by Marc Secchia
Quietly, Azurelle said, “You remember what I told you about Tazaka before, don’t you? He was always ambitious to the point of madness. But he’s only a Green. Something awful must have happened on Fiuriel if he has the power to exile our people.”
“She said Tazaka has an empire now, Zi. Kalcha must be helping him. What did you do to upset him? Steal his power?””
Azurelle shifted uncomfortably. Gazing at her tiny toes, she said, “I was a bad, bad Fiuri, Shioni. I think I was just too greedy and mean for my own good. Tazaka thought I was going to take over from him, so he betrayed me.”
“But you’re so nice, Zi,” Shioni protested.
“You’re sweet.” Azurelle hugged her knees with a gloomy air. “I can think of only two reasons he might want me back. One, to torture and kill me. Two, to put me in a cage and make an example of me, before the torturing and killing bit.”
“Can he even do that to a Blue Fiuri? I thought you said–”
“That the Blues are the most powerful?” Zi nodded. “But if Tazaka has become so mighty … who knows what he can do? He was always power-mad, Shioni. Nothing was ever enough for him. Nothing.”
Shioni shivered. She would hate to meet Tazaka. He sounded as nasty and murderous as Kalcha herself.
Kalcha’s efforts had produced a shining, mirror-like surface between the two upright tusks. Although it looked like a mirror, the strange, slightly rippling surface did not reflect anything. The friends heard a sweet chime ringing from somewhere unseen.
“It’s time to enter the portal,” Kalcha announced.
She pulled Zi out of the bottle by her wings, ignoring the Fiuri’s cries of pain. Without warning, she flung Azurelle through the air!
“Zi!” squeaked Shioni. Her friend struck the silvery surface and vanished as if she were a tilapia fish plopping into a river.
However, the witch’s throwing motion had tipped up the open bottle. In a trice, Shioni wriggled her way up to the top. She leaped from the rim and tried to fly to freedom–only, she had never flown before. Her wings buzzed mightily. Her flight jerked roughly this way and that, changing direction like a dragonfly skating over a pond. Kalcha tried to swat her, but missed. Shioni struck the floor of the tent and rolled. Suddenly, she found a rhythm. She rose into the air, flying!
And then a huge cloth thumped her sideways. Shioni fell hard. A terrible pain stabbed into her right arm. Heavy hands trapped her beneath the cloth. She struggled and kicked, but every movement made the pain flare anew. It was unbearable. The fingers seized her legs and pulled her out to face a panting, purple-faced witch. Kalcha gripped her in both hands.
“No escape for you, Princess!” she gloated.
Shioni groaned, “Can’t … breathe.”
“Have fun in Fiuriel,” said Kalcha, striding across the tent.
Like Azurelle, the witch flung her overarm through the air. Shioni fluttered her wings as best she could. Something horribly cold and sticky smacked her in the cheek and side. She expected everything to go dark.
Instead, there was only light. Glorious light.
Chapter 4: Amnosia
“WELl, SHe’s stuck tight,” said a voice.
“How do you get stuck in a Glue-Slap plant?” asked another, deeper voice. “Even I’m not that dumb.”
“Iridelle, don’t say that. You aren’t dumb.”
“Viri–we need to help her, don’t we? Look, she’s got no colour. Who ever heard of a White Fiuri on Fiuriel?”
There was a short silence. Shioni tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids seemed to be gummed together. Her skin itched so badly she wanted to scratch it right off. Could she move her arms or legs? No, hardly a quiver. She was stuck worse than a fly in a spider’s web. Shioni moaned with pain as something grated in her right arm, between the wrist and elbow, while a thumping monster of a headache pounded her brain into jelly.
“Broken arm,” said a third Fiuri voice, the deepest of the three, yet shy and thoughtful. “This is a Fiuri, without a doubt. We’re obliged to help her. Isn’t this why we patrol the dangerous borderlands of the deep caverns?”
“She’s a darling little petal,” said the first voice, “wouldn’t you say, Chardal?”
“Um-uh,” spluttered the shy one.
“Viridelle, don’t tease Chardal. He doesn’t like it.”
The one called Viridelle said, crisply, “Iridelle, I saw a patch of juili fruit growing just a short flutter back down the cave, moonward, three degrees above horizontal. Bring as many as you can carry of the ripe ones.”
