The Silver Moth

By the end of the week, whispers, rumors, and complaints had already filled the studios. Flyers began to appear on walls in bold letters: NUTCRACKER AUDITIONS: CASTING UNDER NEW DIRECTION. 

“And now, I ask everyone to welcome our new artistic director of Davis Ballet Academy, Ms. Astrid Elodie!”

Studio 2’s doors opened to applause as a tall woman with dark brown hair walked confidently across the room. Her hair was pulled into a sleek, high bun, and she wore a long red dress with black heeled boots that echoed against the floor with every step. 

“Good evening, fellow dancers,” she said smoothly. “I am Astrid Elodie, former principal ballet dancer, world-renowned instructor, and the new director of this amazing ballet school.”

A polite smile crossed her red lips. “As you may know, Mr. Davis is no longer the principal of Davis Ballet Academy, but don’t worry, you’re in good hands.”

Then she paused, and her smile dropped.

“Your future in this industry can be shaped into glory or crushed beneath my footsteps.” Her voice never rose, yet each word landed with weight.

Silence filled the room.

“I expect absolutely nothing less than perfect technique, respectful mouths, and responsible young stars.” 

Then she continued, “Mr. Davis may have raised confident, mediocre dancers,” Ms. Astrid continued, “but confidence without excellence leads nowhere. Under my direction, only the most talented rising ballerinas will remain dancing.”

Soon enough, some clapped eagerly, eyes bright with ambition. Others stared straight ahead, hands frozen in their laps, silently wishing for Mr. Davis to return.

Eloise Riley fell right in the middle.

At 12-years-old, Eloise had been one of Mr. Davis’s most praised students. Her technique wasn’t flawless, it wasn’t even close, but she danced with heart. Whenever she moved, a story followed, and that was what Mr. Davis had taught her ballet was meant to be. 

She had always loved to dance, but being in the spotlight made her stomach twist into knots. She didn’t have the natural talents some of the other students had. Her heart danced boldly, but her body always trembled with doubt. 

Now, with the perfectionist Ms. Astrid in charge, Eloise didn’t know what mattered more. She wondered whether she should feel excited for the chance to sharpen her technique, or afraid that the demand for perfection might overpower the heart of ballet. She shrank slightly in her seat, hugging her arms to her chest and her hands twisted nervously in her lap. 

By the end of the week, whispers, rumors, and complaints had already filled the studios. But nobody’s opinion mattered around here, not anymore. Things only got more serious from there. Flyers began to appear on walls in bold letters: NUTCRACKER AUDITIONS: CASTING UNDER NEW DIRECTION. 

Everyone was nervous, but Eloise was distressed. She couldn’t sleep the night before, realizing this was the first real test under Ms. Astrid. Eloise had a dream role in mind, one she wanted so bad that it felt personal. Mr. Davis had told her that she was not old enough last year, but now, Eloise was terrified that Ms. Astrid would decide she wasn’t good enough. Eventually, exhaustion pulled Eloise under her thoughts and that night, she dreamt about dancing under the spotlight as Clara, looking out into the audience in the sparkly light blue gown, maybe even seeing a proud smile from Mr. Davis. 

Then, the day came. 

The studios were packed with little kids, teens, faculty, and parents. Little Children sat in their parents’ laps, crying, and some ran around the room. The older dancers mostly stretched quietly. Some of them had intimidating looks on their faces and stared down each person as they walked in. Eloise found a place to put her bag near her friends. The girls there were her age, which meant they would be Eloise’s competition today. Eloise was mostly confident, but her biggest rival seemed like Gabriella Jones. 

Gabriella was also 12-years-old and she was an amazing technician. She was one of those “natural-talents”. The ones born with natural flexibility, a graceful physique, long limbs, and natural musicality. Until now, Eloise had always been selected for roles over Gabriella because of her artistry, but now, Eloise was afraid that it didn’t matter at all to Ms. Astrid. 

“May I have all female dancers aged 11-12 come with me upstairs? Make sure you have your number pinned to your leotards and bring a water bottle if you need, nothing else is to come upstairs with you,” one of the teachers said as all the girls lined up in front of the door. 

Eloise and the other dancers walked into Studio 7 and stood in a straight line across the back wall, facing Ms. Astrid and 2 other “judges”, in number order. 

“All right. Hello everyone, my name is Ms. Kelly and I will be teaching you your audition choreography for today,” one of the “judges” stood up and introduced herself. 

“I’ll teach you Clara’s dance in the party scene and then you will be split up into 3 groups to perform it in front of Ms. Astrid today,” Ms. Kelly continued.

“If there are no questions, I may as well get started! So we are going to start in the upper left corner of the studio as the music will start. 5,6,7,8 and…” As Ms. Kelly started teaching the choreography, all Eloise could do was worry about messing up the dance. She only had around half an hour to learn the dance, then perform it flawlessly in front of Ms. Astrid. She was so incredibly nervous, but Eloise couldn’t make any mistakes. 

