Chapter 29: Sunflower Power
It turned out navigating the jungle was much easier with guides who knew the way. Where he’d once had to push aside dense foliage, he now followed paths he’d never notice on his own. Not to say it was easy, following the hunting party, but it did not require him to fight greenery for every inch of progress.
Russel was still ignoring him, though his wife, Zinnia had been much kinder. When he’d asked her how he could make himself useful she’d pointed him to the hunting party.
Foraging party, he corrected himself. They rarely ate meat here, with most native animals being insects that fed off the forest and each other. They instead lived off the abundance of natural food that grew here, gathering what they needed from the plants and flowers, which was the purpose of their mission today.
Apparently, a storm had wiped out much of their food stores, which was why they’d even let him join the foraging party in the first place, he figured. That was fine, he wanted to make himself useful to the people who were healing Mitts. That, and watching her rest in bed had him reliving that day in his head over and over, so this was his escape, selfish though it was.
If he’d been stronger, he could’ve taken the woman out and ran to help her sooner. If he’d been faster, well, he could’ve reached Mitts to take out the man sooner. If he’d been smarter, he would’ve just come up with a better plan and none of this would’ve needed to happen.
A little pricking sensation on his neck snapped him out of his thoughts, and he swatted away the snapdragon fly buzzing in his ear. They were a total nuisance, and he already decided he did not like them in the hour since they’d left the grove.
Ahead he saw his guides pause to inspect some regular sized flowers, though he’d no notion of what they’d be looking for. His guides were a man and a woman, presumably father and daughter from their appearances, the daughter being about his age. They were both lean but muscular, with tanned skin. They both wore the same flower material clothes he saw every villager wear, but theirs were plant green rather than the more colorful variations he’d seen.
They’d seemed to come to some sort of agreement as he caught up, and the woman turned and spoke to him.
“The berries will be a waste of time. We will go straight to the sunflowers. The village needs longer lasting food for our stores anyway. Follow, stranger.”
The woman’s terse words were probably the kindest he’d received outside of Zinnia’s. It felt like progress, though perhaps that’s just how these folks were. He felt it at least polite to try at conversation.
“I’m Dantes, what’s your name?”
Rather than answer, the woman looked away, setting on a path in a slightly different direction they’d been going previously. Before she’d turned, he thought he’d seen her face get a little red. He hoped he hadn’t made her angry.
From the father’s annoyed muttering, perhaps he had.
She spoke some time later as they approached an opening to a much looser underbrush, though the canopy above remained unbroken above, massive green stalks shooting up before parting into great yellow petals.
“These sunflowers are the source of most of our long term food stores. Today we want to retrieve six seeds. Care to show us how it’s done, Dantes?”
Feeling a bit put on the spot, he thought of ways he could climb these giant flowers. The plants had leaves shooting off the stem maybe ten meters apart vertically. The stem itself was about as wide as he was tall. Experimentally he grew his staff as long as it could go. It grew twice his height but did not reach even halfway to the lowest leaf.
He thought perhaps he could climb a neighbouring flower with more leaves, then use his staff to pole vault across, but that idea sounded even worse. Can you even pole vault off flowers? He didn’t want to find out firsthand. A new idea came to him.
“Do you have any rope?”
The woman smiled and nudged her father, who grumbled as he passed him a long coil of viney rope. It felt sturdy and not slippery in the least.
He thought about trying to throw the rope up and try to coil it around the leaf but decided against it as it felt like that would be a good way of falling a long distance, but this time without the wings.
He instead looped the rope around the stalk and looped both loose ends around his hands.
Giving the ropes an experimental tug, he pulled it taut and stepped up the stem. He braced himself, then shimmied the rope upwards and took another step. Like this, over the span of a couple minutes, he made his way up to the first leaf, where he rested in its crook and looped the rope past it so it wouldn’t get caught.
He looked down and saw the woman smiling at him and the father rolling his eyes, unpacking some gear from his backpack. Taking that as a good sign, he kept going.
It was arm burning work, needing to constantly pull the ropes tight around the stem, and his boots didn’t grip the stalk very well so there was sometimes a bit of scrambling for traction, but overall, his progress up was steady, quickly making it to the highest leaf before the flower.
He looked down to see his fellow foragers but instead almost headbutted the woman, climbing up onto the leaf with him.
She smiled at him, brushing the hair out of her eye, the sunlight filtered through, yellow on her face.
“You climb well. We used to do it like that too, but its much easier like this. See?”
