Michael felt a deep sense of pride watching the Eldergarden Project grow and thrive. The city children had transformed small, neglected gardens into vibrant hubs of life, and the food they produced was unlike anything the city had seen before. The vegetables were flavourful and fresh, bursting with the vitality that came from living soil. More and more people in the city were choosing to buy their food from the Eldergardens rather than from Mr. Santo’s enormous supermarkets.
The project was a huge success, and Michael could see how it was changing not just the gardens but the children themselves. They had discovered the joy of working with nature, and they understood the importance of healthy soil in growing good food. They were a team now, the Hundred Huns of the City, and their pride in their work was evident in every garden they tended.
But not everyone was happy about the Eldergarden Project’s success. In his towering glass office on the outskirts of the city, Mr. Santo sat fuming over his latest sales reports. His supermarkets were losing customers, and his profits were dwindling. “This can’t go on,” Santo muttered, pacing back and forth. “I’ve spent years building my empire, and I’m not going to let a bunch of kids with shovels and seeds ruin it.”
He slammed his fist on his desk, his face darkening with anger. “If they want to play farmers, I’ll show them what real farming looks like,” he said, a sly grin creeping across his face. “It’s time to teach those children a lesson.”
Santo’s Cunning Plan
Santo spent the next few days devising a plan to sabotage the Eldergardens. He knew he couldn’t compete with the taste and quality of their food, so he decided to attack them where they were most vulnerable: their lack of experience. “These children are new to farming,” he told his team of salesmen. “They don’t know what’s good for their soil. It’ll be easy to convince them to use my bottled plant food.”
Santo instructed his salesmen to sell his plant food at half price and to visit the Eldergardens directly. “Make it sound like a miracle,” he said. “Promise them bigger harvests, quicker results, and easier gardening. And make it fun – throw in free lollipops with every bottle.”
The salesmen were clever and crafty, and they followed Santo’s orders to the letter. They visited the Eldergardens with bright smiles and colourful bottles in hand. “Your gardens are looking great,” they told the children. “But wouldn’t you like to grow even more food? With Santo’s plant food, you can double your harvest without doubling your effort. It’s easy, it’s quick, and it works like magic! And here—have a free lollipop to sweeten the deal.”
The city children, tempted by the promise of bigger crops and the lure of free treats, decided to give it a try. They bought Santo’s plant food and poured it onto their soil, eager to see the results.
The Hidden Cost
At first, Santo’s plant food seemed like a miracle. The crops grew faster and looked bigger, just as the salesmen had promised. The children were thrilled. “This is amazing!” they exclaimed. “Santo’s plant food really works!”
But the children didn’t realize that there was a hidden cost to using the bottled plant food. Deep underground, trouble was brewing. The soil microbes – the Terias, the Nemmys, and all their friends – began to fall ill. The Glyphos, Santo’s chemical agents, were spreading through the soil like an invisible army, killing microbes and disrupting the delicate balance of the soil ecosystem.
The once-bustling soil underworld grew quiet as the microbial community struggled to survive. The plants, now reliant on Santo’s chemical food, stopped producing exudates, the sugary substances that fed the microbes. The partnership between plants and microbes was broken, and the soil began to lose its life.
Zome’s Discovery
Back at Michael’s Hunstead, Zome was hard at work weaving his fungal threads when he began to sense a disturbance in the soil network. Messages from the Terias and Nemmys in the Eldergarden soils were coming in fast, and the news wasn’t good.
“The Glyphos are back,” Zome muttered, his fungal threads quivering with anger. “Those chemical fiends are killing the microbes and feeding the plants with artificial food. They’re fooling the plants into thinking they don’t need us anymore.”
Michael, sensing that something was wrong, decided to visit Zome in the soil underworld. As he shrank down into the soil, he found Zome pacing back and forth, his fungal threads shimmering with frustration.
“Zome, what’s going on?” Michael asked.
Zome turned to him, his face grim. “The Glyphos have invaded the Eldergardens. They’re working for Santo, spreading his bottled plant food and killing the microbes – the Glyphos hate us! The plants have been tricked into relying on the chemicals, but it’s a trap. Once the microbes are gone, the soil becomes dead, and the plants can only survive if the Huns keep buying more and more of Santo’s bottled food.”
Michael frowned. “That’s why the crops are growing so fast,” he said. “But it’s not real growth—it’s just chemicals. The soil is dying.”
The Fallout
Back in the city, the children began to notice that something wasn’t right. Although their crops were bigger, the food didn’t taste the same. It lacked the flavour and nutrition that had made the Eldergardens so special. Worse, the children realized that they were spending all their earnings on buying more of Santo’s plant food. The Eldergardens, once a source of joy and pride, were becoming a burden.
When the city’s residents noticed the decline in quality, they stopped buying from the Eldergardens. Letters poured into Michael’s Hunstead from worried city children. “Michael,” one letter read, “our gardens aren’t the same anymore. What should we do?”
The Full Moon Meeting
Michael knew this was a serious problem. The Glyphos had to be stopped, and the city Huns needed to learn how to protect their soil. He called for a meeting under the next full moon, inviting the city children, the Hundred Huns, and the Elderhuns to gather around the bonfire.
That night, the Hunstead was alive with the flicker of firelight and the hum of voices. Michael stood at the centre, his face lit with determination. “Santo has tricked us,” he said. “His bottled plant food may seem like it helps, but it’s destroying the soil. The Glyphos are killing the microbes that make our soil alive.”
The children listened intently, their faces filled with concern. “We’ve been fooled,” one of the city kids admitted. “We didn’t know the damage it was causing.”
Michael nodded. “It’s not your fault. Santo is clever, but we’re smarter. We need to stop using his bottled plant food and rebuild the soil. The microbes are our friends—they’re the ones who bring life to our gardens.”
“But how do we fix the soil?” another child asked.
Michael smiled. “We’ll do it the same way we always have—with teamwork, knowledge, and the magic of nature. Together, we can heal the soil and make the Eldergardens thrive again.”
The Fight for Living Soil
Michael spent the rest of the meeting teaching the city children how to repair their soil. He explained how to compost, how to plant cover crops to rebuild the microbial community, and how to work with Zome and the fungi to restore balance. The Elderhuns pledged their support, promising to help the city children spread the word about the dangers of Santo’s plant food.
By the end of the night, the group was filled with hope….
