Again she fell motionless, breath held tightly within clenched lungs, waiting; while soft green eyes traced the slim dark shadow of a horse moving through the trees ahead. I must be brave now... She thought, trembling and silent as she fought internally to adhere to the resonating breath of her mother’s sweet voice.


‘The elders have spoken youngling; you must seek your soul plant now and defend it.’

“But mother, the elders have taught us to hide, to never leave Prim'sylvia because there are creatures who feed upon our body. Why now have their minds changed?”

‘Our Lord Nepenthes has delivered to them a solemn warning, and heed his call you must. Strange folk live where it is whispered that your seed has sprouted; the summer squall has carried our spawn far now, and if you are to survive you must find where it grows. You are a blessing to the Lignea child. You have been chosen by Corocottas to learn and understand his brood on earth, to teach the animals how to respect and nurture our kind; the beloved flora. You are a harmonic peace keeper.’

“I understand mother, but how will I know where to go?”

‘Follow your heart dear one; have faith in the strength of your bond. The elders speak of a land known as Helovia- two of our tree folk have been sent there before you, Willow and Birch. Find them if you can.’

“I will mother!”

‘Pray often my little Fig; may Nepenthes be with you to guard you and guide you. It is time for to leave us now. Good bye my child, remember all that you have learned, good bye!’


The figure had seen Fig already, turned and was walking swiftly towards where she stood unmoving, and the young Lignea staggered backwards timorously as the stranger arrived before her in a whirl of wind, and peace-shattering vocals. The sapling fig whose roots sprawled across the length of her back to drape languidly by the flinch of gangly, though quite sturdy limbs began to quiver above her, reflecting the trepidation which swamped the young filly’s expression.

She could not understand the flood of concern; the tumble of pitying words which spilt into the cool atmosphere around them, and found herself filling with dreadful fear, pluming confusion, for the situation which she had so unexpectedly fallen into. No pain nor discomfort, save for the overwhelming manner of this creature, offered insight into the nature of the predicament and she could only watch in bewilderment, as her waving ears guzzled all that was hurled.

Confusion turned to horror at the mention of the mushrooms- a curse, but still more that they had been forced to shrivel and perish beneath the glare of their most feared element, the sun, and Fig gasped dismally. “Oh, no!” Her head was tossing gently like the young wind-touched twigs forming her still flimsy canopy. “That is a terrible fate.” Fig was astonished too that the language of this alien was comprehensible, though for the moment she wished awfully that it had not been so.

“Why would you scorch such helpless creatures? They breath and suffer just as any animal could.” Quietly she asked the strange beast, and the question was as genuine as the troubled lines of her blazed face. Her voice was as smooth and light as the gust engulfing them, though pained was the gentleness of her tone. ‘Nepenthes, please give me courage,’ she asked in silent prayer. ‘I fear my task here is greater than the elders foresaw.’ Although her assignment seemed now to be fraught and perilous, Fig knew in the depths of her core that her soul plant- wherever it hid, was so far unharmed.

fig