I'm so sorry… This time I have no excuse for my lateness. Hopefully this chapter adds enough to the mystery to make up for being so long in coming.

Chapter Sixteen

Digital Stories

Raiden breathed a heavy sigh. Whatever Kusabana no Gensanchi was, it felt sweet and welcoming and full of subtle life. She and Imon would be safe in this beautiful place.

Behind her, she felt Sunflowmon's presence recede. "I will leave you now," spoke the dry voice. Raiden didn't bother to watch the plant-like Digimon leave. "Mingle. Others will tell you of life here."

"Let's go," urged Imon, hopping towards the gently rustling crowd. "I am immensely curious."

Nearby, a cluster of flowers leaned against a craggy tree trunk. They had wide pink flowers, with a curlicue poking out of the top. Each had two long leaves, which split into three purple fingers near the end. The flowers bobbed, and began to encircle Raiden, waddling on stumpy green feet.

As they got closer, Raiden smelled their overpowering stench. She staggered, and tried to hold her breath. No good- the smell was already trapped in her nostrils. Her Digivice displayed a single such creature. "Palmon (rookie), is a mutated palm tree. It is protected by its smell, which becomes even more unbearable when it uses its Stinking Attack." The Palmon joined hands, and lifted their bulbous heads. Raiden could now see their faces clearly- large emerald eyes, and a toothy mouth below.

Raiden noticed she was separated from Imon. Where was he? One of the Palmon carried a string of flowers. It walked toward Raiden, whose eyes watered as the smelling bloom came directly under her nose. Palmon stood on its toes, and managed to slip the wreath over Raiden's head when she sagged. She couldn't remember how long she could hold her breath, but it couldn't be much longer than this. "On behalf of the official Kusabana no Gensanchi welcoming committee," each of the Palmon sang, "We cordially welcome you to our humble home."

The floral Digimon began to turn counterclockwise in their circle. Their movements grew faster and faster. Raiden could find no memories to explain what they were doing. She was afraid, and the Palmons' smell was giving her a headache, whether or not she could breath. Not taking time to worry about their safety, she charged through their circle, and staggered around the edge of the settlement, away from the crowd.

After a few seconds, she completely lost her balance and fell on her side, sliding an inch or two from her momentum. The wreath of flowers broke off her neck- but the petals, oddly, weren't crushed. The earth was surprisingly cool, and the dirt felt powdery and pleasant. Raiden lay still, recovering her breath.

Imon's voice came from somewhere just beyond Raiden's field of vision. "Get up off the ground, Raidenmon. It's dirty."

Raiden moved slightly, and caught a glint of metal out of the corner of her eye. Imon could possibly be the only metal thing in the whole place. She sat up the rest of the way, and smiled at the tiny creature. He was sheltering in a shadowy doorway, crowded with jars of tame herbs. The hut was decorated with pictures of Digimon leaping joyously into the air, surrounded by a yellow glow raining from the sky, and a green glow that seemed to be coming from the ground. Inexplicably, Raiden became annoyed that Imon had escaped trouble.

"Come in here. There are some very nice Digimon who can answer our questions."

The hut was only about five feet tall, and the door three feet high. Raiden hesitated for a moment, before crawling in. Within was very dim. Sheaves of dry plants completely covered the walls, filling the room with spicy aromas. But this smell wasn't bad. In fact, Raiden was glad for it, as it forced the last of the Palmons' odor out of her nose.

A single beam of crisp light shone down on a straw mattress in the middle of the room. Near the mattress, a tablecloth was thrown on the dirt floor, and various wooden cups and tools were spread upon it. Someone, shape indistinct in the darkness, was working with the tools. It rustled loudly when it moved. It spoke to the person hovering beside it in a dry, cracked voice, and the assistant briskly snapped some herbs off of the wall, and brought them back to the workplace.

"This is Raidenmon," Imon announced to the pair. "She's my partner."

