but quickly fell into silence—the struggles of the athletes they had beaten hanging over them. Together, they turned into the next hallway, the locker rooms, when Clutter opened their mouth to speak.
“But I feel so bad for—”
“I just—I don’t know what happened!” A new voice echoed around the room.
Bumble frowned. It was distant, drowned by layers of metal and concrete. They both subconsciously edged closer to the door beside them.
“This is all I’ve been training for! I actually thought I was good at sprint, and hurdles too—I did this two years ago! What’s wrong with me?”
Bumble’s heart panged. The words were laced with hurt, and sharp gasps hogged space between each sentence. They glanced at Clutter beside them, who grimaced. We shouldn’t be hearing this, this marble’s upset, Bumble wanted to say, but the words died in their throat as another voice cut through the air.
“Rapidly.”
Bumble stilled.
“Don’t cry.”
Quickly’s voice was soft. What happened after, Bumble didn’t know—heart pounding, they backed away from the room, but Clutter was frozen by the door. Their expression was hollow and hauntedly drained of color—for a second, Bumble could see the shadows of a certain ex-coach across their face. Only when they raced back and tugged at Clutter’s surface did they snap back and hastily follow them down the hall.
Credits
- Writers: Io Twelve, Toffeeshop, Kanzaki, Millim
- Copyeditors/Editors: GhostDM, Io Twelve, Toffeeshop, Millim
- Artists: Shimmer
- Reference: Marble League 2025 Events 1-5
- Release: 30/07/2024
Project Marblearth 