Warning: Mentions of blood, injuries and pain in a slighlty explicit way , nothing outside of the fantasy-violence label
“I don’t know if it’s my place to talk, but I do not think Rhit would regret their decision. Please trust in their judgement: they saw you and your state and decided to go against the Doctors, their fellow colleagues, because that’s what felt right to Rhit. Yes, your liberty is earned through Rhit’s sacrifice, but do not feel guilt, specifically because Rhit would not want you to.”
“ I-.. that’s not..”, Mortigus stumbled over his words, panting slightly and his body shaking with nerves. “ I’m unsure if I wanna accept that. I somehow spent years in the forest, just me and my thoughts, or rather just me. Somehow I managed to move each day without thinking, barely acknowledging my situation beyond my hunger and thirst. I survived for the sake of surviving. The only times my mind wasn’t forced onto a blank state was on the nights I stalked travellers and eavesdropped on their stories. And those stories pointed to a blurry future, taking my eyes away from everything I left back. I ran away in every sense of the word.”
“ There is no blame for running in your case, at least that’s how I see it.”, Arbero interfered, as Mortigus' voice grew closer and closer to crying of guilt. Neither said a word for a while, Arbero questioning what else they could say. Mortigus seemed to have hit his limit as well.
“ This may have been too heavy to discuss so soon after meeting each other. I am sorry for pushing this so far, I think we should move onto something else.“ said Arbero while gesturing with their legs. Mortigus showed no response for a few seconds, after which he quietly rose up and started looking around.
“ I think I will stop here for tonight, if you don’t mind. Seems like food and shelter would be easy to prepare for the both of us. I’d prefer to forage around for a bit.” said Mortigus in a monotone voice.
“ Of course… I’d be happy to host you, I have a small house very near, and as food goes, we don’t need to gather tonight, I have reserves.” responded Arbero as delicately as they could, but after quickly reconsidering Mortigus’ attitude, they added:” You can still go ahead and forage if you want though, I won’t stop you from doing what you want.”
With Arbero leading the way, the two headed to the small house, passing just a few trees before a bulky silhouette became more and more visible. Spilling out of the intertwined trunks of bulky maple trees, concave pillars of mushroom fruit were merged into a giant structure, rivalling a one-story house. Oyster mushrooms taller than any human, and even taller than Arbero, held small cuts in their fibres, almost rotund in nature. The trees in their rigidness were being pushed apart vigorously by the mushrooms in their stubborness to make room between them. Lines softly ran down from the top to the base of the mushrooms’ stems. Light gently let red rays through the maple leaves, caressing the soft roof of the hut, filmy shadows falling onto the fungi walls. Small spore particles fuzzied the air like melting snowflakes, while Mortigus started to pick up a lingering aroma of dirty sap and another hint of familiarity. A smell that he could only compare to his own “hut” back in the neighbouring forest. This smell lingered throughout the forest, but less flagrantly. Perhaps Arbero’s influence on these woods ran to its deepest parts, a stronger influence than the one left by Mortigus. Arbero did mention his age at some point, but “a thousand years” were hard to conceptualise for Mortigus. The number seemed ethereal to him, hard to attribute to anything, let alone the age of a living thing.
With his mind running about, Mortigus almost bumped into his host, who stopped for a second in the front of their home, before raising one of their legs. The mushroom textures ripped apart from the centre, forming a door of a size fit of the imposing Arbero, who casually stepped forward inside the damp mushroom house. Enticed by the familiar otherworldly atmosphere, Mortigus followed Arbero inside, almost feeling the house breathing, responding to Arbero’s arrival. To some extent, the life in these walls was more than palpable, yet Mortigus didn’t seem to question it before when he created and used mushrooms for his own shelter. It was an experience he didn’t question back in the day, of sharing his senses with his environment as if wearing the house over his own skin, layers created by his body twisting into a toughened shelter. It was visible that Arbero created this place in a similar manner to Mortigus, their steps making the house surge with white noise. It was perhaps a normal thing in the Mycolian culture to live in such visceral constructions, to be one with their environment, in the most literal sense. Mortigus felt a bit of comfort in that notion, already losing a bit of his awkwardness around Arbero, perhaps his weirdness just couldn’t bother his mind as hard thanks to their presence. Mortigus lived alone for so long, it was truly a miracle that he could suppress his solitude and even his first contact in years turned out to be someone he could hopefully connect to. He knew he should be more suspicious of a stranger, but Mortigus wanted to entertain for longer Arbero’s potential, this chance at belonging and relating.
