Warning: Mentions of blood, injuries and pain in a slighlty explicit way , nothing outside of the fantasy-violence label

"Yeah, those mushrooms were made by me, they usually disappear on their own after a few days. Glad you like the glowing ones, though. Sorry for barging into your home like this. It might be best if I just—” but Lut cut him off before he could finish.

  “You can’t leave yet, if that’s what you were thinking. I’d rather clarify a few more things.“ Lut regained a serious tone, watching Mortigus closely. She moved her claw and twisted it, pointing to the room’s entrance, which slowly began to close, buried in mud, leaving only a slight window for light and air to pass through.

  "You speak Meniahan, a neighbouring country, but very few outsiders pass through these parts. Willingly walking deeper into Dokan territory, without even knowing the language.“

  "I’m indeed from Meniah," said Mortigus, though he had trouble remembering the countries he was taught in his childhood. Lut seemed unamused by Mortigus’ response as she continued her interrogation. 

 "So, where are you headed then? Bit odd for a non-human to take a detour through this place; bit dangerous too, of course. Were you disoriented after the incident with the hunter? “ 

  “I’ve been running away for a good few days; I didn’t even realise I was in a different country. I just want to get to a village not far from the city of Bana, back in Meniah.“ Mortigus spoke unevenly. 

 “Back in Meniah? Are you sure?“ Lut squinted its eyes, her three pairs of legs tensing up. Mortigus nodded his head firmly, despite feeling Lut’s unease. 

  "Show me on a map," demanded Lut. 

  "I could try. Do you have a map around here?“ asked Mortigus.

  "Yeah, though it would be a bit dusty—wait a minute. At this point, calling you dumb might fit better than dubious."

  "Excuse me? Did I say something wrong?“ replied Mortigus, trying to hide feeling slightly insulted by Lut’s comment.

  "Do you have a map with you or not? Don’t tell me you’ve walked miles with no clear directions or plan.“

  “I didn’t exactly have a lot of say in the matter, but yeah, I got no map on me, besides the notes I stole from the hunter, not that I was able to decipher them.“ 

  “If you blindly kept moving in the same direction, you would have sooner reached the Wonder Wall’s edge than Meniah,“ noted Lut, perplexed. Her posture became a bit more relaxed. “It’s just conjecture on my part, but you seem rather young.“

  “For a mycolian, I probably am," said Mortigus, accompanied by a short nervous chuckle. 

  Lowering her guard, with a slight glimmer in her eye, Lut collapsed the mud barrier blocking the door. Her stare began to change, losing its roughness. 

  "You hungry?“ asked Lut.

  Mortigus was surprised for a few seconds by the offer. He nodded softly, and Lut moved closer to the table. She picked up some of Mortigus’ rations, quickly inspected them, and threw a portion into Mortigus’ hands. She then gestured with her antenna, inviting him to eat. She grasped a couple of roots and bit into them, and Mortigus followed suit. Lut’s eyes were quickly darting between her guest and the items on the table. After a couple of minutes of awkward eating, Lut uttered, “Disgusting.“ 

  Mortigus was startled, nearly reacting as if to choke on his food—though his new anatomy made that impossible.

  "A bloodhound ring, once I had to make a week-long detour just to escape the hunters without leading them to my home. That thing even detected me when I was several meters buried into the ground. Glad there’s one more empty hunter hand now,“ ranted Lut, side-eyeing the ring and the gun with a displeased look. Lut then turned her gaze to Mortigus. 

  “Did you kill the hunter?“ asked Lut.
  "No, it didn’t feel like necessary,“ replied Mortigus reluctantly, making Lut sigh briefly and turn her head a bit to the left.

  "A bit naive, but understandable. Though, never forget, when you find yourself in a moment where killing is the only option, you shouldn’t hesitate. In the eyes of most hunters, our deaths are necessary; no questions asked,“ affirmed Lut. Mortigus did not follow up on her statement. 

  "You also got a flintlock and a journal of some sort. Did you try to use any of them?“ 

  “I tried, but they didn’t react to Essence. Is it tied to the hunter?“ theorised Mortigus.

  “Of course human magic and your Essence-thingy wouldn’t work together that easily.“

  “Are they really that different?“ asked Mortigus, puzzled.

