Chapter 1 - A Good Little Berry Tree

Dull reds opened to the light of day. “Good morning, Holly,” she said to herself. “Good morning as always…” a tinge of apathy stoked her voice as she sat up. She never allowed her back to straighten, unable to find the motivation to avoid slumping.

Another picturesque morning in the only world she had ever known. Slowly the girl’s arm rose, running a hand through the thin grass that adorned her head. Her fingertips brushed against the berries and sharp leaves that sprouted in her hair. A pair for her, on either side of her skull, easily mistaken for hair ornaments in another species. For her they were a biological indicator of her sleep – counting four red berries told her she had gotten a full eight hours of sleep.

Her arm fell to her side as she processed the horrors of the waking world. Her room was neat, tidy, and organized. Bookshelves bore tomes of knowledge long squeezed dry. The wardrobe meant for one hung at the ready in a small closet. A bag filled to the brim with supplies hung off a hook embedded into the door. The berry-blessed child studied the bag as if it would speak to her.

KNOCK KNOCK

Instead, the presence on the other side spoke. “Good morning my little berry tree!” a cheery voice greeted from the other side.

“Good morning, Mom!” The prior apathy was absent in Holly’s cheerful call. Despite the inflection of her voice, her face remained dull.

How much longer would she put up with this?

Even she didn’t know.

Inaction was the enemy, so despite wanting to curl back up and sleep another eight hours, she motivated herself. She had to know more. This was how she cheated her apathy. Learning something, anything improved her mood. It was a facet of herself she had come to terms with years ago. To that end, she rose, got dressed, and moved to the door. Before she left the confines of her bedroom she patted herself down, confirming one item was on her person – a small bundle hidden in an inner pocket of her pink and white jacket. With that confirmation, she felt confident in leaving her room.

Her house was fairly plain, decorated with the typical furniture one would find in any home – couches, shelves with personal effects, a dining room table with chairs; though only Holly used the latter.

She sat alone with a tall glass of water and a modest bowl of beet chips. It was a quiet, small breakfast, which would be broken up by her mother preparing to leave.

“Oh Holly,” her mother called.
“Yeah, Mom?” Holly instantly flashed a bright smile at her parent.

The elder of the house glanced at Holly’s breakfast. “Are you going to get some sun today?” she asked, more of concern rather than authority.
“Of course, Mom!” lied Holly with an innocent grin on her face.

The fib was easily accepted, earning her a head pat. “Good girl, I’ll see you tonight.”
“Bye Mom!” waved Holly as she was left alone.

As soon as the front door shut, her expression fell. “Tch, as if.”

---

After polishing off breakfast, Holly moved to the door. Best to hit the streets before it got too crowded. She held her white skirt down as she seated herself to put her shoes on. Slipping into her tall pink boots, she adjusted the bows that rested at the white tops. Satisfied that she was dressed to impress and with a spring in her step, she began her day in earnest.

Inverna was a massive city. Though Holly had no scale for how massive it truly was. After all, she had never left the cradle of her birth. For all she knew, it was the smallest city on Riterra. She wasn’t alone in her ignorance; it was the same for the rest of the population. The sun filtered from above and was reflected from the many iridescent crystals adorning the walls that surrounded the city. It was the perfect little greenhouse formed for the perfect little society.

It was only at noon that the population got to bask in the unfiltered majesty of the life-giving sun. It was the only time the peace cracked. Many of the citizens jostled and fought to bathe in the rays of the delicious sky flames.

“Cheapskates,” mumbled Holly as she considered the midday ritual that defined the town’s very heartbeat. A ritual she wanted to avoid before it started.

Perhaps her sophisticated palate informed her distaste for standing around and getting her nutrients from the sun. Or maybe she just didn't like getting crushed in the crowds. All she knew was that the traditional food she preferred was pricey, but all good things in life were. Subsisting solely on sunlight and water wasn’t a way to live, at least in her mind.

Either way, she didn’t want to be on the streets during the noon-time rush. She had another destination in mind, it was quite the trek, however.

Her daily expedition always gave her plenty of time for her eyes and mind to wander. The central plaza saw many others walking by, crossing town to get to their own destinations, like herself. The centerpiece of the entire city was a large shining silver statue of a tree bearing red gems shaped like a round fruit with a dimple at the top where a metal stem poked out to attach it to the statue.

She allowed herself a moment to take in the majesty of the art installation. It always caught her eye whenever she really studied it. For ones who carried nature atop their heads, it always seemed strange for them to have this statue as the town’s centerpiece. Why not a real tree? No amount of scrutiny addressed her quandary. As such, she carried on.

Moving away from the city center, she marched on toward the opposite end of town. Living in such a confined space like Inverna it was only natural that many recognized her and vice versa. Holly gave smiles and waves as she passed by many adorned with grassy hair like herself.

In fact, that was all she encountered. The only difference was in what joined the grass – fruit, flowers, or in some rare cases, both. Even so, she stole peeks at the vegetation topping the various people she passed. She could always count on the market district to provide an interesting sight or two. Today's intrigue was provided by a fruit bearer with long red peppers who argued with a flower-crowned individual behind a stall. The flower bearer wore bright pink blossoms on their head, a plant Holly recognized as a lotus.