“I have a spare room, it should work nicely as a guest room”, blurted out Arbero, attempting a lower voice of a hospitable host, “ You can leave your belongings in there too. If you do not mind, I’d like to accompany you in foraging.”
Mortigus was reluctant at first but agreed to Arbero’s company. The two reached a room in the back of the ground floor. The grassy terrain of the floor was visibly untouched. The lump of mushroom flesh in the shape of a crudely designed bed also seemed barely out of shape. Mortigus couldn’t complain about the size, despite being barely any bigger than the Plague Doctor’s cell. The size did not matter though, and even the comfort of a mushroom bed didn’t matter, Mortigus simply felt detached, slightly pushed away by the room. After all, he couldn’t sincerely put his trust into any place not made by himself. For a night he could try to push against his instincts, even if it meant sleeping with an eye open. After leaving behind his few travel reserves, Mortigus headed out with Arbero into the woods, Mortigus asking about what trees and plants were growing nearby, the nearest water source and other questions relating to the resources in Arbero’s forest. While the communication was rather clumsy between the two, given Mortigus used a frightening amount of regional terms or outright original names for the ingredients he was accustomed to, Arbero was making a clear effort to understand him.
As Mortigus was picking some wild potatoes from a sunny spot of the forest, Arbero seemed to suddenly stop and simply observed him.
“ I don’t really appreciate an audience that doesn’t offer any help.” snapped Mortigus.
“ Oh, sorry, but something caught my eye.”, responded Arbero in their usual calm voice. “ I wanted to come with you for a very good reason: not just to see what diet you have created for yourself, but also what skills you have. No out of ill will, but out of concern. I wanted to see what you understand about your Mycolian body.” Arbero got closer to Mortigus, slouching a little bit.
“ Have you ever <connected> to the mycelium? To the network in the soil?”
“ I don’t …really understand what you’re talking about. I do touch the ground to raise mushrooms. “, answered Mortigus, puzzled.
“ That’s not the full extent of our powers. The mycelium is, to put it simply, the network between the true bodies of the mushrooms, which are all underground and present in any forest. Usually Mycolians are taught this at a very young age, before their full metamorphosis even. “
” I vaguely understand what you’re saying.”, said Mortigus, though he struggled to piece together the stranger’s words.
“ Do not worry, you have time later to understand the theory. Now, just follow my lead.” Mortigus nodded. Arbero proceeded to raise one of his legs before planting it into the ground firmly. Mortigus followed along with his hand.
“ When you create mushrooms, you use your Essence to produce spores that grow rapidly thanks to your Essence. Though I fear I never asked if you knew what Essence was. For this explanation, I’ll simplify Essence to just the energy you feel gets activated in your body whenever you actively want to grow mushrooms.”
Mortigus nodded his head from side to side, signalling he somewhat understood this concept of Essence. After all, he practised using his Essence ever since the bear attack, but now he had a definition and name for it beyond ‘magic’.
“ Good then, so going back into it, Essence is an energy that can be controlled and fine tuned, and can be pushed into mushrooms to imbue them with Essence. But to connect to the mycelium net, you must take a gentler approach with how you push your Essence. Try imagining your Essence pulsating like little ripples in a pond. Maybe try to think of your palm as the centre from which you push these waves into the ground.” Mortigus tilted his head, but did as he was told.