She nodded at her boots, which he could see she’d attached thorns to the toes, one for each foot. She also set aside another pair of thorns she’d been holding as she sat on the leaf with him.
She then unwrapped a little leaf parcel tied to her belt and held something out to him. It was a sandwich with some sort of vegetable filling.
“Sandwich?”
“Yes, please.”
He examined it closer. The bread light brown and a bit crumbly, with chunks of nut in it, and inside he saw a variety of vegetables, like a salad sandwich. He saw lettuce, nuts, tomatoes, peppers, and some colorful flower strips he didn’t recognize. It was all glazed with something sweet and tangy that made his mouth water.
It tasted sublime. Maybe it was just that the only thing he’d eaten since the banquet three days ago was chopped peppers, but it tasted great in a way he hadn’t expected for somewhere so remote. And without meat no less.
“This is really good. Thanks!”
“Of course, Dantes. You’re helping our village in a time of need. It’s the least I could do.”
He nodded, but had a question for her, since she’d seemed to open up to him a bit.
“People don’t really seem to like me much. Is it because I’m not from here or something else?”
She nodded mid bite, taking a moment to chew before replying.
“It’s nothing against you, Dantes. People are warry of outsiders in the Florial jungle, that’s all. Often, they come through, wreaking destruction on the jungle, holding no regard for its health, taking more than they need and leaving a trail of destruction behind them. Or so I’m told. You’re the first I’ve met.”
She took another bite before continuing, the crunch of the lettuce the only sound between them.
“Rustles in the Wind says he found you at the Guardian Lily? He said you took the proper path out.”
“It felt like the right thing to do. It would’ve been a shame to crush them if I could just walk around.”
She nodded.
“I’m glad you think like that. Most don’t. Hey, is it true you were also talking to plants? Russel also said you were talking at everything you passed like a weirdo.”
He’d almost forgotten about that, the weirdness having quickly faded from his memory in the past day.
“Yes, but I haven’t heard from them today now that you mention it. Maybe they’re asleep?”
The woman laughed heartily like he’d made a funny joke. It was a pleasing laugh.
“Maybe you are crazy. But at least you are the right kind of crazy. Now, let’s head on up. Here I’ll take your rope up to save you some time.”
She checked her boot thorns were secure before she helped Dantes to his feet. In a whisper next to his ear, she spoke.
“Well met Dantes, I’m Violet.”
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
He felt something soft on his cheek before she turned and quickly scaled the final stretch up the stalk.
Not thinking much of it, he licked the crumbs off his fingers before Violet tossed the rope down. Quickly climbing the rope, he pushed through the dense yellow petals to finally arrive on top.
The light was near blinding, as he emerged on a cloudless day, sun beating down on him from above. He’d spent so long under the canopy he’d grown accustomed to the darker environment. Looking around, he saw flowers everywhere, of every type, just mixed together haphazardly, though sometimes little patches of one type prevailed here and there, as was the case here.
The sunflower he’d climbed was the tallest of any flowers nearby, though he saw the Guardian Lily towering in the distance. He was perhaps a tenth of the way up its giant stem.
Violet, seeing his gaze, said in a reverent voice.
“Our guardian spirit. She provides her protection to our village in times of need.”
“Like during the storm?” he asked.
“No, that was just part of nature. We will recover. She blesses these forests to be mostly safe. She healed me as a child too, when I was sick, and even elder Zinnia in the Wind could not break my fever.”
“So, she heals people when they’re sick. That’s nice of her.”
Violet nodded.
“It is a relationship of give and take. We give her honey when we can, and in return we receive her boons in times of need. Grandma told me her many greats grandma remembered a time when it was no higher than the flower we stand upon now. We give as we can so we can receive when we need. It’s our way.”
He felt there was wisdom in that, so he sat in silence and pondered her words. After a time of enjoying the flowers gently swaying in the wind, he heard saw Violet’s father drag himself onto the neighbouring plant.
Dantes was curious so he asked.
“Why did he choose a different flower. Couldn’t we harvest this one together?”
Violet responded.
“It’s his sign of respect for my abilities. He does it so I know he’s not worried in me falling because he has confidence in my skills. It’s very sweet of him” she said, waving to him.
The man yelled from across the flower tops.
“If you two are done flirting, how about you get to work!”
He withdrew something from his belt and starting poking and prying something out from his flower.
“My dad is Azalea by the Path, so you know. He’s a little grumpy about my personal life choices, but he’s got a good heart.”
