Of The
Jungle
Tucked deep in the Jungle of Ten
Terrors (a name coined by a 'famous explorer' who really just collated a series
of rumours about the place) there lies a village. This village is one of
several villages inhabited by one of the 'Terrors' of the jungle - the 'Plant
People'. It is said that they are part man, part plant, and all danger; walking
horrors of flesh and vegetation. Many are the tales of brave explorers who have
found themselves suddenly surrounded, the trees seeming to come alive as the
bark covered plant people rise all around them... That so many survive these
attacks unharmed is perhaps the greater surprise.
This rumour, like most of the
others, is incorrect but has its roots in truth. The so-called 'Plant People'
are ordinary humans - except they are each symbiotically joined with what is
normally a parasitic plant species. Several varieties of this plant exist. Each
tightly connects with the flesh of the people, digging and blending their roots
into the flesh of their host. The variety that is joined to the warrior-hunters
grants a fearsome, almost inhuman appearance - a coating of bark from head to
toe with very few gaps. To outsiders, they seem almost like a race of walking
trees; yet when harmed they bleed. This, more than anything else, gave rise to
the rumour.
The majority of the plant
people, though rarely seen outside their never-before-visited villages, are
vastly more human in appearance. Their plants are specialised for tasks that do
not require coverage of the entire body for safety. Amongst the other varieties
are the farmers, whose plants grow highly nutritious (and safe to harvest)
delicacies for frequent harvest; the crafts-folk, who have vines they control
to support what they work on or hold extra tools - some vines even end in specialised
tools for one trade or another; those who delve in the caves or the waters,
whose plants keep them from running out of breath; and many more.
Today the village is bustling
with activity. It is the 'day of planting', a very important yearly ritual in
all villages of the plant people. It is during this ritual that children who
have reached three years of age are joined to the plants that will grow with
them for the rest of their lives. The plants are cultivated by the grandparents
of the children (or their parents, if they have no grandparents) in pots for
three years after the child's birth; and on the day of planting they are
removed from their pots and allowed to join to the children.
Though likely a disturbing sight
for outsiders - the wriggling roots of the plants are perhaps not the most
delightful thing in the world - this yearly ritual is a day of happiness within
the village. It celebrates the new life of the child and plant; and also the
conjoining of their existences. It reminds all present of their unity with and
reliance upon the plants that provide them with food, convenience and safety in
a jungle full of horrors.
Two of each child's relatives
accompany them in the ritual. One - either of the child's direct parents -
holds the child; the plant is held by whoever cultivated it. When their turn
comes, the three - child, parent, planter - walk to the centre of the gathered
villagers (in this village, in a field just outside of their homes) to perform
he joining. The child is presented, then the plant, and then with great
solemnity the plant is allowed to plant its roots within the child. Each
presentation is greeted with cheers; and a final, louder cheer when the joined
child is raised to show the joining's completion.
There are very few cases of
planting in which the child does not cry. The joining is a painful process, and
only the bravest, strongest children can hold back their tears. But few bawl;
each, though very young, has already been told that this is the most important
day of their lives. Even marriage pales in importance before the day they were
joined. Despite the importance of the day, very few remember it. At the time
they are planted they are, after all, at most nearly four years old.
Typically the ritual will
complete without any rejections, but there will be the odd instance in which a
plant will refuse to join. When this happens, it does not stigmatise the child.
Instead, it is the fault of the plant's grower - this plant is not suitable for
humans. The plant is destroyed, and although the child will not participate in
the ritual again it is the grower's duty to try again and again to grow a
suitable plant. To fail for years results in being truly shunned; most
especially by the growing, plant-less child. Should the child reach the age of
ten without being joined the grower will be barred from growing ever again; and
the entire village will chip in to help grow a suitable plant.
Traditional feasting follows the
ritual - perhaps the reason the ritual is looked forward to with excitement,
even by those who have no relatives being planted that year. There are no other
festivals for these people (although the bi-weekly harvest of the farmers is
often treated as a party - the high alcoholic content of some of the 'treats' is
the likely cause of this). The ritual of planting is the one time of the year
they are allowed to truly enjoy themselves.
To say it is the only time of
the year that they can forget momentarily that they live in the Jungle of Ten
Terrors, one of the most dangerous places in the world and one that almost
qualifies as a blight despite not being blasted or destroyed, is sadly true.
For the rest of the year, most villages live in fear of sudden attacks from
countless sources and must deal with the violent deaths of dozens. Yet this
village does not - for they know the will of the Glorificant. She protects them
with her glory. They repay her with their worship.
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