   "You haven’t been taught all that much,“ remarked Lut, resting her head on her left claw. "You've been going in the wrong direction for a while. And you seem rather clueless; I'm not saying all this just to be cruel. Are you really safe aiming to travel alone like this?“

  "I wouldn’t expect to be safe. But that’s not that important to me.“

  "Make it important to you. Another reckless non-human wandering around; at least if Arbero or someone else was with you, but as you are alone, you must realise you are far from ready for what is waiting for you. Getting found and drawing attention to this area isn’t ideal for me either,“ warned Lut while tensing up.

  "You may be right, but I don’t see any other options or excuses. Thank you for your concern,“ responded Mortigus candidly while preparing to stand up from his chair.
  "Dumb and headstrong, teens really are the same in all species,“ scoffed Lut. "I'll find you a teacher.“ Mortigus looked visibly confused. "You should learn a bit more about the world, maybe even some Dokan, and how to use these trinkets you’ve acquired. I can help a little.“

  "Why would you even want to help? I appreciate your kindness, but this offer seems really sudden,“ said Mortigus, while in his head noticing an odd pattern with most of his encounters since his transformation. 

  "I just decided to. Moreover, I might need a hand around here. You could sleep in a separate tunnel; what do you say?“ offered Lut.  Mortigus stared at the bipedal bug for a few seconds, then his eyes started darting around the room. His mind was conflicted, his instincts disoriented.

  "Sorry, feels like too out of the blue, right? I’ll be more clear then: Arbero helped my family and others quite a bit. And if I can repay that debt by aiding his disciple, kid, or whatever, I’m willing to do it. Non-humans have become rather apathetic to each other in the last centuries, and that won’t do anything but hinder our survival. So, yeah, my offer is genuine. You can try to evade hunters the best you can until you stumble your way home, or you can learn a few things from me.“

 Mortigus remained stunned for a second. He could feel the genuine tone of the insect, but an uneasiness ate away at him. Encountering a second stranger who shifted from potential killer to mentor was bizarre. Though his metric for bizarre had been off-balance for a long time now. Being perceived as a teen seems to have lowered Lut’s guard. He couldn’t view any ulterior motives for her behaviour, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any. Based on her words, she was one of the few people who understood him. And without Arbero, Mortigus was yet again probing in the dark of the world, with only the dim candle gifted by them. Lut was waiting patiently for an answer while finishing her portion of food. 

  "I’ll listen to your advice then," Mortigus answered ultimately. “Guess I’ll rely on your and Arbero’s kindness. “

 Lut’s mandibles made a gesture akin to smiling, and her eyes flickered slightly. Living with Arbero helped Mortigus read a little better the gestures and mannerisms of creatures with completely nonhuman faces. Not that Mortigus would be any easier to read with his skull-like face, singular eye, and lack of eyebrows or cheeks. “It’s probably more impressive how others manage to understand me and not the other way around,“ pondered Mortigus while waiting for Lut to finish eating. After a few more questions, Mortigus familiarised Lut with the ordeal in Arbero’s forest and the exhausting journey that followed. He withheld parts of his story, his origins with the Plague Doctors—to avoid suspicions—and the surreal visions of the brick tower—writing them off as hallucinations, just to keep his grip on sanity. She attentively listened to the mycolian, letting her body relax little by little. With the meal and the story finished, the two threw a few glances at the hunting tools before finally leaving the underground kitchen.

  As Lut guided the mycolian outside through an intact tunnel, Mortigus made a clear image of the parts of the main burrow’s tunnels. Once outside, Mortigus checked the ground again, confirming to Lut the absence of any humans nearby. Then, Lut led the path to a close spot of displaced dirt, hiding an unused warehouse with a steep entrance and no direct connection to the main burrow, at least as far as Mortigus could tell. Lut showcased her earth-bending magic again, morphing the burrow into a more accommodating area with the best furniture soil could make. Mortigus aided using mycelium to fortify the soil. With a few sparks of Essence, turkeytail mushrooms grew from the wall and turned the steep entrance into a ladder. The two began setting up the room, though the tension lingered, neither daring to turn their backs on each other. His time with Arbero was not exactly without incident after all; it was normal to be cautious; that’s how Mortigus justified himself at least. A familiar experience was unfolding for Mortigus, another situation that was disarmed too quickly. Some deep instincts were telling him to keep his guard up—a survivor’s pessimism. Their conversation remained brief, shaped by the cautious reserve of two strangers newly acquainted. With a final touch of gleaming mushrooms, the warehouse turned into a guest room for any bug or mushroom. Lut sluggishly climbed the ladder made by Mortigus, with a bit of difficulty as her claws sank a bit too deep into the steps. Mortigus followed and thanked Lut for everything. The mole-cricket looked at him and glanced at the whole surrounding of the hill, as if looking for the right words:

  "I'd be asking a lot from both of us to trust each other from the start, but let’s think of each other as neighbours for the moment, ok? Mortigus was your name, right? You can leave whenever you want; if you disappear in the morning, there won’t be any consequences, not like I could impose any. I only want to help—you’ll need every edge you can get, especially if you’re going anywhere near where humans live.”