“You're the one being unreasonable! This is a rare import!” shouted the lotus-bearer.
“You can't even prove that! Unless you're admitting to leaving Inverna,” countered the pepper plant.
The accusation earned a gasp of indignation from the lotus man. “Are you even listening to yourself? Even if I survived leaving the city, I would never be allowed back in!” the lotus asserted.

Holly knew well of the magics the two who argued possessed; her sixth sense, her rhythm told all. The pepper radiated a warmth feared in her people – that of fire. While the lotus shopkeeper exuded the soothing humidity that brought ease – water. Regardless of the elements contained within their plants, the two who bickered represented the natural rivalry of fire versus water.

Even so, the seeds of their adorning plants were useful. Holly allowed herself to touch the breast of her jacket; hidden within rested a satchel of seeds. Carrying her pride – her personal collection – brought calm to her often-turbulent heart if for nothing else but the protection they offered. That being said, despite her repertoire of seeds she possessed, few bore the element of fire.

She stepped away from the escalating argument before a crowd could form and trap her in. She had more important things to be doing than get mixed up in troubles so mundane.

Ding ding ding

A bell chimed as Holly opened the door to the small library on the edge of the city. “Hello!” she called.

“Oh, is that little Holly I hear?” an older voice spoke from the back.
“Yes! I’m back to read more!” Holly sang as she skipped deeper into the forest of books.

As soon as she was out of sight, she allowed her shoulders to catch slack, quietly releasing a held breath as the cheerful façade fell from her face.

Her eyes danced between the shelves, taking in all the titles displayed before her. Books imported from far-off lands were the mainstays of the library. It was the only reason Holly had realized how boring her home was.

Tales of heroes, evil, triumph, passion, and love teased her imagination. She could have been born free, to traverse the wide world in search of companionship.

“The Fire Wielder’s Myth” was the book she plucked from the shelves today. It was a neglected tome, one which her people tended to shy away from given their aversion to the element of fire.

Not Holly though, she found the story inspiring, one of a young human girl named Clarisse who left the safety of home to venture forth and find her partner at the behest of the Sage of Victory, Kitori.

Flipping open to a random page she began to read the old myth, bringing the story of the past to her modern gaze.

“LANCIAFIAMME PIANISSIMO!” Clarisse cried out, holding the gada with both hands in the direction of the beast as she called out the incantation. It wasn’t an action she could explain, borne purely out of instinct. At first nothing noticeable happened to the gada, which confused her. She was considering calling out the incantation again, before she felt a sudden sap in her strength.

Of course, this story was over two thousand years old, but the scenes in it could still be experienced today. The human girl, Clarisse gave her life essence, her rhythm to another of her blood – a Resonator. Through the simple incantation, magic was born.

The space around the fighter suddenly combusted into flames, disseminating the stream of water into a cloud of steam yet again. Clarisse felt the hit to her energy reserves at the same time, nearly being brought to her knees. It was a strange feeling, as if her intentions had bridged the physical gap between them to deliver her strength to something far away. For a moment, she felt a connection before it went away. Looking up, her face lit up as the fighter’s flames had returned to the battle.

The Resonator in this story was a fire element, hence the moniker of “The Fire Hero,” which the pair was known for all over Riterra. In a world like Holly’s where fire meant certain death, this hero was one of the least popular ones.

Zalavan, like herself, all came in one elemental flavor – Nature. Just as the roots of plants dug into the soil with ease, so too did they best those of the earth element. In turn, the wild nature of fire ravaged their bodies which were so closely attuned to plant life. Perhaps this fear is what drove the city of Inverna underground – they could conquer the crust of Riterra and be safe from those who sought to wield fire against them.

As her mind drifted in curiosity a certain landmark came to mind: the tree statue in the center of town. For some reason, she couldn’t get the visage of it out of her mind today. Surely such a plant provided seeds worth the reverence. The fruit it bore wasn’t like any she had familiarity with. She hummed in thought, wondering if there was someone who knew the mystery to her curiosity. As she returned her reading material to its home on the shelf, she smacked her forehead.

It was so obvious she felt silly.

She found her way to the librarian, who was taking their time dusting shelves.

“Uh, excuse me?” called Holly, as sweet as she could muster.
“Ah, little Holly. What is it, my sprout?” the wizened elder asked.
“Well, I was wondering if you knew what the big statue in the middle of town was,” Holly asked, smiling sheepishly as she made her inquiry.

“Oh, my sweet sprout, that is an apple tree. Do you know of Inverna’s Grand Malus?” asked the elder.
“Grand Malus? That’s uhhh… I forget!” Holly laughed playfully. She didn’t actually forget, though she was compelled to play up her innocence.

“The Grand Malus is the one who guides all of Inverna, a Queen if you will. The Grand Malus is one who grows apples, which are said to be the most powerful of all plants. The zalavan's greatest treasure.”

That certainly explained the reverence. But that raised more questions for Holly – ones she couldn’t just ask without the mask slipping.

“Thank you!” she beamed.

Something to consider for later.