This story was written for the XIV Writer’s Guild Discord server, based on the weekly prompt “In the Corner of Your Eye”. I’ve been working on it off and on for a week and a half, and am not yet done, but I’d like to share what I have of it here. The second part will be posted in a few weeks, as there are other prompts I’d like to work on before that.
Someday, I’d like to make another attempt at this story, in a longer format. – Cai
Trespassing
The most striking thing about Saint Mocianne’s Arboretum is the aroma one experiences at the entrance. Even for experienced botanists, the perfume of years’ worth of growth and decay can be overwhelming. Yet such is the unique character of the Arboretum, once home to the realm’s most extensive collection of flora— to say nothing of the various insects that played a role in floral development.
Alya didn’t mind the smell. If anything, the young botanist found it nostalgic.
She crept carefully past morbols in varying states of maturity, each one distinctly threatening. There was an old pathway, made of slate and stone, and in older days any visitor to the Arboretum would have walked leisurely upon it. But the Arboretum belonged to nature now, and Alya was trespassing. In so doing, she trespassed with greatest care, using overgrown vines for cover.
Eventually she came to a stairwell. Here, no morbols roamed, and the insects that had made nests would not threaten her. Nevertheless, Alya crept down the stairs as quickly and quietly as she could, just as she always had…
”We’re home free,” Mother said. “Down the stairs, now, and be quick!”
“But… but those things will sting me!” Little Alya pointed a trembling finger at a large wasp nest near the ceiling.
Mother looked up at the wasps. “They’re too frightened to come any closer,” she said. “They’re waiting to see if you’re going to attack them.”
Little Alya shook her head. “No, no! I don’t wanna hurt them…”
Mother knelt down, and kissed Alya on the head. “Well, I know that,” she said, with a soft smile. “But they don’t. That’s why we’ll move quickly— so they know we’re not here for them. Understand?”
Alya sniffed, and reached up to wipe the tear away. She was irritated, feeling so emotional as she did today. At least there was no shame in it, so long as she was traveling alone. If there was any positive aspect to entering the Arboretum by herself, it was that.
Halfway down a long corridor, she entered an unmarked door on the left, into what she had taken to calling “the orchid room”. This was a spacious room divided into many partitions. Walking from one side of the room to the other was like walking through a labyrinth, and all along the path there were orchids growing in dark, rich soil.
In the orchid room, Alya always found something new. She could only imagine what this room must have been like in the days before the Sharlayans abandoned it. In those days, each plant growing here had been carefully selected, and was cared for by the finest botanists on either side of the ocean. Few, if any, of those original plants had survived in the years since. Yet in their place, new flowers had sprouted, and continued to do so.
Alya walked slowly along the path through the orchid room, scanning the colors and patterns of the flowers for anything unfamiliar…
Little Alya crouched beside the door of the orchid room, watching as myriad insects passed her by without a care. Within the room, the insects seemed focused on their work, each one passing near several different flowers before finally stopping to land.
”Look at that one,” Mother said, pointing at a brilliant purple flower on which a bee was now crawling. “It has been selected! It found a partner.”
”I wanna get closer! I wanna see.” Little Alya looked up at her mother. “Will it sting me?”
Mother shook her head. “Not too close, now. Only a few steps.”
Little Alya watched, entranced, as the bee crept closer to the center of the orchid. The closer she came to any of these flowers, the more fascinating they became. Before, she had seen its purple petals, a color more pure than the most luxurious dyes in the markets. Yet now she noticed that on each petal there were hundreds of small yellow spots. Next to this flower was another— one that was receiving an insect visitor of its own.
”So many,” Little Alya whispered.
”So many what, sweetie?”
Little Alya grinned at her mother. “Bees! So many bees! Lots of partners!”
Mother giggled, as softly as she could manage. “Yes, it’s a good thing. Even without any botanists around, they are thriving. Nature is caring for its own.”
This was the same orchid room from Alya’s memories, and some of the flowers here were just as she remembered. Everything else, though, had changed. Many of the plants had withered, and others had been starved out by invasive weeds. In her memories, bees and insects had been everywhere, each one looking for opportunity. At some point in the years since, adventurers had come through, and they had been unkind to the bees of the Arboretum.
This was the same room. But it felt empty, cold… lifeless.
Alya paused to examine a patch of growth. Weeds, some; vines, plenty. There were a few smaller flowers, which subsisted on the natural moisture in the air. Alya ran her fingers through the soil. It seemed surprisingly healthy, but she would need to run a proper test to—
“Ouch!”
Alya drew her hand back, shocked to see that she was bleeding. Something had stung her, or bitten her, or… She looked, but saw no bees, no creatures. The only motion came from a twitchy vine.
