The Water Bloom Incident (Novella)

By Jade C Wildy

On the planet Orchidella, the leaves of The Great Trees have begun to fall. The Dryads that depend on them are dying. 

 

Ziggy, a Water Dryad and Togo, a multi-limbed Ortük must overcome their differences and discover why the leaves are falling, but the deserts outside the city are dangerous. The ruins of a long-gone, ancient civilization are full of ruthless opalescent skeletons that kill anything they encounter. 

 

Can Ziggy and Togo brave the skeletons and find the secret to the demise of the Great Trees hidden among long-forgotten technology? Or will every Dryad wither and die along with the trees, including her girlfriend?

• Language: English
• Publisher: J W Wordsmith Press
• Release date: Aug 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223948964

Jade C Wildy

Jade Wildy is a South Australian author, living on Kaurna lands. She writes speculative fiction on themes like death, psychological state and being different, who delights in slipping in the unexpected. Her writing feature’s in numerous publications across the world. A self-confessed wallflower, she can frequently be found writing or drawing in the local cafes.

Book preview

The Water Bloom Incident (Novella)

Jade C Wildy

Published by J W Wordsmith Press, 2023.

This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

THE WATER BLOOM INCIDENT (NOVELLA)

First edition. August 1, 2023.

Copyright © 2023 Jade C Wildy.

ISBN: 979-8223948964

Written by Jade C Wildy.

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Dedication

The Water Bloom Incident (Novella)

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About the Author

This story was originally published as part of the Fields of Ruin Collection in 2021. No portion of this book has been generated by AI.

THE CONCOURSE WAS a bustling hive of activity as the Dryads and occasional multi-limbed Ortük went about their day. Bright welcoming sunlight meant the ever-present daytime moons were vivid against the clear blue skies, visible between the branches of the Great Trees. The rich aroma of coffee spilled from busy cafes.

Malvaceae was a city that thrived on creating new innovations and integrating thousands of years old Orchidellan technology. Most of its population of Dryads and Ortüks worked in some kind of tech-related job. The sprawling metropolis, one of the largest cities on Orchidella, was nestled among the desert ruins of a long-dead race. Reminders of the previous inhabitants were everywhere, but even the twisted relics of the ancient buildings beyond the city, jutting into the skyline, were less foreboding in the face of everything that had been achieved in the city.

No one knew what had happened to the ancient Orchidellans. Neither did anyone know what had caused the precious Dryad Trees in Malvaceae to grow to gargantuan proportions, rivalling the ruins in size. With the strange growth of the Great Trees came unusual elemental diversity among the Dryads who lived there. The Great Trees in other cities were home to a handful of Dryads from single element like water or fire, Malvaceae's Trees housed several hundred Dryads and an unrivalled diversity of Elements. Most people attributed the diversity to the fact that they were among the largest Great Trees on the planet.

But none of that mattered to Togo. The Ortük had little to do with Dryads not because he had any issues with them, but because he tended to work alone, setting his six limbs to work on his own projects. He hefted the heavy box of scavenged Old Orchidellan tech he was taking back to work from the ruins. It was a good haul.

Several giggling Dryad children wove their way through the crowd, sparking a growling bark from Togo as he lifted his box out of the way with his midarms to avoid them colliding with it as they shot through his legs. The children tittered until a concerned adult Dryad scolded them. Her long, dark hair and deep, dark eyes gave her a wicked, angry face.

The hearty size difference between Ortüks and Dryads meant that occasional accidents did happen, particularly because Dryad children were shorter than an adult Ortük's knee. The Dryad gave Togo an apologetic look and Togo smiled back, swapping the box to his top-arms. Children would be reckless children, no matter what race they were – and he should know. He lived with his sister and her sizable litters.

A loud gasp drew Togo's attention as, one by one, silence fell among the Dryads. He turned his head in confusion to see what had caused a near-complete standstill on the concourse. They seemed to be staring at the nearest Great Tree. He glanced up. If he was being honest, to Togo, it looked no different than any other overly huge tree, until he noticed one of the immense leaves drifting to the ground. He scratched at the mane of hair that cascaded down his back. He never recalled seeing a leaf fall before, and they were big enough to call attention to themselves.

A glance at the various Dryads around his waist told him this was the focus of their attention. He shifted his box again to his lowest limbs and twiddled with the cords of braided hair on his head, frowning. A new round of gasps came from the Dryads as someone pointed out a second loosened leaf.

Togo made eye contact with another Ortük over the heads of the horror-stricken Dryads. The other Ortük shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, holding up a set of hands as if to say: I have no idea either.

Togo leaned down to a Dryad near him, trying not to loom ominously over her.

Um, I don't mean to be rude or insensitive or anything, because this is clearly very concerning to you... But why are all the Dryads so worried? His ears flicked towards her to listen.

The Dryad flinched at being addressed and turned her face up to Togo. Her fluffy red hair fell back from her eyes, revealing the fear written all over her face.

The Great Trees are at the centre of a Dryad’s existence. They are more than just a house, which I know is what a lot of Ortüks think. They are an extension of the lifeblood that runs through our veins. This tree is sick. Very sick. A tear ran down the cheek of the little Dryad and, as she shifted, Togo realised she was holding a tiny infant Dryad in her arms, his little aura of magic shifting around.

I see. Togo straightened back up.

Somehow saying something like ‘Maybe it won't be so bad’ seemed like horrible, hollow words to tell a new mother. While Togo knew very little about the elemental creatures, despite living and working around them, the gravity of the situation was clear from the horror on each of the Dryads' faces. Some had begun to cry.

Togo looked back up at the thick trunk and broad branches. Several hundred Dryad families would live in that one tree alone. If the Tree died, so might they, unless they could maybe move to a different tree. Was that even possible? Togo asked himself.

Another gasp came from the Dryads. A