Chapter 2

The village of Yaleen was relatively small but was well known in Elyndor as a popular holiday location for nature enthusiasts. The forests, a nearby mountain, and the relatively little development in the area all combined to create a haven for people, often elves, who wanted the peace or inspiration of nature. One of the stand-out features related to all of those points was the incredible flora throughout the region. From a scientific perspective, there wasn’t any particular, obvious factor to explain why this was the case, but the outstanding diversity and abundance of beautiful and flamboyant vegetal displays was well known, well documented, and well enjoyed by all. This was, in fact, the reason that Lyra’s parents had decided to move to Yaleen- not for the enjoyment (though the quality of life perks of living in such a place certainly hadn’t escaped them) but for research. Together, Olan and Meela studied plants, fungus, and the many-faceted relationship between them, and the diversity of plant life in the area meant Yaleen was truly a mycologylistic paradise. As Lyra opened her front door, she was greeted by the familiar burst of humidity and petrichor that always greeted her. This was not typical for an elf home, but the Faela home was not very typical. The entry to the home was what someone might be tempted to call a greenhouse, and in a sense, they would certainly not be wrong. The walls were glass, and there was plenty of green, but the color was supplied primarily by a thick, comprehensive layer of algae occasionally punctuated by a little island of moss cropping up here and there, which covered every inch of glass from the floor to the ceiling. This, of course, was by design. Olan and Meela enjoyed plants as much as the next elf, but as mycologists, their hearts belonged to fungi. It was a bold move, as the custom in an elven entryway was typically a dazzling proliferation of flowers and fruit vines, often themed or representative of generations of horticulture and their families most treasured strains. But the Faela had decided that they wanted to be true to what they loved, and so, while some heirloom varieties of certain low-light plants were found in places of honor in the entryway, this room was made to be a fungal wonderland. Passing through, a visitor might find themselves drawn in by the familiar charm of one specimen only to be taken aback by the unexpected strangeness of form of the next, unaware all the while that they were missing many of what Olan Faela might deem, “some of the most fascinating specimens as a matter of fact.” This was one of the things the Faela, as well as most of their guests, appreciated about the entry, because it always made for good conversation. A friend may come over once and comment on the rather large fly agaric sitting on the low table just inside the door, and only upon the next visit notice the oyster mushrooms growing out of the table itself. It was also a peculiar and common experience among guests to the home to have the feeling that there was some strange sort of magic being used. This is not to say that guests found the magic peculiar. There were certain features that were blatantly magical, such as the little floating lights which hung suspended in the air near the plants which required more sunlight than was allowed through the algal walls, or the collection of mists which, when watched long enough, could be seen to bring down gentle, localized rain upon the puffballs and earth stars scattered along the sides of the walkway. But these measures, while tastefully employed, were quite common among gardeners who took particular care in tending to their flora. The aspects of the entry that would produce in visitors the peculiar sense of unusual magic were, in fact, generally design-based and compositional in nature. For example, in a corner to the left near the door to the main house one could find large and numerous flushes of lions mane, pure white, sprouting and drooping from outcroppings of wood along the walls and ceiling and then patches of white jelly fungus with it’s clear, glasslike translucence, atop the surfaces and peaking out from behind stones and stumps, then these would also be mingled with bright almost luminescent bunches of beautiful white comb tooth all about the area. The combination of all these elements, and the well-placed lights floating amid or behind certain clumps of the fungi, would produce the inexplicable sensation that you were looking into a sort of icy winter wonderland that had swept in and overtaken a mossy corner of a forest overnight. Or again, on the right, a person could see the combination of colorful jelly, cup, and coral fungus, and feel they were looking into some sort of aquarium without walls. These kinds of experiences were some of the Faela’s favorites, especially when it was such that they could say, “yes, that was the idea!” But today, Lyra didn’t take her time here, neither to appreciate, nor to add to any of the specimens. She went straight through to find Meela.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

“Hey mom!” Lyra called out as she closed the front door.

