Submission (#5312) Approved

AGH! Holy cheese. Yeah, I was going for Kyendi... No worries on the wait! Sorry for letting the region affinity slip my mind... I remember originally I was going to go for gilded anima then changed my mind--I must have spaced on changing the Affinity/AP stuff... -sob-

Regional Affinity: Kyendi
Elnin:https://worldofeyre.com/character/ELN2573 (Zephyr)
1161 Words

The miasma had left just as slowly as it crept in. The elnin all around were in better spirits, and there was plenty of talk about activities going back to normal. Treasure hunting, exploring, and traveling--business as usual. But as all sorts of life bustled around, Zephyr usually found himself weaving through feet and scooting along walls to avoid it. Not that he was anti-social, but he tended to get swallowed up in a noisy room, let alone a noisy town square. Today was no exception. More times than he could count, he had tried asking where he could buy seeds and either got no answer or talked over. He didn't think the people he was speaking to did it maliciously--he just sort of had a habit of sinking into the background. After what he considered a good try, he decided to give up entirely and walk home.

Eiloen was where he lived, with two elnin kind enough to give him a home. A small home, not far from the lake shore but not too far from the town square, all within shade of the magnificent elder tree Zephyr got to look at every day. While he'd seen plenty of illustrations of different elder trees, the one here at home seemed most comforting; like its long willowy branches would scoop him up and hug him any time he needed it. Or maybe if it needed it--the tree was a weeping willow after all. It wasn't far to the house, and he contemplated making a detour, but before he could make a decision he ended up stumbling and landing snoot face in the mud!

"OooOhh..." he groaned, turning to look at what floored him. Nestled amongst his formerly pristine white coat was a lump. A lump with a face and limbs. "A... pomu?"

Zephyr squinted at the offending shape before whirling around and picking it up. It reminded him a lot of his own pomu, Zuzu. You know, but brown. And weird. 

Almost as though she could hear him, Zuzu slinked out of his shadow, peering around him at the strange pomu and giving an offended huff. Zephyr normally would have comforted her but he was... enthralled. "What are you?" he asked the strange thing, turning it over in his paws. 

Rather than head home right away, he decided to plod toward the park, only half listening to the scolding 'Pom-Pomu--Pommmmm's behind him. It didn't take him long to find a nice smooth bolder to plop his tush on--the same one he liked to pretend was one of the many round-topped mountains nearby. His king-mountain rock, or stage, depending on who was asking. Today it was his thinking spot. 

This pomu was clearly...

"A potato." Zephyr lost all interest immediately. Someone had gone through great lengths to make the potato pomu-esque, and while it was interesting it was still... disappointing. Even so, Zephyr set it down gently in front of him, squinting as though it could answer, "Maybe I could just plant you instead? I think that's how it works--bury a potato and get more potatoes?"

The potato-pomu stared back wordlessly.

"Where did it even come from?"

The potato-pomu gave no answer.

Zephyr sighed and got up, turning toward Zuzu. "You wouldn't happen to have a little shovel in there would you?"

Zuzu unfolded her arms and squawked, but turned to dig in his shadow. A shell, a wooden wheel... a spoon! With hope she held it aloft to him, and frowned when he seemed disappointed. With more authority than she probably had, Zuzu shoved the spoon into his paws and went back to digging.

"... thanks..." Zephyr muttered, turning  to start digging a hole surprisingly inefficiently. However what awaited him wasn't fresh moist earth with a potato sitting on it. No, now there were two potato pomus sitting next to each other.

He didn't mean to cry out in surprise, but he did, falling on his butt and clamping his mouth shut with his free hand. This one looked identical to the other with the exception of something underneath it--a paper...

"Potatmu, an elnin's best spud." It read.

Oh ho, this demon spud was no friend of his. He cast his eyes about, suspicious before putting some distance between him and the pair of 'tatos. Zuzu gave a triumphant chirp, toddling toward him with a spade and a bonus--a packet of flower seeds. A bit of excitement crept over him as he took the items, "I knew I should have asked you first Zuzu, you have some of everything." With a soft smile he gently pat her head, chuckling as she gave a satisfied chirp, and looked ready to climb back into his shadow. Even if the world ignored him, he always had Zuzu. Weirdly prepared but terribly organized Zuzu.

And at least they were at the park, so there was plenty of open space to plant these flowers. At home he'd probably have to ask for a pot or risk ruining his adoptive mother's well organized garden. All he knew was that she was dead set on her flowers matching the positioning and coloring of the floating islands nearby or something like that. Like heck he was going to disturb that balance by adding--squint--'daffy-dils' to it.

"Ah!"

Lowering the seed packet gave him a shock--next to Zuzu was another potatmu! Looking back showed that the two that had been there before had moved, one next to Zuzu and other two sat smiling on his rock!

Both startled and at a loss for what to do, he started digging quickly, making a large hole-- but he wasn't going to plant the flowers. No, he was going to plant the potatmu. One, two, three, he plopped them all in the hole and buried them, and only once the mound was solid did he feel safe to blink. What horror movie did he walk into? Even Zuzu seemed a little spooked. Well, not really--she watched him curiously the whole time and then hid in his shadow when she got bored. Typical Zuzu.

Victorious, Zephyr nodded to the dirt mound, "You may be a nin's best friend but you're not mine. That's Zuzu, and no one can replace her. I'm going to plant these flowers with her--OH!"

Back along the path, he saw them, partially obscured by the mist that had rolled in from the mountains. Lined up, one beside another, all with little stick arms and dead eyes and paper masks. Three--no SIX potatmus, all arranged in a half-circle and looking directly toward him. His scream echoed through the park, and he turned to run so suddenly he failed to notice the pair of twitching ears nearby in a bush. To many, a potatmu was a simple harmless prank.

To Zephyr, potatmu would always be a haunted spud from the great gardening beyond and afterlife here to claim his soul.