Raiden's Digivice lit up. It first showed a grayish Digimon draped in a sackcloth robe. Its face looked like a bag with buttons sewn on for eyes, and a stitched mouth that was coming undone. It wore a pointy hat- a bundle of straw, splayed at the bottom, tied together with red thread. Instead of hair or hands, there were merely sloppily tied bundles of herbs. "Brujamon (champion)," she was called, "a rag doll come to life through the power of witchcraft, is finely in tune with the forces of nature. Her Coma Brew puts victims into a sleep from which they might never wake!"

Immediately after that, it displayed a Digimon almost identical to Palmon, except for a purple flower, and red 'toes'. This was, "Aruraumon (rookie), a giant alraune plant! One day it got fed up with merely growing, and got up and walked. If it doesn't like you, it may attack with Nemesis Ivy or Hungry Hand."

"Hello to you too, Raidenmon," the dry voice said. It sounded grandmotherly, Raiden thought, and, hearing it, she could almost remember what a grandmother was.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," added the assistant. Its voice was high and sweet.

"Imon says you're going to answer our questions," Raiden said, only wondering afterward if that had been polite. The assistant crossed its arms.

The creature with the old voice set down her tools, and stepped into the light. Brujamon looked exactly like the Digivice described- Raiden was amazed by its accuracy. The witch doll Digimon sat down on the mattress, her robe billowing. "I have never been beyond the walls of Kusabana no Gensanchi, and do not hope to know what it its like. About my home, however, I know all there is to know."

This statement clicked in Raiden's mind. "So you're like Imon," she blurted. Imon gagged, rocking forward in alarm.

Brujamon shook her head, which swing unnaturally. "I do not know your friend. But perhaps he would not like me to know?" The stitched mouth opened and closed as she spoke. Raiden wondered how a doll stuffed with herbs could be able to speak with such a human voice.

"What is this place?" Imon asked quickly. Raiden shut her mouth, indignant that he'd stopped her from talking.

"Ahh…" Brujamon sighed happily. "Where to begin…"

"This is a safe haven for all plantlike Digimon. We can work, or make merry, or do whatever we please, without fear of Lilithmon's empire," supplied the assistant. Following Brujamon's example, it moved into the light and kneeled on the mattress.

Raiden quickly clapped her hands over her nose. After a few seconds, though, she relaxed. The Digimon looked like Palmon, but she couldn't smell it at all. "…The herbs must hide the stink!" She said in surprise.

Aruraumon scowled briefly. "I'm not one of those saucy Palmon. And I definitely don't stink like one."

Brujamon laid a hand on Aruraumon's shoulder. "It is not the job of a healer to judge," she told her apprentice. "Keep your prejudice to yourself." Aruraumon closed her eyes solemnly, as if struggling with some inner demon.

"And you shouldn't be so rude, either, Raidenmon. Think of other people's feelings!" Imon, not to be outdone, scolded Raiden.

Raiden shook her head frustratedly. "I don't know how… I can't remember…"

"Excuses, excuses."

The witch doll Digimon picked the threads of conversation back up. "Kusabana no Gensanchi was founded by Cherrymon, the true ruler of the forest. He knew that the invading powers were stronger than his own, and so he rallied the forest dwellers to build the walls that surround us now. With everyone protecting one another, we are strong enough to resist the Factory… as well as many older enemies."

"But do not think we are a people who live in fear. Aside from a few sentries, we normally go about our lives happily here. Here there is sun and water, and the ground is clean. We keep all crafts alive in our houses."

"A beautiful speech," said Imon appreciatively.

Brujamon nodded. "It is also said in the old stories that the spirit of the forest was born here. All plantlike Digimon feel a bond with this place."

"But we don't believe in the old stories, do we?" asked Aruraumon rhetorically, turning its head on its side, with an odd expression. Something sent an excited tingle down Raiden's spine.

"No. A healer must focus on the present, nor ever believe that anything is predestined. I love Kusabana no Gensanchi not because of what I am, but because of what it is. No other form of love is as true." As Brujamon spoke, Aruraumon nodded, as if it had heard it all before.