The large windows in the main house let in much more light than what came into the greenhouse, and it was here in the main living space where the rest of the family’s legacy plants could be found.

“I’ll be up in a minute!” came Meela’s muffled voice through the floorboards.

Lyra crossed into the kitchen to unpack her sack and found her father, Olan, at the stove stirring a large pot.

“Hey, sweetie! Mom’s just getting some buttons. How was your picnic?” Olan asked over his shoulder, adding some rosemary to the pot.

“Uh, good,” Lyra said, gently starting to unwrap the mysterious flower, “I found something really… crazy.”

“Fungus?” Asked Olan.

“No, it’s a… flower… I guess,” Lyra mumbled, unfolding the last layer of cloth, “That’s why I was gonna ask mom about it.”

“Well,” Olan chuckled, “if you’re wondering whether or not it’s a flower, I think I could probably give it a shot.”

“No,” Lyra said, “it’s an orchid. It’s just, it was a whole really weird thing that happened. Can I show this to you?”

“Sure!” Olan responded, “I just need to finish getting this ready for your mom real quick. Give me a minute.”

Lyra stood for a moment, waiting, staring at the orchid, and the image came back into her mind of the way it had glowed so brightly from beneath the blanket. She noticed she was standing and sat down at the table. Olan added a few more ingredients to the pot, all the while Lyra sat silently.

“Ok! That should be good for a minute,” Olan said, setting his wooden spoon on the counter and turning to join his daughter at the table.

“Yup,” Olan said, sitting, “that’s a flower.”

Lyra was thinking too much to laugh.

“It’s a really strange shape,” Olan continued, “it’s beautiful.”

“It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Lyra finally spoke.

“What’s this little bulb shape about?” Asked Olan.

Lyra shook her head, “I don’t know.”

A door closed downstairs, and Meela came walking up the stairs with a basket full of button mushrooms.

“Ok!” She started enthusiastically, halfway up the stairs into the kitchen, “who wants button stew?!”

“I could definitely use some,” Lyra mumbled, resting her chin in her hand.

“What’s wrong, sweetie,” asked Meela, crossing to set the mushrooms down near the stove.

“Oh, I’m ok, nothings wrong. I’ve just… had a crazy day”

Meela gave a concerned look to Olan as she crossed to the table.

“She thinks it’s a flower,” Olan said, nodding toward where the orchid lay.

Lyra laughed this time.

“It’s an orchid,” she explained, “but there’s something else going on.”

“With the flower?” Asked Meela, reorienting the cloth to see the orchid from a better angle.

“Yeah,” Lyra answered, “I mean, obviously I don’t recognize the species at all…”

“Mhmm,” Meela said, pointing to the bulb shape and leaning in very closely to continue inspecting.

Lyra watched her parents for a moment before continuing.

“Are there orchid species that glow?” She asked.

Meela chewed her lip for a moment and sat back in her chair.

“I mean,” she started, “not that I know of I don’t think. Certainly not around here. I’m sure of that. It was glowing?”

“Through my picnic blanket in the middle of the day.” Lyra said confidently.

Lyra’s parents looked at her and the orchid with confusion.

“It wasn’t a trick of the light, or a reflection,” she continued, “or anything like that. I uncovered it and it was so bright it was almost uncomfortable to look at. And then for like three minutes I watched the glow fade away right in front of my eyes.”

“Really?” Olan looked closer, “as soon as you picked it?”

“No,” Lyra answered, “I hadn’t even picked it! It was just sitting there, glowing like CRAZY, and then for whatever reason it just started getting dimmer.”

Lyra’s parents had plenty of thoughts and theories that neither Lyra nor they themselves were satisfied with, and thus four comprehensive reference book searches, two careful cuttings (one for immediate examination under Olan’s microscope, one to be carefully preserved for future research), an almost ruined button mushroom stew, and most of an evening later, the decision was made.

“You need to take it with you,” Meela was tearing off little bird pecks from her leftover bread.

Lyra let out a deep, exhausted sigh, and nodded in agreement.