Fiction Fantastic 2025 Winning Story: “The Warm Arctic” by Helen Nunes

The story below is a winner from our Fiction Fantastic Young Writers Contest, open to all youth in Lane County. For more information on this contest, including how to enter, visit here. Support this program with a donation.

You can purchase this story in the 2025 Winners Anthology, Echoes of the Future.

“The Warm Arctic” by Helen Nunes, Fairfield Elementary School

Second Place, Elementary Level, 2025

The Warm Arctic

by Helen Nunes

Fairfield Elementary School

“Mother, can I hunt today?” I ask.

“No. The warmth has gotten dangerous for young foxes like you,” Mother replies.

“What warmth?” I say back.

“The Arctic is being harmed by the heat invading our homes,” Mother replies.

“But, you said it would never reach us because it’s too cold here,” I say.

“I know dear. But, sadly it has. And I can’t risk losing you. You’re all I have left,” she says, sniffling.

“But–” I can’t finish my sentence before I am interrupted

“Now I need to check the rabbit traps,” Mother says, clearly trying to shake off my questions.

“All right,” I say, getting the clue. I turn around and curl up in the cave.

“Stay here and don’t leave,” Mother replies, as I sit in silence.

I nod and she leaves me alone in the cave.

***

I miss my daddy. I miss the times when Mother would leave to go hunt and it was just me and him laughing at his terrible dad jokes. I miss the times I would wake up with nightmares and go to Daddy, and he would just let me be there with him while he told me funny stories. Mother won’t tell me why he’s gone, or what happened to him. But I got the clue that what made him leave is happening now. Like my mother worried, I am scared–what if it happens to me? But most of all, what if it happens to Mother and I’m all alone? I’m still young, and I can’t survive on my own, especially with this warmth Mother keeps talking about. But I bet Daddy is safe. Probably just finding food. He’ll be back soon. I know it! I hope.

* * *

Waking up, I yawn. I hadn’t realized I had fallen asleep. It must’ve been hours by now, where is Mother?

“Morning, child,” Mother says walking into the cave.

“Hi, Mom! I was just wondering where you were. Any food scraps that the polar bears left for us?” I ask.

“No, but I found Old Man Polar Bear, the one who always leaves us a lot of scraps. He says that the food has been scarce lately because the warmth has gotten to the surface but not the sea yet, so the seals have been staying under the water lately, not even poking their heads out. The polar bears can’t stick their heads in the water forever, they’ll get frostbite,” says Mother.

“Oh. So no food this morning?” I replied sadly.

“Look, we’ll find food. I promise. All right?” she says.

“You promise?” I ask.

“I promise,” she says, comforting me.

***

“Mother, may I please come with you to go to Old Man Polar Bear’s house? It’s scary in here by myself,” I say.

“Fine, but we’re not going with Old Man Polar Bear to hunt, OK?” I cut her off before she finishes the rest of her sentence.

“OK!”

We walk through the snow to Old Man Polar Bear’s house. It’s an igloo, in case you were wondering. Old Man Polar Bear jumps happily out of his igloo.

“Hello, young’uns! Welcome to my humble igloo!” he says. Then he turns to me, “I heard from your mother you want to learn how to hunt on your own, not steal food from us polar bears!” He laughs a big deep laugh. I chuckle nervously with him.

“Oh, but us Arctic foxes just steal, not hunt. We weren’t made for that,” Mother replies, clearly not wanting me to hunt.

“Well, sooner or later the arctic will collapse into water, so why not teach her what she wants to learn. We don’t have much time left on Earth anymore,” Old Man Polar Bear says.

My ears twitch, and my heart starts beating faster. Will our time on Earth end soon? I haven’t lived long enough. I’m still a kit.

Mother notices me.

“Oh, Old Man, stop joking around. You’re scaring my little baby girl.”

“Uh oh, but I’m not joking. It’s going to happen sooner or later,” he says.

My mother gives him a look, he quiets down and does a scared smile.

***

We’re back at home, my heart still beating fast. My lungs are still breathing fast.

“Mother?” I say.

“Yes, dear?” she replies, dragging the food Old Man Polar Bear had been stashing for “This exact moment,” as he would say.

“Will our world be collapsing soon?” I ask.

“Oh, no dear. Old Man Polar Bear is . . . old. He has many folklore stories in him that he thinks are real,” she replies. “I promise we’ll get through this as long as we stick together. OK?” she says hopefully.

“I love you, Mother,” I say, squeezing her tight.

“Love you too, dearie,” she whispers back. “I promise, we will be just fine.”