The Fruits of Ho'o

The Fruits of Ho'o

In the windy jungles of Ha'ash, a cryptic species called the Shrub Sprites dwell. They spend their time worshipping blue light and creating strange rock formations in worship of their deity Ho'o. Explore with Polkadot and Thug as they unravel the story of the Shrub Sprites, and the reason behind the tribe's fear of a certain island.

Setting

This short story introduces the H'le H'le tribe - a tribe of Shrub Sprites living in the windy archipelago islands. This archipelago consists of 3 islands: Ha'ash, Hu, and Sh'se. The language of the Shrub Sprites consists of light and airy sounds so that when two shrub sprites have a conversation it sounds like wind rustling the leaves of the jungle. Thus the jungle sounds as if it is ever windy.

Excerpt

A dried leaf lifted off the ground at Thug’s feet commanded by the sudden breeze that gained. He watched it twirl in the air, tracing invisible spirals and crests. Two, three, a dozen more joined the dance. The army of leaves continued to spiral to its destination, collecting masses more. Then Thug saw it - a few feet away from him. The portal.

It was a shy thing compared to the other portals he’d visited before. Hidden at the heart of the whirlpool of leaves, all he could make of it was the ultramarine light that caught in the veins of leaves closest to it, lighting them up as if their life pulsed with the blue energy. The breeze never died out. Instead it seemed to pick up the pace as they approached it.

Thug shivered despite the warm air raising his fur. He struggled to flap his wings with the heavy wind around them. He clutched the navy blue fabric of his boss’s coat.

Polkadot, as always, was unfazed by the wind. Her hair flew in all directions in a tangled mess. Her clothes wacked against itself, adding to the din of twigs and branches rustling heavily.

“Are you ready?” she asked him.

In the years that he had been her faithful assistant for life, Thug had never answered this question. He gathered that she only asked him for the sake of the story. It was always about the story.

So, wordlessly, Thug grabbed his quill, ink and roll of parchment from his satchel. He stared ahead at the portal, the leaves still spiraling and circling, pulsing with blue energy. Thug was beginning to get familiar with the portals on the island. Each one held some clue of what he could expect from the world within it. While most portals were large and majestic and almost always intimidated him, this one was a naive, dainty thing. He hoped they would be quick so he could return to his alcove at the Mansion where it was safe.

The wind picked up as they stepped into the portal, leaves swallowing them whole.

When the light cleared Thug saw that the other side was a jungle. More wind greeted them, but not dominant roars. Giant green leaves twice the size of Polkadot surrounded them. And they all swayed in the same dance, making music as they did. Haaaaaaaashhhhhhhhh… shhhhhhh, they sang.

“The Jungles of Ha’ash,” said Polkadot. She stepped forward observing some ferns. A myriad of insects buzzed and flitted away. Something like twigs crushed under her footstep. The treetops far overhead with their numerous leaves still swayed, caught in this strange wind.

“Looks all in order to me,” said Thug, eager to return home.

“Does it, Thug? Curious, this wind. Far from order. Come. Let’s take a walk around. Be careful here, we’ll have to make our own path through. And watch this rock - could be a creature in camouflage.”

“Mam.” Thug decided that flying was the best option so he could interact with this environment as little as possible. “Is there something I should keep an eye out for? Just so I don’t accidently walk by it in ignorance and we’d have to come around all over again.”

“That’s a good question. I don’t really know what we’re looking for. We’ll know it when we see it. And it’s got something to do with this wind, I’ll tell you that much.”

“But what if it’s just a jungle? Unremarkable, lots of giant leaves -”

“- and this wind, Thug. What does it sound like to you?”

Thug took a moment to listen.

HOOOOOOOOooooooo, sang the wind.

“But it’s just the trees,” he said nervously. “And ferns. And shrubs…” He eyed a suspicious looking shrub, its small leaves and sharp branches bunched up in a stout tangle. Even here, far below the several layers of canopy, the wind reached it, causing it to stir in that same way. Haaaaaasshhhhhhhhh… shhhhh

Now Thug was extremely familiar with strange islands that hid secrets. He lived on one, and had been for decades now. The Island of Doors was no comforting feat of nature, but a forest of dread, trickery, and nastiness. Thousands of trees housing thousands of portals within a few steps of each other, each tree with a different temperament, none of them sweet. Thug supposed that if he could deal with that on a daily basis then perhaps he could deal with this jungle. Some wind couldn’t be the worst thing, could it?

Get The Polkadot Files Volume I here!