Alya leaned in, curious. Had this vine been responsible? It seemed to have small, sharp spines— thousands of them, going all the way down to where the vine met the soil. And as Alya’s gaze moved up, she found that the vine connected to a thick-stemmed flower. Its petals were dark grey, with large white spots.
Alya looked around. No other flowers similar to this one were visible. And this was certainly the first she’d heard of a flower with sharp spiny vines in the orchid room.
Nicked me deep, at that…
Alya took a few minutes to bandage her hand, using supplies from her pack. There was more blood than she would have expected, but then, she hadn’t expected something like this at all. As she wrapped her hand, she wondered if perhaps this plant had any toxins it had planned to share, as well.
Curse me for a fool… Mother would never have made such mistakes.
After some time, Alya’s hand felt well enough that she pulled out her notebook and set about sketching the flower. Capturing the colors of any orchid in a sketch wasn’t feasible, but Alya could capture the form of it well enough. That would suffice for a conversation with the other botanists back at the Greengrub Mudplots. Perhaps one of them would know— Edgyth certainly would, if anyone would.
For now, though, she was alone in the Arboretum, with no other commitments. Plenty of time to spare for sketching— something that was often cathartic…
”All done! Look, look!”
Little Alya held up her drawing with pride. There, in perfect clarity, she had captured the form of the orchid. It was tall! It had petals, several of them! She had even drawn circles on the petals, right where the spots had been!
But Mother didn’t seem impressed. “It is… mmm. It needs more details, sweetie.”
More details? But she had captured every detail…!
”Well, this drawing is good, but your drawing is going to be especially useful when we return home,” Mother said. “Look at the flower again. You see where the light hits it? Those are a flower’s happiest places. Let me show you how to draw those…”
Alya blinked. Her sketch had become blurry… no, that was her vision. She wiped her eyes with her forearm, disappointed to see that one tear had fallen on the paper.
“Ah… I am very sorry,” she said. “It’s just, today would have been my mother’s…”
Alya looked up, and realized she was talking to a flower.
“…Right,” Alya muttered. “I must be losing my mind.”
The flower didn’t offer an opinion on the subject. Alya laughed, feeling foolish, but also grateful for any respite from the day’s perpetual melancholy.
“Well, the two of you would have gotten along famously,” Alya went on. “She loved grey. Come to think of it…”
Alya stood, and walked around the room, searching for more flowers. She found some, including several orchids that looked familiar, and a few that had white spots. But there were none that were grey in color. She couldn’t remember having ever seen a flower quite this color before, in fact. Its petals reminded her of a stormcloud, coming toward the shore from a distant horizon.
She searched around with her fingers, in the dirt at the base of the flower. Its roots were well-established, but she found no other buds waiting to bloom.
“Truly, you are all alone here, aren’t you?” Alya closed her sketchbook, and returned it to her pack. “No partners, no bees…”
She made a mental note to ask Edgyth about this later. But for now, there was more in the Arboretum that Alya wanted to see, and within a few moments the sound of her footsteps had faded from the orchid room.
A Visitor
Memories of her time with Mother were bittersweet, but Alya was glad of them nonetheless. Her visit to the Arboretum had helped, and with each day that followed afterward, the bitterness faded.
Alya returned to Idyllshire, where she was living and working during her year-long period of field study. Weeks passed, and then, months…
To live and work in Idyllshire was something Alya considered a great privilege.
She had always liked Idyllshire, as unusual as it was. Once, it had been an outpost for Sharlayan scholars and scientists, until they had abandoned the place. Goblins made their home in Idyllshire now, and the goblins that lived there had not always been open to collaboration with other races. Some of them remained hostile, but most were willing to share their insights, their workload, and their unusual manner of speaking.
So it was that the Greengrub Mudplots came to be— a place to grow fruits, and vegetables, and herbs, and flowers, and anything else that could thrive in the mountainous soil of the Dravanian Hinterlands. All who lived and worked there would partake of anything that grew there. At first, that hadn’t been much. But the situation had changed with the arrival of Edgyth— first botanist of Ishgard, trained by Eorzea’s finest. Under her care, the Mudplots had begun to thrive.
On this particular morning, Alya was focused on an orange tree. Like most of the plants of the Mudplots, this orange tree was an ongoing experiment. A few years ago, it would have been inconceivable that an orange tree could grow in this climate and on this terrain; yet, here it stood, climbing closer to the sun with each passing day.
“Alya? Excuse me, could I have a moment?”
Alya turned. It was Miss Edgyth, of course; some days, she was the only other person Alya ever saw.
“Yes, of course,” Alya spoke. “Just a moment…” Taking hold of her bucket and brush, she carefully stepped down from her stepladder.
Edgyth seemed curious about the bucket. “Hmm, what do you have there? Is that your new repellent?”