“Ooh, you’re clever,” said Iridelle, who spoke slowly and had a sweet timbre to her voice.
“Remembering a fact is not clever, it’s just rote memory,” said the one she now recognised as Chardal. “What’s your name, Fiuri? Can you speak?
Shioni unstuck her lips. “I … where am I? Why can’t I see anything?”
“What’s your name? Declare your tribe and allegiance!” came the sharp retort, from Viridelle, Shioni realised.
“Viri, please,” said Chardal. “Let her recover before bombarding her with questions like a bombardier beetle. A little nectar, Fiuri? Where are you hurt?”
A pipe pressed against her lips. Shioni sucked up a mouthful of nectar with an appreciative sigh. “Delicious. Thanks. My right arm, uh … Chardal?”
“Hold still.” A touch tickled the underside of her arm. He said, “Clean break. We’ll have to set it. Then you can use your magic to knit the bones. Iri–good. Slice the fruit open and start squeezing the juice onto this cloth. Viri, will you wipe her face? I’m going to start unsticking her wings.”
“Ew, her eyes are gummed shut.”
“Iri, that’s the whole point of a Glue-Slap plant.” Shioni sneezed as a pungent smell tickled her nostrils. Soft cloth wiped across her face. In a moment, her eyelids were able to move and Shioni focussed hazily on a face. She saw pretty antennae, a sharp chin and a pair of wide green eyes which crinkled into a friendly smile. “I’m Viridelle,” said the Fiuri. “Viri for short. Sorry if I sounded cross. Welcome to the land of the unstuck.”
A broad, placid face peered over Viridelle’s shoulder. That must be Iridelle, Shioni thought. She said, “Even her eyes don’t have any colour. Sister, was her magic stolen?”
“Anything’s possible with wild magic,” said the third Fiuri. Shioni could not move her head as yet, but she rolled her eyes toward the sound of Chardal’s voice. “I’m sure she’ll have a fascinating story to tell us. I’m going to write everything down.”
Shioni’s glance made the brown-skinned Fiuri duck his head bashfully. Colour stole into his cheeks, in fact, right up into his antennae. He had green swirls on his limbs and a perfect shock of lime-green hair that bristled in all directions. His butterfly-wings rose behind his shoulders to an arm’s-length above his head, and their trailing wingtips reached almost to the ground behind him. Striking wings, she thought. Green and gold, shimmering like remarkable jewels wherever the light caught them.
Her eyes smarted at the day’s radiance. The face peering over Viri’s shoulder was ever so gentle, the kind of face that inspired trust. Iridelle was nearly twice as wide as Viri and a head taller.
When she saw Shioni gazing curiously at her, her mouth broke into a smile so broad it threatened to split her head in two. Shioni could see her long green proboscis rolled up inside her mouth. “I’m Iridelle,” she said, in her slow way. “Viri’s my sister. We’re twins.”
Shioni blinked.
“By the first pupa, it’s a laugh,” said Iridelle. “Little flower, you can call me Iri. I was the biggest caterpillar in my cocoon. My pupa-mother wondered where I came from. You see, twins always share, but we shared strangely. Viri got all the brains, while I got all the muscle.”
“Actually, Chardal’s the brain-flower,” said Viri. “I’m a Hunter.”
“She can track a scent five caves away,” said Iri.
Viri chuckled, “And Char can name five thousand different nectars by
taste alone. He’s a genius. Hey, genius, how’s about unsticking her legs?” There was a brief, embarrassed pause. “Oh. But she’s a child, Chardal.”
“I’m not a child,” Shioni said, firmly. She was not sure of much, but she was sure of that. She racked her brain for memories. Oh no … the only thing she could remember was a tent, some Fiuri in a cage and a terrible chill. The rest was just a yawning gap. “I don’t know where I’m from. But I know my name’s … er … oh, no.”
Tears tracked down her cheeks. There was a short, pained silence.
Iridelle rubbed her antennae against Shioni’s face. A Fiuri hug? Brushing Shioni’s tears away with her thumbs, she said, “Little flower, don’t worry. We’re friends. It’ll come back, you’ll see.”
As if this were a secret signal, the Fiuri suddenly fell to freeing her from the Glue-Slap plant, making a flurry of cheerful and downright nonsensical comments. To her relief, a name eventually popped into her mind.
