Ada hums to herself as she makes her way to Malachai Darkwood Farm. She walks a log across a stream with her arms out to the sides for balance. Her kit clatters as she teeters to one side nearly falling into the water. She regains her balance and giggles as she leaps into the soft grass on the other side.

Ada walks through a field of flowers that lay a boundary from her land to his. Bees zip around pollinating. Hummingbirds hover, and birds chirp. All that is missing is a true sun and blue skies. She has to imagine these in the belly of the ship. The lights give the illusion of sunlight for twelve hours a day. They will be shutting down in a few hours and the misters will water the farms in the night hours.

She marvels to herself at the science that goes into growing the perfect crops. The perfect temperatures in different areas of the farm down to the animals and insects needed to make certain crops grow. Some plants choke out others while some plants nourish others. All the plants seem to communicate with one another in some secret language through the pulses in their roots.

Ada’s fascination with horticulture stretches back to her first word, flower, and her second, flutterby. As she walks and hums the plants reach out like worshipers to touch her. She lets out a wisp of love light as she brushes past some ivy. The browned edges fade and she praises the green leaves with a singsong voice.

She covers her mouth with a hand as she reaches the edge of Darkwood Farm. The trees have a darker caramel color to their bark. The shadows cast in the forest seem darker than anywhere else in the second-floor gardens. Much like the spirit of their farmer. She fights off a shiver and steps into the forest. It is cooler in the shaded forest.

She has to pause a moment and allow her eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. In her forest, the white light pierces through the leaves like a thousand stars. In his forest, all the light seems to be swallowed up by hostile overgrowth.

It even feels as if the trees are angry with her, or they don’t trust her. She can’t quite make it out. She quests out with her spirit, but it is as if the trees have a wall up against her. She ducks her head down. She focuses on the trail at her feet. The forest seems more unfriendly than the last time she came.

“I promise it will be better now.” She promised the forest on her last visit. She had nursed their dying roots back to life as they were wasting away due to a lack of nourishment in the soil. She had taught Malachai how to fertilize more efficiently and even fed some of her own life into the soil. She had obviously not kept her promise.

After a long walk through the dark forest, she comes to the clearing of Darkwood. Malachai grows poppy plants, sugar plants, coffee beans, tobacco plants, and various weeds. All of which seem to be wilting to some degree. Ada gasps and covers her mouth.

What happened here? She takes in the scene. Roots reach out above the soil and stalks hang over sorrowfully. Leaves curl in on themselves. The whole scene is closer to brown than green.

Ada feels tears form in the corners of her eyes. She wants to cry for the poor plants. She chokes down anger toward the old man that had neglected them to such a degree. How had he let it get this bad? How had it happened so quickly? She hadn’t been gone that long.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Something else bothers her. It is too quiet on his farm. She can hear her own breathing. Where are the animals? Where are the insects buzzing around even? Already the overhead lights are fading down for the night but there still should be birdsongs.

As Ada takes a few steps forward, a chill runs down her spine as if she is being watched. She turns around quickly but there is no one there. The silence is unnerving. She clears her throat and calls out, “Malachai? Are you there?”

There is no response. She takes another step forward and hears a twig snap under her foot. She freezes, listening for any movement. The stillness is deafening. She looks around, her eyes scanning the area for signs of life.

Suddenly, she hears a movement in the distance. It’s the farmhouse. She can see a faint light shining from the windows. She heads towards it, her heart pounding in her chest.

As she gets closer, she sees Malachai standing outside the house, looking at her with a strange expression on his face. He is an old man with wrinkled skin and a long grey beard. His eyes are dark and piercing. Ada feels another shiver run down her spine as she approaches him.

“Hello Malachai,” she says, trying to sound friendly. “I came to help with your crops. They don’t look too good.”

Malachai stares at her for a long moment before turning to enter the house. “Come inside,” he says, his voice gruff.

Ada hesitates for a moment but then follows him into the house. It’s dark and musty inside. The only light comes from a single candle on the kitchen table. Ada can see that the house is in disarray. Dishes are piled up in the sink, and there are cobwebs in the corners. The air is thick with the smell of decay.

“Sit,” Malachai says, gesturing toward a chair. Ada sits down, feeling uncomfortable. Malachai takes a seat across from her and stares at her intently. He smiles with yellow teeth and pours her a cup of hot tea.

“I know something about you that I don’t think you even know.” He says pushing the hot tea over to her. She doesn’t reach for the cup; she just stares into his dark unsettling eyes. “You have a way of pouring life into your plants. That is why the plants love you so much.” He sits back in his chair. “The animals too. They see it.”

“I care for the plants, that is my job.”

“You were born for it.” He chuckles. “Made for it. I was made for something else. See I discovered something very different in myself. I set out to be like you, but we are very different.”

He pushes the candle across the table until it clinks off the little plate that holds her tea. “Can you make the flame bigger?” His eyes seem genuinely curious.

Ada looks at him incredulously, “No?”

He laughs, “I bet you can and just don’t know it.” His smile fades as he holds out a hand toward the flame. With an intake of breath, the candlelight winks out and his fingers glow faintly.

Ada is startled. There had been no breeze to blow out the candle. She looks up at him in the darkness and sees two forms move from behind him. It is so alarming she springs from her seat toward the door only to find another form of a man standing in the doorframe in the darkness.

Ada swallows as the new forms close in around her.

“You see Ada, I take what I need, and you just happen to make the very power I am in want of.”