She withdrew a wooden knife from her belt and set about cutting away a patch of the fluffy exterior of the flower.
With no knife of his own, he examined her working.
“What decisions, if you don’t mind me asking?”
She responded, face red from the sun above.
“I think he was hoping I’d choose a partner in the village. Settle down and choose a name together, you know? Close to home. It’s just I’m not interested in any of the guys my age. Or girls. There aren’t many, to be fair.”
He didn’t understand what she was saying at all, so he hummed in agreement. She continued.
“So now he’s worried I’ll be alone forever, you know? He doesn’t need to be worried. I can take care of myself.”
He nodded at that.
“You seem to be very capable, Violet. There’s no need to do things alone though. Good friends will be there when it gets tough alone. I won’t be here long, but if you need anything, you can just let me know.”
“Friends?” she said confused for a moment. “Oh, right. Yes. Of course, friends.”
It appeared he’d said something stupid again, because she didn’t say another word while she carved out a big seed about half his size. When she started trying to wiggle it out with her hands, he stepped in.
“Here, let me.”
With one smooth, satisfying pull, he slid it right out from its nesting among other similar seeds. The sunflower seed was surprisingly light despite its size, and he looked at her for confirmation before he pulled three more out in quick succession.
“Very impressive, Dantes. Say, how many of these do you think you could carry?”
He had to think. They weren’t as heavy as they looked, but they were big and awkward.
“Maybe fifty or so if I could fit them all on me. Probably only four or so just because of their size.”
Violet took a moment, digging a thorn into one of the seeds, before shouting a question to her dad.
“Dad! You have any extra thorns?”
Her dad looked back at her and shouted back.
“Dozens! Yours break? I’ll get you some!”
“No! I’m thinking we can bring back enough in one trip!”
“Okay dear! I trust your judgement!”
She turned back to Dantes now.
“Can you pick fifty of these?”
He supposed he could, though carrying that many in his arms wouldn’t be feasible. He got to work anyway, ripping out the seeds one at a time. As he pulled them out, Violet carried them over to the edge, dropping them to the jungle floor below.
After a few minutes had passed, he heard a droning sound in the distance and a gasp from Violet.
“Dantes, look! A hummingbird!”
Indeed, it was, the bird already large in the distance and rapidly approaching, zig zagging towards them, stopping only briefly once in a while to sip nectar from the treetop before hopping to another one, closer this time.
As it approached, he saw it was even bigger than the one he’d seen before, maybe double its size.
From it he heard a voice, carrying over the thrum.
“Greetings, foragers of the Dandelion Grove village! I bring word from the conclave!”
He heard an awed whisper from Violet, nearly snatched away from the loud thrumming that filled the air.
“A knight.”
Her father responded.
“What word from The Circle? We will deliver it to our grove!”
He saw a woman as she stood from where she’d been seated on the hummingbird’s back, the faintest glow of magic shining around her.
“We’ve reports of dying plants and wildlife in the northern jungle! The Circle suspects fowl magics at play! Be on the lookout for strangers!”
With her piece said, the woman sat back down on the flitty bird and zoomed off into the distance, the thrum dying down until it was eerily quiet, except for the wind rustling softly through the flowers.
Violet seemed to be giddy with excitement.
“I’ve never seen one before in person” she hissed. “Did you see that? She was so cool! I wonder how she keeps her balance?”
“Who was that?” he asked, a bit confused about what had just happened. It was beginning to be a common occurrence as of late.
“A knight of The Circle. The Circle is sworn to protect the balance of the jungle, and the knights are sworn to protect the Circle.”
“What about that hummingbird? It was even bigger than the other one I saw, though I don’t think anyone was riding that one.”
Violet dropped a seed she’d been carrying.
“You saw another one? Without a rider? Where? When?”
“Woah. Yeah, just the other day when I was looking for food near the lily. In a field of daisies. Are they rare?”
She sighed.
“Well, not so much rare, just you almost never see a younger one outside the Circle’s grove. It’s said once they get old enough, they seek out someone to bond with. When I was young, it was my dream to be a knight. I practiced swordplay and riding leaves blowing in the wind to practice. Unfortunately, I learned how uncommon it is when I shed my family name and became an adult. There are hundreds. Thousands of groves around the Florial jungle. Want to guess how many bonds are made a year?”
“Ten or twenty?” he said conservatively. Surely it wouldn’t be fewer than that.
“Two” she responded, looking away. “Two villages in a thousand can expect to have one of their number chosen every year. And it wouldn’t even necessarily choose me. Last time Dandelion Grove had a knight was over two hundred years ago.” She went back to pushing seeds off the sunflower.
