Alfie's eyes darted nervously over the thick blanket of trees in front of them. They had separated from the other group the previous day and had spent most of this day riding, until they finally came across the land of Junipers people.

If the sudden surge of vegetation, like they had hit a literal wall of trees, wasn't enough to give it away they even had themselves a little sign. It was a fancy sign, detailing the name 'Bo'Garen'.

However at a quick glance it was clear that the sign was not made for the community that now lived here, nor by them, but was instead a remnant of the old world. The sign hung in the air, topping a metal archway, and was formed of fancy swirling lettering made from gold, or more likely a gold plated metal.

The sign wasn't complete. There were gaps in the letters, sections either overgrown by the new inhabitants or simply collapsing due to the chaos of the new world's arrival.

It was only seeing it in front of him and thinking about where he was, that Alfie finally realised where the name Bo'Garen had come from, and what the sign used to say. A few months before the end of the world, the newspapers had been abuzz about a new project underway.

Yes, surprisingly enough newspapers were somehow still a thing and it only took the apocalypse to finally put a nail in that coffin, but that's beside the point. They had all been stirred up, reporting constantly on a new project to bring extra vibrant life to the countryside, in the form of a new national Botanical Garden.

As far as he could remember, they were still in the process of setting it up and trasplanting a lot of the new plants, but they were eager to tell everyone that they had brought plants from all over the world and were attempting to have one of the most varied collections, like a miniature version of the world in the heart of Scotland.

Although many plants weren't ready, they had been many articles detailing the latest and greatest attraction, mainly because of its dangerous nature and because it was a step towards rivalling an attraction in England. The Scottish rarely got on with the English, so anything to beat them was usually celebrated.

Looking over his shoulder, since Juniper was riding behind him with her arms loosely around his waist, Alfie asked nervously.

"June, You said we were coming here to talk to your Queen..."

"My Mother, Yes. What of it?"

"Well... I just... She didn't happen to evolve from a Manchineel tree, did she?"

"Hmm? Yes, That's her name. How did you know that?"

She tilted her head, the wood of her body creaking slightly as she narrowed her eyes at him in confusion, but Alfie simply let out a whimpering sigh as his hopes completely shattered. Manchineel.

A tree with acidic bark and poisonous fruit. Even the leaves were dangerous. So many different parts of it were already horrible, never mind before being subject to mystical evolution. His mind was already racing, picturing all the different horrific mutations it could have created, as he led the party into the lands of Bo'Garen.

The wall of trees immediately parted for them on their approach, literally lifting themselves from the ground and moving from their path by wriggling their roots to move. Alfie was sure it wasn't because of the antler hanging around his neck, but instead because of the special passenger riding behind him.

The path wound and twisted, a thin mist soon gathering around their mounts ankles as their footsteps squelched in the moist dirt, until eventually they were led into a clearing. Just like they had begun, the wall of trees suddenly stopped, giving way to the view of a flat roofed white building.

It was covered in a variety of creeping vines, moss and other overgrowth. Some of it pierced through the stone of the building as if it had a vengeance against it while others simply grew on it like they were symbiotic.

Some fruits even dangled from the multiple vines, nestled in a bed of beautiful flowers as their skin shimmered tantalisingly with dewdrops of fresh water dripping over their curves. He didn't think he would need to tell his small group not to eat strange fruits, but since there was still a man who was permanently turned purple from doing such things currently living in Ravenkeep, he made sure to give them an extra warning just in case.

"Remember, the prettier it is the less you should want to touch it. That goes double for the women."

A few soft chuckles came from the group as they made their way through the Botanical Gardens and carefully moved towards the building, which Alfie assumed used to be the visitors centre. Unfortunately there was no handy sign to tell him, so he had to rely on basic thought. God forbid.

The inside of the old visitors centre was much like the outside, overgrown and littered in a variety of plants from all around the world. Pitcher plants hung from walls, some of them open and luring new victims with a sweet smell, while others were already closed with victims squirming inside of them.

Considering these pitcher plants were larger than a person, it was best not to think about what that prey was.

Attached to another wall was a collection of mushrooms surrounded in a cloud of dancing spores. These particular mushrooms were being attended to by a variety of servants. Insects of the normal sized and extra large variety, rodents and other beasts such as wolves. There were even a few humans in the mixture, the once pristine white robes of the Lightbringers Blessed hung off their bodies in ruined, dirt stained tatters.

All of these attendants moved lifelessly. Their movements stiff, their arms swinging when they moved, their eyes pure white and always staring off into the distance rather than the task at hand.

They were like puppets, although controlled with much less care and finesse than Seth's own. Instead only prioritising function with no care put towards giving them a false sense of life. Something that would have only been wasted effort, considering they had fungal growths sprouting from their orifices as well as tearing through shattered sections of their skulls.

They did their best to avoid these fungal servants and especially the cloud of spores that lingered around them.

There were flowers with thorns the size of sword blades on their petals, mass of vines that hid mysteries within their shadowy depths, as well as humanoid plant people. Most of them had green or brown skin, with textures like plant fibre or bark to match.

Much like Juniper their appearances were a mixture of plant and person, like they were intentionally imitating them. Puffy ball gowns made out of flowers, belts made of vines. There were even knights with entirely wooden armour, although their helmets were lacking important things like eye holes and instead just had darker wood in place to imitate it. A curious addition was small flowers poking out of the top of these helmets, simple flowers like daisies with different coloured petals.

These flowers, Alfie deduced, seem to have some correlation to the rank of the knights themselves. As they pushed further in, and thus most likely got closer to the leader, the colours shifted. White were guarding the exterior, red filled the majority of the interior and in the final chamber there were in fact two colours. Purple, which guarded the door and stood around the room, and two blue flower knights.

These knights were three times taller than the rest, with armour so thick they could rival a tank and burly hands that ended in wooden claws. The blank expression of knightly helmets was replaced with a growling, monstrous expression.

It was as if an Ent had taken a truckload of steroids and hit the gym ten times a day for a year straight. If it wasn't for the tiny flower sprouting from the tip of their heads, it would have been impossible to think that they were at all related to the puny flower knights.

These gargantuan, swole Ents stood hunched over - as they could not stand to their full height - either side of a giant prehistoric plant with thick petals and that was 3 metres across.

The plant was open, and its spongy petals acted as comfortable pillows on the throne of the Queen of plants. Manchineel Matriarch, as Alfie was choosing to call her.

When she spoke, her voice was enchanting, alluring and sweet but held hints of hidden danger, much like the plants that surrounded her.

"Ah, one of my little sprouts have returned. And she brings with her an offering. I'm surprised to see this from you, little sprout, but your offering is most accepted. Now... Who deserves this feast first?"

She waved her hand lazily, and before Alfie could speak, a thick vine whipped down from above and wrapped tight around his throat, cutting off his words so that all he could get out was a choked squeak before it lifted him clean off of his mount like the hangman's noose.