Raiden smiled, and leaned back on her hands. Her hair brushed softly against her arms. "What are these stories? I've never heard them." she asked eagerly. Imon gave her a warning glance: Don't say too much, or they might realize you're human.

"The stories are… very old, and very long. It would take days to recite them all. They concern the creation, destruction, and rebirth of the Digital World. The most famous, the Story of the Sunset, is said to be the only data surviving from the original Digital World. Although, it has become very confused by static through the ages, and its true meaning may well be lost." Brujamon, too, leaned back, gazing through the hole in the roof.

"So how does the story go?" Raiden urged impatiently.

"In short, it is about a world before the dawn of life as we know it. Other beings lived there, mysterious entities made of an equally mysterious… thing… that transcended information. It was a changeable world; love could suddenly become hate, knowledge could suddenly become ignorance. And that is what happened.

"Many were deleted- and somehow, there was nothing of them left over to become an egg. Because of this, there was soon almost no one left at all. One of the last beings became crazed with loss, and decided that the only way for the world to be preserved was for everyone to leave it." By this point, Brujamon seemed to be getting into the story in spite of herself and her modern outlook.

"He took all the data that had been held captive within the world's cities. Until then, each idea had been kept separate, so that it remained shapeless. But this being set it all free, and it mixed together to become our world.

"The story goes on to explain how their cities crumbled. Parts of their world vanished into the void, as ours separated completely. 'Like a birdmon released from its cage,' it is described. The rest of the inhabitants of the 'Real World', as it is called from then on, are ordered to leave in the gates that formed. The story doesn't say if they did or didn't. But that's where it ends." Brujamon took a deep breath.

"Some people actually do believe in this stuff," Aruraumon snorted, crossing its arms. "I tell them, the finest scientists in the Digital World have proved that anything without a name and definition cannot exist. But some people just like to believe that there's something out there more 'real' than they are. I don't get it."

Raiden couldn't help getting riled at that. Aruraumon had as good as said Raiden didn't exist! She tried not to show it, and contented herself with saying, "If it really was a different world, maybe things worked differently there."

Brujamon nodded politely. "That's a common argument. But I think it's assuming a bit too much. Come; let's talk about something more useful."

"Yes! I agree completely!" said Imon vehemently, jabbing Raiden sharply in the leg. Raiden assumed that the gesture meant something, but wasn't sure what.

She looked down at her own body, and tried to think of a satisfactory definition for it. She couldn't. She knew she came from some other world, though she could remember next to nothing about it. Imon had said chi was much stronger than data… perhaps she came from the Real World. She came from… a fairytale world? But the mons at the factory had talked about her as if she were real. "Are there any other stories about this…Real World?"

This time Aruraumon answered. "No, but, in a few there are humans…"

Raiden's eyes lit up. "What about humans?" she asked, perhaps too quickly.

"We have to go now, Raidenmon!" Imon almost shouted, pulling Raiden's leg towards the door. He wasn't strong enough to move her, but Raiden was so surprised that she went after him.

Imon kept hopping until they were a good distance away from the hut. A few thick trees hid them from the rest of the settlement. "I thought I was the baby, not you!" Imon groaned.

"I think you're worrying too much. Those two wouldn't have believed me if I told them! And I badly wanted to know." Raiden jabbed her finger into her palm, prepared to argue.

Imon paused, considering what had been said in the past few minutes. "…You're probably right. My actions probably raised more suspicion, in the end." He rocked bashfully back and forth.

Raiden was almost disappointed that she didn't have to row with her friend. But she was relieved, too. "Yeah, who'd believe I'm a human if I can't even remember… what a human… is…" her voice trailed off.

Imon looked at her shrewdly. "This place is very isolated. There are a lot of things the mons here never got a chance to learn."

Raiden heard him, but she was already heading down her train of thought. She wanted to ask questions, as if it might replace her missing memory. But without her memory, how could she really be sure she wasn't just a mon like the rest of them, with a few special abilities. She flopped down into a cushion of moss, and put her head contemplatively in her hands.

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