Alya set it down, grinning. “Yes, it is! I’ve been using it for the past three days. Look how much healthier these leaves are!” She gestured toward the branches of the orange tree. The local insect population had recently shown quite an interest in its leaves, and several of those were still nicked and torn. But they were beginning to heal.
Edgyth clapped her hands. “This is good news! Well done, Alya.”
Alya beamed. Miss Edgyth was often so wracked by anxiety that she would hear bad news in every bit of good news. Not this time, at least.
“We’ll be monitoring its efficacy over time, of course,” Edgyth went on. “If it works, I may ask you to develop a variation that we can use with flowers…”
“Oh, no!” Alya looked slightly pained. “Are the little creatures going after your herb garden?”
Edgyth shook her head. “Not just the herbs! Actually, let me show you— it’s on the way…”
“On the way?”
But Edgyth was already on the move. Alya ran to catch up— a vain, but noble effort. She considered herself in good shape, but even the fastest runner in all of the Dravanian Hinterlands would struggle to keep pace with Miss Edgyth when it was time to visit her beloved flower and herb garden. Indeed, by the time Alya caught up to her, Edgyth was already knelt beside the herbs, carefully inspecting a patch of tarragon.
Alya looked— but not at the herbs.
Nearby, Miss Edgyth’s carefully-cultivated flower patch was in early bloom. Red, orange, yellow, blue— there were groups of colors, evenly distributed in a complementary fashion. Nothing grew there unless it had been part of Miss Edgyth’s design… except for a single flower, with grey petals, white spots, and long vines trailing from its stem.
Alya stared. This flower was familiar… but it didn’t belong here.
“As you can see,” Edgyth was saying, “the tarragon is…” She looked up, noticing Alya’s distraction. “Is everything all right?”
Alya gestured toward the flower. “Has that grey one always been there?”
Edgyth looked. When she saw the grey flower, she appeared to be startled, yet intrigued.
“No,” Edgyth said. “No… in fact, I’ve never seen this variety. Did you— I mean, do you know something about it?”
“I saw one of them in Saint Mocianne’s Arboretum a few months ago,” Alya said. “Just the one, though.”
“You went there?” Edgyth’s gaze was focused on the new flower, but the discomfort in her voice was plain enough. “That is a dangerous place, Alya… Not just for you, but for the Mudplots, too.”
“I was very careful!” Alya knelt, trying to catch Miss Edgyth’s gaze. “All of my clothes and supplies were cleaned thoroughly, just as we always practice!”
“Hmm…” Edgyth was quiet for a moment, studying the flower. “Well, it must have arrived here, somehow. Perhaps Fufucha would know more.”
Alya blinked. “Fufucha? The Fufucha, from the Greatloam Growery?”
Edgyth looked up, grinning broadly. Perhaps it was the change in subject, or perhaps it was simply because of an opportunity to discuss Edgyth’s mentor.
“Yes, that was what I came to tell you, actually,” Edgyth said. “She’s waiting for you in the supply room.”
With that, Edgyth climbed to her feet, and dashed up the stone path leading to a small building nearby. By the time Alya realized the import of Edgyth’s words, all thoughts of strange foreign flowers had completely fled from her mind.
Fufucha
Some say that the Greengrub Mudplots is a miraculous place— a garden in the midst of the mountains, broadening its scope and health with each passing day. Those who visit bring back stories about the bright colors and fresh floral aromas, all against the backdrop of Sharlayan elegance.
The Mudplots supply room, on the other hand, was a small office into which several sheds’ worth of fertilizer and tools had been crammed. The aroma here was certainly distinct, but there was nothing fresh or elegant about it.
It was often a challenge for Edgyth and Alya to fit into the supply room, such was the scarcity of available space. On this occasion, they had managed it by squeezing in front of a tall shelf. Adjacent to the shelf was a small table, on which sat a small Lalafellin woman. Her hair was the color of bronze, with coarse braids on either side. She held her hat in her lap— a straw hat adorned with a flower. In this woman’s native city of Gridania, any who saw her wearing this hat would recognize her instantly as Fufucha, master of the Botanists’ Guild.
But today, she was a visitor.
“I see,” Fufucha said, after several moments of quiet consideration. “Grey petals, white spots… I’m not familiar with a flower that matches this description.”
Alya sighed. If even Master Fufucha didn’t know… “Do you think it could have… well, how did it get here from the Arboretum?”
“That’s a very good question,” Fufucha said, tapping her knuckles against her chin. “You took every precaution, I’m sure.”
Fufucha looked up at Alya, and nodded. “Your mother was one of the finest botanists I ever knew,” Fufucha went on. “If she had no concerns about bringing you to the Arboretum even in your younger days, then I will trust her judgment. Yours too, Edgyth.”
