Mukvir Interlude (Post-Tripartite)

High Advisor Yolonko, of Mukvun Court, hung on a golden palace branch. It had been there for weeks and would be for weeks longer. The Grand Bloom did not need advising. He rarely did.

The role of the Grand Bloom was ceremonial, a living symbol of the Mukvir’s pride, and by the radiance of his petals, proof of the legitimacy of the Courts for the many thorns below.

The Grand Blom was peculiar. He had no authority but was the living embodiment of authority for Mukvir everywhere. Yolonko had overseen six Grand Blooms so far, and this one was his favourite.

Not like the others, this one talked, asked questions about the declarations he signed. Yolonko considered him a friend. The pruning of the Grand Bloom was the High Advisor’s sole responsibility, and it would not hesitate when the time came.

Already, the vibrancy of the Grand Bloom’s green was starting to recede. In dereliction of duty, Yolonko had pretended not to notice but it wouldn’t be long before it reached the flowers and there could be no more delays. The Grand Bloom was smart enough to know this.

In another four years, three if the Grand Bloom kept up his smoking, Yolonko would lose a friend.

That would be a day of sighs.

Yolonko hung on the golden palace branch and fidgeted with the pipe in its tendrils. The health of the next generation was essential. If the courts were to survive, no decline in quality of pollen could be tolerated.

The High Advisor knew this and accepted it, but for it, there was no more mukva in the act. Rather than the triumph of scant over flower it once was, it was a chore. Like any chore, it must be done.

It slid the pipe into its mouth and fiddled with its lighter… Ah, there it was. Yolonko started to puff, contemplating the smoke. The muukiv was a pleasant pastime for most of the courts. A thing to focus on and avoid slipping into the waking trance. For the Mukvir, it was a nootropic with pleasant, if minor visuals.

For most non-vegetable life, to the best of Mukvir awareness, the orange moss, meticulously scraped from the tree trunks of Ukkuv and reduced to a fine powder, was far more intense.

Yolonko swayed on the branch and recalled the Humun. Alben, yes. He actually took the muukiv pipe and smoked it. Now, that… that was mukva. The most the High Advisor had felt in years.

The Humun was nice, impatient and insistent on trying to go fast but moving so, so very slowly, like most of his kind. Alben explained many things about Humuns, confirmed some of Yolonko’s theories and disproved some others. Of interest was the position of Eemproor.

Unlike the Mukvir’s Grand Bloom, the Humun’s Eemproor possessed real authority and his word outweighed any one house- the Humun equivalent of a court. Like the Grand Bloom, he was a figurehead, a symbol for the Humuns to rally around.

This combination, of tangible authority and visual authority, was unheard of for Mukvir kind. The scants ruled from the shadows, the most stable, most sensible method. Humuns did it differently, and did not seem to care about the lack of safety.

There was a curious strangeness to the alien customs. Quite fascinating. All Alben had told him had been the talk of the courts ever since. There was a more serious interest in Humuns of late, of renewed trade and other sorts of things. Not quite mukva, but getting there.

The Eemproor Alben was friendly, cooperative… Too friendly, too cooperative. Humuns pushed too far, too fast. The Mukvir could not allow a sudden intrusion into their pristine garden worlds, especially after Humuns just finished a reckless war between houses. Rushing to conclusions could only lead to an early wilting.

Mukvir were patient. Mukvir would approach Humuns at their own pace. Possibly soon, possibly never. They could not be rushed.

That would bring great mukva.