  Lut’s genuine words melted a part of the heart, or rather orb, in Mortigus’ chest, but he could only muster a few words of gratitude, promising to give coexistence a try, at least for a few days. They wished each other a good night, going to their respective burrows. Mortigus kept his right hand deep into the soil, concentrating on every little step he could distinguish around him. Thankfully, it was only Lut’s presence around as she travelled through her burrow. He couldn’t tell if she was doing anything suspicious, but she was certainly deep within her tunnel. Lut’s ground control was an impressive ability, probably capable of trapping Mortigus deep beneath the surface if she wanted it. A scary thought, scarier than even the possibility of her being able to use the flintlocke. Nonetheless, if she wished to get rid of Mortigus, she could’ve done it many times already. Not letting himself fall into a false sense of security, Mortigus formed a covert a few meters away, masked with mushrooms, akin to the one he’d slept in during his first years as a mycolian, after the escape. This hidden refuge proved an unfortunate choice, plaguing his night with an unwelcome nostalgia. Loneliness had long been a shadow in his mind, a constant he had come to accept—or so he believed. Recalling his past, especially those solitary years in the forest, proved difficult. He had spent more time there than he ever had as a human, yet those years seemed like an indistinct blur, a patchwork of fleeting tastes and sensations that left no clear impression, only vague evidence of his existence. An improperly cleaned jar, a tool with its rust recently removed, a shell masquerading as a living snail. Solitude ate away at his ability to be present in the moment, or he robbed himself through his own decisions. However, there was a clear unanswered need behind it all. Arbero and Lut seemed unstable one moment, calm another, maybe desperate too. A desperation to find companionship in the face of years of fearing standing out for even a second. "We share the same boat, or rather the same burrow. The world may still have something for us, but behind all its rules and people I don’t understand. Be they exceptions or not, I won’t be hasty in trusting them,“ mustered Mortigus half-asleep. 

 Apart from struggling to fall asleep, the night passed uneventfully, save for a curious hedgehog nearly falling onto Mortigus' face while tumbling through the covert. With a breakfast of prickles dodged, the mycolian rose from his bedding and scanned for Lut. Her presence wasn’t inside the main burrow but several meters away above ground, and an idea crossed Mortigus. This was an opportunity to take away the hunter’s items to quell his unease, but if he were to be caught in the act, the situation would surely go downhill. The balance of risks tilted slowly in his head, but ultimately, he decided to at least feign trust for a little longer. Walking towards Lut’s location, tall stalks of plants such as peas and tomatoes and the crowns of trees bearing stone fruits all rose into view. To Mortigus’ amazement, inside her small corner of the forest, Lut hid a garden in full harvest. Between the well-maintained bushes of berries and the outer lanes of legume plantations, the sheen of a groovy shell reminiscent of polished ebony and the colourful kerchief caught Mortigus’ attention. It was Lut, diligently removing weeds. She suddenly turned her head towards her visitor and greeted him:

  "Morning, Mortigus. Glad to see you’re also an early bird. Could you help and bring the water pot I left near the tomatoes?“

  Mortigus gave a half-mouthed answer, processing the request a second late and fidgeting to look for the pot.

  “What do ya think of the garden?“ 

  "It's impressive to say the least," affirmed Mortigus, now walking with the half-full water pot back to Lut.
  "Appreciate the compliment!" spoke Lut. “Hope you don’t mind helping me with this. I assume mycolians don’t usually tend to gardens when they can make food so easily. Oh, leave the pot to the right.“ 

   “I wouldn’t say it’s easy, “ retorted Mortigus while putting the pot down, “The mushrooms I affect with Essence tend to lack most of their taste and nutrients, especially if grown from just spores.“ 

  "Ooo, that is intriguing! I should’ve guessed looking at your provisions. Essence forces growth that cares more for form and function; interesting indeed.“

 Lut the Mole-Cricket