Edgyth lifted her arm to her chest, and bowed. “You honor me, Master Fufucha.”
Alya found herself fascinated by this surprising change in Miss Edgyth’s demeanor. I’ve never seen her this reverent toward anyone, Alya thought, smiling. Perhaps one day I could become a master botanist, too!
“That flower could be invasive, though,” Edgyth continued. “I’d like to remove it from the garden, and the sooner, the better.”
Alya shuffled uncomfortably. “Um…”
Edgyth looked over at Alya, surprised. “Yes, Alya?”
“Are you going to… harm it?”
“Harm it? Oh, no, no,” Edgyth laughed, with a gentle wave of her hand. “A flower that even Master Fufucha doesn’t recognize needs to be preserved, and studied! After I have isolated it into an appropriate pot, of course.”
Edgyth bowed. “If you’ll excuse me…”
Moments after Miss Edgyth had departed, Alya already found herself missing the woman. Fufucha hadn’t said a word. She remained sitting on the table, thoughtful and quiet. Yet Alya knew that she was in the presence of someone that even Miss Edgyth respected, whereas she was hardly better than a novice…
“You seem uncomfortable.” Fufucha looked up, catching her gaze. “Is there something on your mind?”
Embarrassed, Alya shook her head. “No, no, no— not at… well.” Alya sighed. “Perhaps I am a little uncomfortable. Miss Edgyth has said so much about you, Master Fufucha.”
Fufucha shook her head. “No need to concern yourself with titles. We are all servants of the forest.”
Alya relaxed a bit. “Fufucha, then. What brings you to the Mudplots? Will you be working with Miss Edgyth?”
Fufucha smiled. “Actually, I’m going to need your help.”
Alya blinked. “M-me?!”
“The Growery received a request for help— from Tailfeather,” Fufucha said. “Some of the trees in the Chocobo Forest have been ill, and their illness may be spreading.”
“Oh, that’s terrible… What’s causing it?”
“That, I intend to discover.” Fufucha climbed down from the table, and donned her hat. “With your help, of course. Can you be packed and ready in twenty minutes?”
Twenty minutes? That’s not much time… And I still need to finish with the orange tree!
Yet Alya recognized that this was but the first of many challenges ahead of her. She had resolved long ago to never turn down a challenge from Miss Edgyth, and she wasn’t about to lose her resolve. She bowed, just as she had seen Miss Edgyth do moments before.
“Of course!”
Nature
Despite her best intentions, it was late in the afternoon by the time Edgyth was able to return to the flower garden. A pair of adventurers had requested help preparing a meal, and had generously shared the results.
Nature will provide, Edgyth thought. Just as Master Fufucha always says.
It had been so good to see Fufucha again. The Lalafellin botanist had only been in Idyllshire for a few hours, so focused was she on providing some aid to the Chocobo Forest. But even in the short bits of conversation they’d had today, Edgyth had felt so happy. Having a mentor, a teacher— that was how it had always been for her, until she came to the Mudplots.
And now, I’m the mentor…
Edgyth set down her pot, and her tools, The garden waited before her, as fragrant and vibrant as ever. The grey flower from earlier was still there— a blemish on the rainbow that its fellows provided. Yet Fufucha had often said that even the palest flowers could be striking in the right setting. Worry not, little flower— I have a better setting in mind for you…
Edgyth began easing nearby flowers aside. She was grateful for her thick gloves. These provided protection for her hands and wrists, something that was especially important when working with unknown flowers. Some plants protected themselves with toxic oils, which could cause severe skin irritation, or worse.
As Edgyth focused on the grey flower, she saw spiny vines trailing from its stem. Rather direct, this one… She carefully moved the vines aside, and set to work with a wooden fork. This was one of her favorite tools for managing delicate root systems. Extracting any plant from the soil could be a tedious and time-consuming process, particularly with such a small tool, but this way she was able to avoid damaging the roots.
Don’t worry, little flower, Edgyth thought. I promise, none of your roots will–
There was a whoosh, and then a dull thoonk. Something had happened to Edgyth. She looked down at her arm. A long, obsidian needle was protruding from it. The first trickle of blood was running down to her inner elbow, and then the trickle became something more.
“Wha— what—“
Whoosh. Thoonk.
Edgyth scrambled backward, suddenly feeling as if she were falling. To her horror, another of the obsidian needles had pierced her vest. Her arm felt as if if were on fire.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Out of the corner of Edgyth’s eye, she saw something long and snake-like moving toward her. Panic overtook her, and she tried to run— but when she did, she felt pain in her ankle. Her right leg was stuck on something…
“Help— cough – help— ”
Against the pounding in her ears, no sound could penetrate, not even the sound of her own voice.
To be continued…
Cai Linn's Library 
Leave a comment