Day 6 - The Moth King

100 Day Writing Challenge

Day 6

Prompt: A moth-craft, ether, a plant that tells your fortune.

The world was expansive to the jungle critters. More so was the enormity of the world to a species of elf-like creatures smaller than a ladybug, yet whose ambitions were as grand as the moon. It was under this moon that an Enkulal relaxed on a warm banana leaf.

Marsi the Enkulal looked up at the moon blotting out the evening sky. His nerves were on edge. His heart beat an irregular rhythm. He breathed in the calming ambient air of the jungle. The floral snaking around the base of the banana tree wafted up to him.

The next morning was the day he embarked on a journey to the great Nibiyu. Nibiyu was an enchanted plant with the ability to foresee the future of anyone who dared to venture through the dangerous chasm of invisible exploding dew. The trek was far from easy, and only a few could ever navigate their way to the plant of fortune.

Marsi was the prince with this task being his final endeavor to claim the throne. Those with a pure future are allowed to leave the minefield of the exploding dew without incident. However, those who are shown a future of evil or doom are forever forbidden from escaping the chasm, eternally forced to fearfully wander the deathtraps or die in their infernos.

Morning broke through the darkness all too soon for the king-to-be. The entire tribe gathered around the banana tree, flying on the backs of butterflies and dragonflies. A multi-colored cloud swarmed the top of the banana tree until the Moth King came to a landing on a bunch of green bananas.

“Today marks the day my son takes claim to the throne and I succeed my crown to rest upon his temples.” The Moth King dismounted his regent moth and stepped out on a leaf that centered himself in the midst of the other Enkulal.

Marsi wore a banana blossom crown that symbolized the transformation from prince to king. As the blossom would soon develop into a bunch of bananas that sustained the tribe for months, he, too, would develop into a Moth King and rule the tribe for years to come.

“Go, now, my son. And claim the fortune of the great Nibuyu to escape the chasm and return to accept the throne of your people.”

The regent moth fluttered to Marsi and landed at his feet. Marsi climbed atop the moth’s delicate body, nestled between two majestic wings. With a shout, the regent moth rocketed into the sky, making its way into the dangers of the chasm in which the fortune plant may be found.

With an instinct unfathomable to Marsi, the moth weaved through the invisible ether, effortlessly avoiding any fiery deaths. At the end of the chasm rose the cliff, jagged and daunting, where the great Nibiyu grew. The plant was at least five times the size of a bunch of bananas. Leaves of red and blue poked from the sides while a trunk of sharp spikes surrounded a small crevice.

Marsi dismounted the regent moth near the crevice, far enough away that the moth’s wings remained unbothered by the thorny barrier. He ducked beneath the threshold of death and entered the mouth of the fortune plant. The ground shook beneath his feet and the crevice shut behind him.

Darkness.

Marsi’s breath heaved in shallow spasms. He heard stories as a child of the nature of the Nibiyu, and each was more haunting than the next. But nothing was comparable to the terror he was experiencing as the ground continued to shake and deep red lights illuminated from above.

In a rumbling voice, the Nibiyu came to life. “Welcome, Marsi, son of Moth King Joom. It has been some time since I have foretold his future. It pleases me well that you, his son, has come forward years later to claim your fortune. Please, come sit down.”

A circle of blue ignited a few paces in front of him. He made his way to the center of the lights and sat himself down. From above two tentacle-looking things snaked their way down in front of Marsi’s face. Before he could protest, the tentacles lurched out onto his eyes, blinding him.

A vision of a fire burned in his mind. Screams and cries swallowed him. He looked around to see that the banana tree their tribe had lived in for generations was engulfed in flames, crashing to the ground. A flurry of dragonflies and butterflies swooped from the tumbling tree and soared off into the sky, led by the regent moth and the Moth King.

The vision stopped. The air went silent. The tentacles withdrew back up into the darkness above. Marsi stared into the blue lights in front of him while the voice rumbled back into conversation.

“Your future is not one of ease or pleasure. It is harrowing. Death preys at your door. But that Moth King you saw leading your tribe into a new world, a world safely away from the embers of that inferno, was you. Therefore, with your future pure, yet troubled, I release you from the dangers of the ether and return you to your tribe that you may become the Moth King. Speak not of the visions you saw, but begin to prepare them for the changes they must make in order to arrive safely at their new home on the Day of the Fire.”

The crevice of the plant opened the the light of day pierced into the darkness. The blue lights faded, and the fluttering of the regent moth echoed throughout the inside of the plant. Marsi arose to his feet and mounted the moth waiting from him outside. The leaves of the plant swayed revealing a new path by which they could escape the minefield of the chasm.

Marsi returned to the banana tree and knelt before his father. With jubilant fanfare, the Moth King placed the crown upon the head of his son, pronouncing him the new Moth King of the Enkulal.

Marsi stood on the center leave in the midst of his tribespeople and gleamed. He passed the test of the plant of fortune. He would save his people from the Day of the Fire. He was the Moth King.



-(c) Kevin Barrick