“ I am doing it, from what I can tell. It’s like pretending I’m a vegetable digging into the ground? I think I sense some other waves too, is that you?”
“ Correct! Mycolians can identify each other by these waves, since they’re like a signature. But it’s not that helpful if you can just feel them by proximity. Try feeling for what feels like thin tangled roots.” Arbero attempted to add leg gestures to explain the sensation of going dipper.
“ Thin roots… I feel a faint signal. Quite different from the sensation of forcing mushrooms to grow fruit. It feels like trying to catch insects in the dark, or rather worms I guess.”
“You’re getting close, you are progressing well. Try to make that connection, the mycelium will accept you with no pushback.”assured Arbero.
Mortigus continued staring at the ground as he pressed his palm into the soil. His fingers acted like pillars that, despite not growing a single inch, seemed to reach into the bellows of the earth. He finally grasped a thread with his Essence. Successive bursts of sensations fell like water droplets into Mortigus’ mind straight through his connected arm. The scrambled voice of the ground was trying to reach him, whispering in a raspy voice the signs of life around him. Suddenly a peculiar burst hit him with a high intensity.
” I think I can feel it, finally. Like my hand and mind are strapped to the ground and everything in it. And I think I sensed something similar to your waves from earlier.” Arberos' eyes lightened up before closing in an expression similar to a mouthless smile.
” Ah, indeed you recognized my signal! You may not fully understand it yet, but this is an amazing start. Environmental awareness is a Mycolian's strength in this world. This is part of my end of our agreement, but it is now also my wish: for you to better understand your abilities in this new body. You've clearly decided to travel away from these woods, and for your safety, it is vital to learn more about Essence and its uses. You were rather lucky to run into me first of all things. "
"You were pretty close to crushing me, though." retorted Mortigus jokingly.
"That is true." chuckled Arbero." But if we forget about first impressions, I will be more than happy to train you into our ways as Mycolians. And for that I'd ask you to remain here longer."
" I… spent so much time away from home, could I really afford to stay here for more than a day?" responded Mortigus, his words coming out slower as he tried to balance his options.
"I believe it would be safer to remain a bit longer, so that you can learn from me. It would certainly help later in your life. If your life span is similar to a Mycolian's, you do have a lot of years ahead of you. And you are also at the risk of any humans to react violently at you. I know that all too well."
Mortigus focused on Arbero's face, becoming more and more capable at reading their mannerisms, and could feel their sincere concern.
" I still have to see my family…that's the whole reason why I want to leave this place. Again, I've wasted away not just my years, I've left them to mourn and question if I'm still alive for too long. A day or two may seem too little in comparison to several years, but I cannot bear them now that I'm actively thinking about it." said Mortigus, barely keeping his tone consistent.
" It is your decision, I won't stop you. I can partially understand how you feel. My recommendations stand though, you need to be better prepared. In your current state, you could get…” but Arbero couldn’t finish their sentence, as if a knot manifested in their throat. A few seconds of silence fell between the two mycolians.
“ You mentioned human hunters before…You’ve remained in this forest for quite a while judging by your home” affirmed Mortigus steadily. “ The dangers you speak of, you’ve certainly experienced them personally. It would be the safer way to listen to you.” Mortigus left a gap in his speech, his words stumbling in his brain, while Arbero was standing stiff, listening carefully to Mortigus’ reasoning, or perhaps still fixated on the sentence they didn’t manage to finish.
“ I’m going to remain here for a week. I think that is a reasonable amount of time. Do you think you’d manage to teach me the bare minimum in that amount of time?”
“ That’s a short period, you may be a fast learner but i don’t know. But I shouldn’t complain, it’s far better than if you were to leave tomorrow morning. I’ll have to be a hell of a teacher though…After all this time…” Arbero responded, his voice quickly abandoning the jovial tone they attempted.
“ We agreed upon it then, right?” Mortigus raised his hand a bit, moving towards Arbero.
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