“I don’t know much about riding, but if you want, I can show you what I know about swordplay? I’m just beginning myself, but I had a good teacher.”
She nodded to herself.
“You’re right. No point worrying about what can or can’t happen. I might take you up on that once we’re back home. I could use a bit of practice. Here, I think that’s enough seeds. You head down first.”
He descended to a mound of sunflower seeds, heaped in a great pile but how they were going to bring them all back, he had no clue.
Violet descended after him, hopping down from leaf to leaf rather than using her thorn boots. He’d considered that but wasn’t keen on taking any more risks with heights. Windcrown had somewhat beaten the deadly fear he’d once held out of him, but he still certainly was not a fan.
From her pack, Violet withdrew a couple dozen thorns and a rope, weaving them together. Once combined in a wicked looking whip, she stabbed the thorns into the seeds, one thorn per seed.
Seeing what she was doing, Dantes went and found a huge oval shaped leaf lying on the ground, still fresh.
He brought it over to Violet, and the two of them worked on making a sled for the seeds. While it wouldn’t be easy, the pathways they’d taken had required fairly little ducking and avoiding obstacles, and it should be navigable with just a little trouble.
Some time after, her father descended on his thorn boots, and seeing what they were doing, helped secure the seeds to the sled. They worked in silence after that, before eventually making their way back to the village.
He hoped Mitts would be awake by now so he could tell her about all the cool stuff he’d seen and the new friend he’d made. And maybe she’d be able to do something with sunflower seeds too. That would be nice.
***
The jungle was a strange place, and though he’d read much about it in books and reports, reality was a different beast altogether. He’d brought a week’s worth of dried rations with him, and already it felt like it would not be enough.
Hawk pulled a berry from a bush. He thumbed it between his fingers as he filtered through what he knew about the jungle. His cloak thrummed in his mind.
Edible. Probably.
He bit into it, finding it tart, but not sickeningly so. He picked several more and put them in his pouch. If he did not get sick from this one, he would save some rations down the line.
He flicked away another one of those awful pink and white mosquito like creatures buzzing about.
As he cut a path through the forest with his machete, he pondered his mission.
With Shadow dead, he had no way of turning it in.
He shook his head. That was a lie he’d told himself before to justify his past decisions. With that door now closed forever, he was forced to look at himself with both eyes, piercing the veil of the deceptions he told himself.
He could complete it if he wanted. Submit an anonymous report, drop it into an agent’s pocket or transmit it directly to his master’s tower via message. He’d just been selfish, deciding to put his own fate above his master’s needs.
But first he needed to get the name of that island. He didn’t know what he was looking for exactly, but he figured he’d search for a village and ask around there first to look for leads. Once he found the name, he could return to Esthar and…
He could never return.
He grappled with that understanding. Once he completed this mission, he would never receive another. The Sultan no longer knew of his existence, nor did any of his colleagues. Or even his hawk. He was a ghost, known only in passing by one, now deceased, woman.
Or was she a cat? He assumed that was just her cloak’s power, but he knew there’d have been more to it.
Not like it mattered. He’d spoken to the witnesses, confirming the reports that a woman in a black cloak had landed directly in the streets of Windcrown, having fallen over 10km from The Halo to the streets below, nearly splattering on the sidewalk from one particularly descriptive report.
He knew the difference between hope and logic, and one told him she was certainly dead. Whatever her cloak did, he couldn’t imagine a link between transforming into a cat and surviving a deadly fall like that.
Logic told him now that the only one he’d ever considered to be a friend was now dead. Even if it was only in passing. The loosest of threads that had connected them. To him, that loosest connection was the strongest he’d ever had, even without having discarded his name.
If only he’d been slightly faster on the bridge.
Those agents must have been very confused when she showed up. He hoped their punishment would not be too harsh, though he knew it would.
Hopefully they do not have family back home at least.
He mulled that over in his head. He was lucky, in a way, for his parents to have died so young. The Sultan had provided him food and shelter and purpose, in return for something even his destitute self could provide. The only thing he had that was of value.
Loyalty.
Loyalty, he knew, was all that kept him here now. All that would guide his hand to his final task’s end.
If I don’t have loyalty, I have nothing. An aimless ghost in this vast world.
A ghost needed a purpose to stay after all.
He felt a tingle in his mind. He sensed humans were close.
He pushed on.
At his task’s conclusion, he would rest.