A Short Insight into Silva

A Short Insight into Silva

Arcadia and Silvas’s Landscape

Upon entering the mark, your senses are forced into submission as the tumescent air hits you. An ocean of forest, streaked with silvery lined rivers and rolling orchards that pepper the outskirts of the denser woodlands. If your eyes could invent a new colour, if they could break that condition, Silva is the Wild World to do so. The perfumed nectar smothers you and you can taste the Rosia even before seeing it.

Arcadia, the capital lies in the heart of the Lumen forest, it’s dark canopies lie hidden, while the farmlands stretch in every direction, irrigation pipe ways tattoo the ground in spidery webs, channeling nectar from the soft earth to feed the new saplings. Large mist clouds perpetually sail the more barren contours as the thick liquid evaporates and dusts the unsuspecting land. Trade posts gather where the nectar can be sold to farmers, while the richer citizens have direct feeds to their guarded farmyards.  In the absence of the sea water, the trees rally as the green ocean.

Arcadia is a monstrous market place, where most Silvians journey to for trade and access wild imports. The Grand Market lies in the heart of the city, a  chaotic clamor of all beasts and neutral Silvians set on the same goal to rid themselves of their own Rosia crop and trade for higher strains.

A neutral Silivian carries the same iridescent eyes, like labradorite minerals that allow other wild creatures to identify them once transformed into their animal forms. They are of average height, with over pronounced arched back bones that give them a slumped disposition, the skin is jet coloured, with a paler pigmentation around their hands and feet. A thin layer of fur lines their skin, like velvet and their mannerisms, are quiet and contained. One could describe them as half finished as if they were destined to live in a world where  a substance grows that gives them the ability to transform into something full. Now let us speak of that substance, Rosia.

The Various Forms of Rosia

Nectar is clear, thick and smells sweet: heady and intoxicating. The nectar is the sole producer of the Rosia, colloquially phrased as “fruit”. Three strains of Rosia grow in Silva. Localle Fruit, Ripe Fruit, and the Savor Fruit.

Localle Fruit

Is the most abundant form of  Rosia. Its appearance implores for instant consumption, usually vivid in colour, shades of bloated orange, chunky leaves that ooze delectable sap once broken open. Their appearance is a devastating combination of everything that a creature could hunger and thirst for. Which is a thankful thing as these fruits only causes temporary mutations into a variety of common species: most frequently; deer, medium sized birds, woodland animals such as the fox and boar and reptilian creatures such as the adder and toad. The more consumed the greater the proportion of the body is mutated. An amusing sight is watching lazy Silvians gorge on a patch of Localle Fruit and shudder into their animal state restricted by the head only, their awkward feral heads chattering away while their body remains unchanged beneath.

Ripe Fruit

Often referred to as “Rarre Fruit” it is seldom found and highly coveted.  The germination and harvesting of these strains of Rosia are kept with old families as heirlooms, sold at great prices at the Grand Market or remain as myth and legend to the Silvian communities. A more familiar strain of Rarre Fruit is that of the Panthe and the Aves which cause transformations into feline predators and various birds of prey.

The main definitive nature of Rarre fruit is that the consumption ends in permanent metamorphosis, families are identified by their finite forms and hand over their sacred fruit to their children and very rarely share it.


A Strain of Rosia that is a mutation of its original strain that produces the other two types of fruit. Savor is often nicknamed, ”forbidden fruit” as though the fruit still lends transforming qualities, the effects are adverse, deadly and quite usually fatal. Many farmers are struck down with plagues of Savor that consume their pure strain. The infestation needs to be burned down quickly before it can spread. Savor looks like a thick thorned vine, thistle like sea holly in appearance and usually a putrid blue in colour.

However there are Silivians who relish in the taste of Savor, it’s repugnant odor is highly addictive. Most transformations result in insect like forms if they can be likened to such a thing but mainly those that eat the Savor are called the Hoarde. Monsters, beasts and irreparably wrong aesthetically, broken and wicked, these transfigured abnormalities wreak havoc on the other Silvian population and lust to trick others into their dark path.

Eleazar and The Flame Lily

Deep within the ash mountains, there is a flower-shaped fruit that lies frozen in the earth. Only once the Silvian who carried its last flower perishes does the new sapling break from the ice and is resurrected. The flower is called the flamma lilium, the flame lily, the only one in existence. Many take the pilgrimage to the high mountain glaciers where the way is lost and forgotten. Eleazar, took a company of wolves and bears that kept him warm and strong on the long journey to the peak and found the lily alive and burning. He took it in his grasp and pinned it to his woolen coat,  taking one petal to his frozen lips, he ate the warm flesh. In that moment he was changed, his skin melted and wings erupted from his spine.  He became a Phoenix, a mantle of fire, a torrent of embers pouring from his once smooth skin. He went onto be one of the most fabled Phoenix in the long bloodline of the lily and is remembered by the highest order in Arbor.

The Hoarde and the Nimis

The Hoarde as previously discussed are despicable creatures that foul the precious earth that lies across Silva. They hunt and pillage the farms, seeding Savor and looking for fresh fruit to consume to satisfy their hungry bellies. A favourite evil deed is to ensnare unsuspecting neutral Silvians and force feed them fruit until they are swollen, docile and cease to exist through this terrible concoction. These victims are known as the Nimis, lost souls who are unable to change back, spiked with gluttonous desire and numb in feeling. The Nimis roam like cattle across the Silvian fields like locust that devour and consume all in their path and are used by the Hoarde frequently to cause havoc.

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