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 without my Essence. Glad you like the glowing ones though….I feel I should say sorry again for barging into your home like this. If it might be best if I would-” but Mortigus couldn’t finish his sentence before Lut interjected.
“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, it’s a neighbouring country but it’s a bit odd to find you here. Willingly walking deeper into Dokan territory, without even knowing the language.”
“ I am from Meniah”, said Mortigus, though he had trouble remembering the countries he was taught about 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 really didn’t even realise I was in a different country. I really just want to get to a village not far from the city of Bana, back in Meniah.” Mortigus spoke unevenly,
“Back to Meniah country? 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 the 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. Dumb could perhaps describe you better than suspicious at this point.”
“ Excuse me? Did I say something wrong?” replied Mortigus, trying to hide being slightly insulted by Lut’s comment.
“ Do you have a map with you or do you 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 been more likely to reach the Wonder Wall’s edge than to reach 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, as he assessed the situation. 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 said:
“ Disgusting.”
Mortigus was startled, enough to nearly choke on the food, though not a possibility thanks to his new anatomy.
“ A bloodhound ring, I had to make a week-long detour once just to escape the hunters without leading them to my home. That thing even detected me when I was several metres 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 it was necessary.” replied Mortigus, making Lut sigh briefly and turn her head a bit to the left.
“ A bit naive, but understandable. Nonetheless, 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 her statement.
“ You also got a flintlocke and a journal of some sort. Did you try to use any of them?”
“ I tried the ring, but it didn’t react to Essence. Is it tied to the hunter?” theorised Mortigus.
“ Of course human magic and your Essence-stuff wouldn’t work together that easily.”
“ Are they really that different?”
“ 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 ain’t saying that just to be cruel. Are you really safe attempting 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 was with you, but as you are alone, you must realise you are far from ready for what is waiting for you.” warned Lut while tensing up.
“ You may be right, but I don’t see any other options or excuses. Thank you for your concern nonetheless.” responded Mortigus candidly, while preparing to stand up from his chair.
“ Dumb and headstrong, teens really are similar in all species.” scoffed Lut. “ I’ll teach you.”. Mortigus looked visibly confused. “ You should learn how to read maps, maybe even some Dokan, and how to use some of these trinkets you’ve acquired. I am willing to teach you.”
“ Why would you even want to teach me? 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 some help 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 by helping his disciple or kid, or whatever, I am 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 Lut, but an uneasiness ate away at him. Running into a second stranger that turns from potential killer to mentor, it was bizarre. Though his metric for bizarre was off-balance for a long while. 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. But he could perhaps trust her. Based on her words, she was one of the few people that 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 will stay for a few days then, if you’re truly alright with it.“, 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 detect a little better the gestures and mannerisms of creatures with completely non-human 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. 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 patch 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, turkey-tail mushrooms grew from the wall and turned the steep entrance into a ladder. With a touch of gleaming mushrooms, the warehouse turned into a guest room for any bug or mushroom. The two were working together nicely, though tension still remained, neither daring to turn their back to each other. His time with Arbero was not exactly without incident, 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 perhaps. 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, 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 or something…Just, I want to help, you really need everything you can get in order to survive, especially if you are to travel near populated areas.”
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. 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 metres away, masked with mushrooms, akin the one he’d slept in during his first years as a mycolian, after the escape.
The night in his hidden covert was haunted by many unwelcome memories. Feeling lonely was a sentiment Mortigus was used to, or so he thought. Troublesome was the task to remember his past, especially his time in the forest living alone. It was so many years, more than he’d spent as a human, but they felt like an amalgam of nothing, so many tastes and sensations that blend to leave no certain impression, just vague proof of existing. An improperly cleaned jar, a tool with its rust recently removed, a shell masquerading to live. Solitude ate away at his ability to be present in the moment, or he robbed himself through his own decisions. Of course, he still retold a few memories, such as the travellers livening their evenings with roasted meat and stories. However, there was a clear unanswered need behind it all. Arbero and Lut, they 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 hole. Arbero may not have been the exception, but I won’t be hasty.” mustered Mortigus half-asleep.
Other than having a hard time falling asleep, the night went by rather uneventfully, aside from a curious hedgehog almost falling on Mortigus’ face when tumbling through the covert. With the breakfast of prickles dodged, the mycolian rose from his bedding and scanned for Lut. Her presence wasn’t inside the main burrow but several metres 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. Inside her small corner of the forest, Lut hid a garden in full harvest, amazing Mortigus. 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 a few 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! Essence forces growth that cares more for form and target functions, interesting indeed.”
Lut cut off her thought, grasped the pot with two of her left arms, then moved closer to the patch of legumes. Tapping on the side of the pot in a distinct rhythm, Lut brought a faint glow out of the symbols etched in the clay. From within the pot, a weak echo started humming, the sound of a brook shily flowing and swirling in a pond. As she tilted the pot, water began to flow, slowly spreading to each sprout in the whole row, yet no sign of the portable well to be drying up. Lut tilted back the pot and tapped its runes again.
Lut the Mole-Cricket
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