The next 2 weeks were scary for everyone. After auditions, every dancer anxiously waited for the casting list to be posted, and for Eloise, it was more nerve-wracking than the actual audition itself. 

“Everyone come look. The casting list has been released!” one of the younger dancers called out. Eloise and the other students quickly turned their heads then ran out the door towards the main bulletin. 

“Weird,” Eloise thought. It hadn’t been the full two weeks that she was expecting to wait, it had barely even been one week since the casting auditions. 

Eloise stuck her head through the crowd to take a peek at the light green sheet of paper that was pinned onto the large brown bulletin. The top of the list said, DAVIS BALLET ACADEMY NUTCRACKER CASTING LIST. Below it was a three-column chart with the nutcracker roles on one column, the cast student of that role, then the understudies. 

Eloise carefully read down the list, lambs, reindeer, party children… until she saw Clara. She looked at the name next to it, Gabriella Jones. Then, without much hope she looked at the understudies. Eloise Riley. 

That night, Eloise didn’t know how to feel about her casting. She wasn’t cast as Clara, which was what she had worked and wanted for forever. But Eloise was the only understudy. If anything had happened to Gabriella and she wasn’t able to perform, Eloise was the only other option Ms. Astrid had. Eloise was slightly disappointed, but she decided to commit to the role. From there, every rehearsal, Eloise was present. Watching Ms. Astrid praise Gabriella for her perfection and scold others of their imperfections. Eloise practiced the role every night in her bedroom and in the corner of the studio during rehearsals, silently wishing for something to happen so she would get a chance to dance. 

“And a 1 and a 2, STOP,” Ms. Astrid yelled. “This line is supposed to be a straight diagonal line down the center of the stage. Arms are in fifth position and they stay there. They don’t move,” Eloise watched the stage rehearsal from the wings seeing the stage lights flash once again. They flickered off for a few seconds and silence filled the space. Only a moment later, the lights flickered back on and everything continued normally. It happened every time Ms. Astrid yelled a correction. No one else had seen it but Eloise slowly felt it creeping up to her. But she had to stay focused if she wanted any chance of performing. Listening to every word Ms. Astrid said in rehearsal, Eloise thought that the production was boring. Very boring. She had watched it a couple times through while understudying for her role and it had no flare to it. No story, no artistry. 

“Let me be honest, this whole production is a mess. Gabriella is the only one actually demonstrating proper ballet technique. The rest of you look like this is your first time ever dancing. I want to see clear positions, straight lines, precise footwork, and nothing less,” Ms. Astrid looked down the line of girls she was scolding, as if she was shooting lasers out of her ice blue eyes. “And nothing less. Do you unders…" She was interrupted by a stage manager asking for her attention. 

“I’m so sorry to be interrupting your rehearsal, but Mrs. Jones is outside and wants to talk to you,” Ms. Astrid walked as fast as she could to the exit door in her high heels. 

"Gabriella's mom is here to talk to Ms. Astrid,” Eloise thought. Eloise knew Mrs. Jones’ personality. She was rich, she was proud, and she thought that she was always right. Knowing Ms. Astrid also had a strong personality, Eloise knew something wouldn’t go right between the two. 

Then another stage manager walked onto the stage to inform everyone in the rehearsal of something. 

“Students, we dearly apologize for this, but the rest of today’s rehearsal is cancelled. Ms. Astrid is in a very important conversation and she will not be available to continue today. Everyone is dismissed, and Eloise, please stay to talk to me for a moment. 

“What’s wrong?” Eloise thought. She had never been so nervous to hear someone say her name before. 

As Eloise walked up to the stage crew, they told her, “We cannot tell you all the details yet, but there is a chance you will need to perform Clara. Don’t worry about Gabriella or Ms. Astrid, just make sure you know what you are doing by tomorrow.”

That night, Eloise stayed up reviewing every correction and detail in her bedroom. She tried to be as quiet as possible, but her excitement made her dance around like crazy. It all started when Eloise accidentally knocked over a cup. Then her books all fell down to the floor by themselves. And slowly, all of Eloise’s clothes began to levitate and create a floating pile in the air with a silver beam of light shining through. The lights flickered again, and the mysterious magic continued for a couple seconds. Eloise was too scared to move, so she just watched. Then, the beam of light exploded out, knocking out everything. 

The next thing Eloise saw was a shining silver moth in front of her. What she saw after that was that her room was a complete disaster. Broken cups, clothes on the floor and ripped books, it looked as if a tornado had struck her bedroom. 

“Don’t worry, I can fix it for you,” a voice said. Then, the clothes levitated back on the hangers, the books floated into place on their shelves, and broken pieces of furniture mended back together. 

Eloise turned her head towards the window, then the door. No one was in her room. Just her and the little moth. 

“This can’t be. Are you a talking moth? Did you do this?” Eloise asked, frightened. 

“Woah, I can answer one question at a time. But first, let me introduce myself!” The silver moth suddenly started flying around Eloise. 

“I don’t have time for this. I know you’ve been watching me, and I need to know why you’re here,” Eloise quickly said. 