“I’m Shioni,” she burst out.
The Fiuri glanced at each other. Chardal said, “That’s not a Fiuri name.”
“It is! It’s my name!”
“Shionelle is a Fiuri name,” said Chardal, as if there were no argument to be had. “You must be called Shionelle.”
Shioni sniffed hugely. She could not even use her arms to wipe her nose. But now, the cloth tickled along the back of her right arm and suddenly she sagged away from the strange, huge-leafed plant, yanking her broken arm out of position. Shioni screamed. The pain was so intense, it blinded her. Iridelle held her gently as Viridelle and Chardal freed her wings and legs.
Dimly, she heard Viri say, “This is crazy, Char. She has four wings. Four! Where on Fiuriel is she from?”
“Ew!” Iri complained. “Now I’ve got glue on my wings, too.”
“You silly larva,” said Viri.
“Oh, I’ve heard of Fiuriel,” said Shioni. “I think I might come from somewhere else.”
“Of course you’ve heard of Fiuriel, you’re not a larva,” said Viridelle, giving her a droll look. “Iri, do you have spare shorts?”
“Just a wing-flip,” said Iridelle, laying Shioni down on a patch of ferociously emerald-coloured moss. “Little petal, you need to take the pain away while we adjust your arm and set it.”
“Heal myself? I don’t recall–how do you do that?”
“I’m strong enough,” said Chardal.
The boy-Fiuri lowered his head, concentrating deeply. His antennae twitched and glistened as if tiny stars teemed beneath his skin. He ran his hands deliberately along Shioni’s arm. Suddenly, her limb felt warm and heavy, while a tingling sensation began deep beneath her skin, as though hidden caterpillars had begun to crawl over each other.
Standing near Shioni’s feet to oversee the process, Viridelle teased her twin about packing everything including her personal hammock flower.
“Have to be responsible for my little sister,” Iridelle teased back. “You’d forget to pack your wings if I didn’t remind you.”
Her eyes ached. Shioni could not see anything properly, only the leaves above her and a few plants nearby. Nothing looked familiar.
“Oh, purple flowers!” laughed Viri. “Those shorts are big enough for ten of her, Iri.”
“Give me your belt, then.”
Now Shioni understood what the awkward pause had been about. The Fiuri all wore shorts. Iridelle’s shorts were large and sported a number of pouches and pockets for tools or weapons. Chardal wore mid-calf trousers. Quills and pots bulged out of his pockets. And Viridelle wore a shorter, more stylish pair of shorts that came to mid-thigh and had a belt with a dagger, a sling and several other pouches for unknown purposes.
Iridelle’s spare shorts covered her like a sack. Only a belt would keep them from falling right off.
“How can she have four wings and no colour?” Chardal puzzled.
“Interrupted pupation?”
Char glared at Viridelle. “What larva-level nonsense are you spouting? You’re supposed to be a certified Green Hunter.”
“I am certified. You explain it, Char. What’re you suggesting–a double pupation?”
Chardal rolled his eyes extravagantly. “Ignoramus.”
“I heard that!”
“What’s a pupation?” asked Shioni.
“Oh, my wings!” cried Iridelle. Everyone jumped. “I know what she’s got!”
Viridelle flicked her wings toward her sister. “What, Iri?“
“Am-am–” she screwed up her face, “–amnosia!”
Briefly, silence fell on the little gathering. Then Viridelle’s laughter burst forth like a wild waterfall. “Amnosia? Amnosia?” she hooted.
“Closely related to Am-sneezia,” offered Chardal. “You catch it like a cold.”
As Iri muttered, ‘What? What did I say?’ the other Fiuri laughed and laughed. Even Shioni had to chuckle, although she felt miserable about being a Fiuri without a past. Hopefully, as Iri had said, her memory would return soon.
Viri threw her arms around her sister. “I love you so much, Iri! You’re precious. It’s amnesia.”
“Big difference,” growled Iridelle.
