The Man Who Lived in a Cactus House

Once there was a man who worked the land that had long belonged to his family, growing chicory to feed the livestock kept by his neighbors. The man was Indra Sharma, the eldarch of his family. He kept their land well fertilized and tithed his yield to the porcupines, the patron spirit of the Sharma family. He was kind to those who helped him in the harvest. Soon, Indra grew wealthy from good yield. He knew that wealth is meaningless if it goes unspent, and that heavy pockets make men greedy, so he went to market to discover a new pleasure he could indulge in, and trade his gold for joyful experience.
At the market, Indra saw a merchant ship traveling from Ilkatu carrying many exotic fruits he had never heard of, and purchased several for his family to try. That night, they indulged in the fruit for dessert. The sweet and exotic flavors captivated the family, but the fruit that most allured Indra was the size of a heart, and the color of it inside. He returned to the merchant the next day and asked what the fruit was.
Indra was told that the fruit came from a plant called a cactus. He asked to learn more of the cactus, and the merchant told him of a hardy tree that needs little water, made of hollow wood that is very light when dried. The cactus grows in the harsh deserts of Ilkatu, under a brilliant and unyielding sun. Indra was a tiefling, and admired the plant's resistance to heat. Then, the merchant indicated the porcupine on Indra's coat. They told him that the cactus was covered in long, sharp spines, much like the porcupine, that offer it protection. At that moment Indra fell in love with the cactus, and from that day on thought of it often.
Seasons passed and Indra's wealth grew even greater, and again he sought a luxury to spend it on. Before he could lighten his pockets, an earthquake rocked his land and damaged his home. He decided to construct a new home rather than repair the old, as a new house could use much of his wealth and prevent the dangers of hoarding from befalling his name. As he had each day, Indra thought of the fascinating cactus plant, and chose to construct his new home from the plant's wood. He spent all the riches he had earned on importing cactus from the Ilkatan desert, and built his house from them.
When the house was complete, Indra invited his family to see it. They said they could not enter for the spines that covered the house, but Indra insisted their patron, the porcupine, would shield their skin from the spines. His wife opened the door, and the cactus spines pierced her hands. She retreated in pain, and their daughter followed her back to the old home to tend her injury. They repaired the damage from the earthquake and continued to live there.
Each day, their daughter Saraswati walked to the cactus house and asked her father to return home with herself and her mother. Each day, Indra insisted on staying in the cactus house. He had spent so much money to build it, and it reminded him of his patron spirit, so he did not want to leave.
When Indra woke up in the cactus house each morning, spines caught in his arms and legs. I am becoming more like a porcupine, he told himself, and he did not pull the spines from his skin. As more and more spines collected across his body he grew more and more sore each day, and had to move more slowly so as not to break off the spines. He could not tend to the land as well for his slow movement and poor rest, and grew very lonely. Each week Indra grew weaker until he had nearly wasted away.
One day Saraswati came to ask Indra to come out of his cactus home to visit her, but he lacked the strength to rise. Saraswati was deeply worried. She wrapped her arms in leather to protect them from the spines and entered into the house. At first she could not find her father, for he was just as covered in spines as the walls of the house. When she finally found him, she carried him from the cactus house. He was light from weakness, yet the task was still difficult for the spines that covered his body.
Saraswati carried him all the way back to the old house, where she and her mother yet lived, and pulled the spines from his skin one by one until he was no longer beset by them. She fed him hearty meals of vegetables and mushrooms and nuts and eggs, and he slowly regained his energy. When Indra was stronger, he spoke to Saraswati, and told her she could not continue to feed him so well, for he had no money to repay her for the ingredients. Saraswati shook her head and told him that he owed her nothing, for they were family, and the ingredients were all inexpensive anyway.
Indra wept, for he had forgotten the value of simple things and simple kindness. He did not return to his cactus house, and the abundant water rotted the desert wood. The house collapsed into the land. Indra hoped the remains of the cactus house would at least fertilize the land. It did do so, but was no more effective than the usual blood and bone meal although it had cost far more.