“I am a spirit. Believe it or not, Mr. Davis sent me…” 

Eloise interrupted the moth, “Mr. Davis?! How do you know him?”

“Listen! I am a spirit that is part of a bigger group of spirits, called ghost lights. I don’t think I’m allowed to tell you everything right now, but what I can say is that Mr. Davis is a part of the ghost lights, and we need your help,” the moth explained.

Then, it continued, “Ghost lights have maintained and monitored the heart of ballet for centuries. We can see what everyone sees and everything they don’t see. We know what keeps the opera house sold out every night, and we see it disappearing,”

“And how do you think I can help with that?”

“I guess all you really need to know is that Ms. Astrid’s perfectionism is destroying what the audience really wants to see. The artistry. You know you can do that better than any other dancer at Davis Ballet Academy. And Mr. Davis, as well as all the other ghost lights are counting on you. Counting on you to bring back the magical moments that makes a nutcracker performance special. We’ve been trying to send signs that you need to take action, but humans seem clueless these days.”

“You were the one flickering the lights?” Eloise asked.

“Not me, but we. Eloise, all the ghost lights see your potential to bring the magic back into the production, but it won’t happen unless you stand up to Ms. Astrid. We’ve made sure that nothing will stand in your way, but you need to prove to Ms. Astrid yourself,” the moth said. 

“But you don’t understand. I can’t afford to embarrass or make myself look selfish in front of Ms. Astrid. I have to follow the rules, or I won’t be dancing here much longer.” 

 “Well, I think Mr. Davis has something to say to that,” the moth flew away as a familiar figure appeared in front of Eloise.

“Mr. Davis!” Eloise cried, stepping forward to wrap her arms around her teacher, only to feel nothing as they slipped through his ghostly form.

“Eloise, you’ve been through so much with Ms. Astrid. But I didn’t come to speak about her. I came to speak about you. You need to prove to her that dance is not only perfection, it’s the heart of a dancer that brings the standing ovations out. Not flawless technique.”

“But what if I mess everything up?” Eloise said, her hands trembling, “I only have one chance to show her the dance tomorrow and what if she says it’s not good enough?”

“Eloise,” Mr. Davis started gently, “one dance does not define who you are. Roles can be lost, and expectations may change, but your passion for dance is something no one has the power to suspend. You earned the chance to show Ms. Astrid what you can do. Tomorrow isn’t about being perfect, it's about dancing honestly, from your heart, and owning the spotlight.”

As he finished, Mr. Davis’ comforting image slowly faded, leaving behind only a soft ripple of warmth in the air. The room felt colder and emptier. For a few moments, Eloise was left alone, lost, and unsure. She was afraid, but she knew what was right. It didn’t matter if Ms. Astrid wasn’t pleased with her performance, it didn’t matter if it wasn’t perfect. What mattered was trusting herself, letting her heart lead, and telling a story with every movement.

The next morning, the theater buzzed with quiet anticipation like the calm before the storm. Today was the last stage rehearsal before tech runs, full lights, full orchestra, full costuming. It was also Eloise’s first time performing Clara in front of Ms. Astrid, and she was beyond nervous.

Eloise stood in the wings, her heart hammering as Ms. Astrid took her seat and the music started. Every correction, every whispered reminder from the ghost lights and Mr. Davis replayed in her mind. She wasn’t perfect yet, but she was ready to dance from her heart. 

When her cue struck, she stepped forward. Each movement told a story only she had the power to share. It was the joy of Clara’s first party, the wonder of twinkling lights, the excitement of being in the spotlight. It felt as if Mr. Davis and the ghost lights were guiding her from somewhere just beyond the wings.

From the corner of the stage, she caught Ms. Astrid’s sharp eyes, frozen in judgment. Her expression was unreadable and Eloise’s stomach twisted with fear. But she let it pass because she wasn’t dancing for approval, she danced for her story, for the magic that ballet had brought into her life. Every step carried her courage forward, and every gesture reached out to the empty seats beyond the stage. 

When the final note ended, silence filled the theater. Eloise held her last pose, chest rising, aware of every heartbeat. 

As a small applause from her friends and the other staff continued, Eloise’s eyes drifted to the shadows near the back of the theater. A faint silver flow winked and vanished, just like a familiar spark of guidance. Or maybe a ghostly nod of approval. 

Ms. Astrid’s ice-blue eyes lifted and she tapped a pen against her clipboard saying, “Interesting.” Her voice was calm and measured, almost like a murmur to herself.

“You… move with something beyond technique. It caught my eye today,” she paused, then turned and walked towards the door. 

“We will see,” she said over her shoulder as she walked into the wings and through the door.

A soft warmth spread through Eloise’s chest, and a smile crossed her nervous face. The role wasn’t confirmed and the future remained uncertain. But she knew that she had danced from her heart, and for the first time, she trusted herself completely. That confidence, that passion, it was hers, no one could take it away. And somehow, she felt the magic was still there, waiting.