As Chardal worked on her arm, he quietly explained to Shioni that Fiuri started life as larvae–crystal caterpillars–for seven or eight orbits before they entered their chrysalis stage, which could last as much as an orbit. Orbits must mean years, Shioni thought. Now, where had that word come from? Once a Fiuri emerged from the chrysalis, or pupated, they were regarded as a child, complete with antennae, wings and magical powers. There was a big celebration when the child developed the characteristic Fiuri patterning on their wings and legs, called the Naming Ceremony. Chardal called it, ‘coming into your Colour’. How strange. So, how could she be a no-colour Fiuri? Chardal clearly thought her a great mystery.
Shioni would have preferred to be as green as her newfound friends.
Shortly, Chardal announced, “Good as healed.”
Shioni looked at her right arm in surprise. From elbow to wrist, it was covered in a hard, completely clear crystalline substance. She could see right through to the heavily bruised skin beneath. Where had that sprung from? Magic?
Iridelle helped her to her feet. Viri handed her a gourd, which gurgled cheerfully with a load of nectar. “Drink up. You’ve had a nasty shock.”
Shioni sipped from the gourd’s long stem. Her eyes popped open. “Wow! What was that?”
“Viridelle! You didn’t!” shouted Iridelle, pounding Shioni on the back as she coughed and wheezed. Her mouth felt as though it had been set alight. “It’s chiribui, Shionelle–a big favourite with Green Hunters. And it’s not for children.”
“I’m not a child.”
Viri made a flowing half-bow, complete with a dizzying flourish of her hand. “Sorry. But until we know how much you know about Fiuriel, Shionelle, please think of yourself as a child in everything.”
Shioni pouted. “Fine. I’ll try not to be completely useless.”
Now, at last, her headache had abated enough for her to look about properly. They emerged from beneath the broad, thick-leafed Glue-Slap plant which had captured her–or broken her fall from somewhere up … there. Shioni’s mouth hung open, her tongue half-unrolling from her mouth in amazement.
A dense jungle of plants and trees towered above them and to either side, growing right up the walls of what she had at first taken for a ravine. As her neck twizzled about on her shoulders, Shioni realised that the plant-walls curved up and up until they met overhead. There were trees growing upside-down above her head! She stood inside a glowing tunnel of greenery which stretched into the distance until it curved away out of sight. Shioni swayed on her feet. Breathtaking! Iridelle grabbed her arm to steady her. Light radiated from everywhere–from the plants, from the flowers, from the mosses and even in a few places where she could see rock protruding through the trees and bushes. No, not rocks. These were rods and curtains of glimmering crystal formations protruding out into the tunne
l. She had never imagined so many colours. And the flowers! Her lungs filled with a thousand scents, while her antennae tingled with the gorgeous pollens thick in the air. Shioni didn’t know if she wanted to dance, cry, or run in circles shrieking with delight.
The three Fiuri grinned at her as if they understood the sheer wonder that gripped her heart so hard it hurt.
“First time out of the cocoon, eh?” said Viridelle.
“Whoooo-whee,” said Shioni, which was all she could manage in response. She earned herself a round of laughs, though.
“We should take Shionelle to home base,” said Viri, with a take-charge toss of her long green hair. “I’m sure the elders will want to know about our little prize. Maybe they’ll shed some glow on where she came from.”
Iridelle pulled Shioni closer to her. “She’s not some Hunter’s prize, Viri.”
At a head and a half shorter than Iridelle, being grabbed by her did not allow Shioni any wriggle room. But she did feel protected. She smiled smugly at Viridelle until the Hunter commanded them to put ‘shields up’. Her blank stare was met with a snort of annoyance.
“Don’t you know how to shield?”
“I’m not sure I have any magic, Viri.”
Viri’s expression softened. “Shionelle, I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that. We’ll help you remember. Come on, it’s time to fly.”
Chapter 5: Fiuriel
SHioni’s first flight ended in a crash-landing on her nose.
“Great tunnels of Fiuriel,” said Viridelle, pulling on her antennae in frustration. “All that amnosia landed you on your nose after all. How can a Fiuri forget how to fly? You might as well forget how to breathe!”
Shioni hung her head. “Sorry.”
“Poor little flower, you really don’t know which tunnel you’re in, do you?” murmured Iridelle, wiping moss and dirt off Shioni’s cheeks. Her twin made a face at her mothering tone. “Viri, lend a hand, you heartless Hunter. I remember a few of your misadventures during Hunter-training. You weren’t the best flyer yourself, may I remind you?”