James A. Hunter
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Shadowcroft Year 3 - Chapter Thirty-Six
🕑 Added 2022-12-05 18:00:06 +0000 UTCDealing with Rockheart had become rough, especially for Inga, who still had to report to him because her cultivation task wasn’t complete yet. The audit was killing her. Logan was having flashback of her silverware obsession from the year before. That might have been preferable, all things considered.
Rockheart’s mood was so sour because he had to keep the force fields up in the undercroft. Otherwise, Marko’s eldritch horror cocoon would’ve swamped the library and would’ve filled the Tartarucha Cells. Rockheart finally had to reach out for help, and that made him even worse to deal with. The Rector Prime had to get aid from Zhen Ikgix, the venerable Threshing Turtle.
Logan and his friends treated the ancient turtle with respect. No one else knew that he was actually one of the four celestial ancestors, the Onyx Tortoise of the North, and one of the guardians who helped kill Billy Scales so long ago. However, that wicked dungeoneer had basically horcruxed himself into the dungeons on Arborea before possessing Steve the Mannequin. Anyway, Billy was dead, and Zhen Ikgix didn’t remember much, given the state of his cracked core and his aging mind. But even with all of the damage he’d sustained, he was still amazingly powerful. When he could focus.
Logan, Inga, and Treacle had had such a great time in the Tartarucha Cells, working together, that Logan signed up for all the Saturday nights after that. From nine to midnight, the cells were theirs, and they all had fun mixing and matching their abilities. Candy spiders and mushroom contraptions. Gigantic centipedes covered in candy armor. There was a whole array of minions they tried out. Those training sessions also proved to be invaluable because the rest of their classes we’re just this side of worthless…
Their tournament class had gone from being a sham with a few fringe benefits to complete waste of time. Magmarty and Elesiel didn't even show up anymore. And Professor Suresh obsessively trained the Ninth Circle while ignoring everyone else because he had high hopes that Logan would drop out. Their dungeoneer class was also equally worthless. Professor Kobold had run out of Devil McClure films, and now they were watching Shadowcroft PSA announcements from hundreds of years ago in the past.
Skip Shadowcroft was in several of them, and he looked like a complete hippie in tie-dye tunic, bellbottom jeans, and shiny boots. Around his neck were any number of necklaces. He lectured on the evils of Enrico Kagster’s homemade hooch known as Liverkill.
Still, Logan wasn’t too worried about his classes. He had much larger concerns on his mind, like Lou Shador and the fact that they were still one teammate short.
With every passing day, Marko’s tentacled condition only worsened and there was no sign that he would emerge from the writhing cocoon anytime soon. Logan pondered inviting someone else to join them, Tet-Ahkat for example, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want to bring another lamb into the slaughter. Besides, he and Tet might’ve created the Symbiotic bond the previous year because her core had been damaged, but that didn’t mean she would want to join him again. Tet was a solitary creature, a definite introvert. She was far more aloof cat than friendly puppy dog.
There was something else to consider—Weavelord had agreed to let the Terrible Twelfth compete together and not just any random assortment of dungeons. It would be a tough sell to the judges to bring in Tet or anyone else.
And so, Logan and his friends trained relentlessly in preparation for the Finals. They also started spreading rumors about the Finals, in hopes of drawing Lou Shador and his Glow Brigade to them. To do that, they really needed Marko, since he was so connected into the conspiracy theory underworld of the Ashvattha multiverse. Not even Inga could figure out how to contact Emerick Warning Bellsman. But she was finding some good stuff on Lou Shador. The going was slow, though, because the dungeoneer was a man who kept a great many secrets.
Logan even recruited the misfit mushrooms in information gathering. He warned them not to take any chances, but if they heard anything, they should let him know. In return, Logan brewed up some Blue Divine Philter for the C-Class cores. He also provided them with Lojjikki Lotion to stop the side effects.
It was a good thing he did. Professor Rick came dangerously close to falling into the unforgiving abyss of stamp collecting. Gary Bernardii had started bringing embroidery to their classes. Amanda Pears had become unbearably political. Until they applied the magical lotion. Then they mellowed out.
Logan was still having trouble getting them to cultivate properly. Then again, the AMKAP had some certain little tricks to it. He thought about going back to Boundless Wheel, but no… changing up techniques at this point would only confuse them.
Logan also had a little task for Professor Rick. As an adjunct professor, Rick wasn’t exactly at the epicenter of power at Nightfall University, but the guy did have a handful of useful contacts. Logan told Professor Rick to start the trash talk. Lou Shador and his Glow Brigade were afraid of Logan Murray and the Terrible Twelfth. It was why he didn’t attack them during the Semi-Finals.
Logan figured that Wintersylver would pass along all the rumors and bragging back to Lou Shador. Good. That was part of the plan. Logan wanted Lou Shador seeing red when the Finals came.
Logan had a plan to make two dungeons—a fake one to make the evil dungeoneer overconfident, and a real one, to kill him and his crew. Logan didn’t know if they’d have enough Apothos for his plan, but it was the best chance they had, assuming they could pull it off.
***
Three Saturdays after Treacle’s emergence, Logan and his friends left the Tartarucha Cells at midnight. Zhen Ikgix didn’t tell them who had reserved the practice dungeon for the early hours of a Sunday morning. Logan was curious, but he was too tired to stick around for the dungeon guardian to show up.
He, Inga, and Treacle were on their way to the steps when they saw that Rockheart’s force barrier had failed. The tentacles didn’t lash out, though. Most had retreated to the bathroom entrance, where there was a literal wall of thick oily coils, eyeballs, teeth, along with some disturbingly pink tongues licking at the air, as though tasting it.
“Zhen!” Logan called. “The barrier is down!”
Treacle was back to chewing his cud. His mouth worked furiously.
“Zhen!” Logan shouted again, frantic.
The old turtle dude didn’t answer him.
“Wait,” Inga whispered. “Look.”
From out of the tangles of tentacles, one of Marko’s hands emerged. His wrist was covered in dark ichor, which slicked the fur, but it looked like his normal hands all right. And there was the sleeve of his janitorial jumpsuit, but this was dry as a bone. Then, the material changed, going from janitorial gray to a black-and-white long-sleeved shirt. Was he changing outfits mid-ascension?
Logan didn’t know what to make of it.
Zhen Ikgix shuffled forward, a giant stooped turtle man. He was twelve-feet tall when unstooped, which was rare. He mostly stooped. The cracks in the onyx gem embedded in his belly were clearly visible, and sparked every once in a while.
The turtle stroked thoughtfully at his wrinkled chin. “Interesting. I’ve never seen a stranger ascension cocoon. There are a great many tentacles. Is that the lad’s arm?” he wheezed.
Inga was wringing all four of her hands. “It is Marko’s arm. I do not know if we should help pull him out or not. Why stripes? What kind of horror will we face when he emerges? The suspense is killing me!”
Logan wasn’t going to wait. He started walking forward. “Marko, buddy, we’re coming for you.”
“No need,” Came Marko’s reply, his voice mellow and at peace. The cocoon split with a loud rip and Marko walked out of the tentacles, and in a flash, the massive horror that had plagued the undercroft for weeks went slurping right back into pockets of his tight fighting black pants.
Logan had expected Marko to completely Cthulhu out—enormous squid head, multiple appendages, face tentacles, and maybe even some scaly wings. But no. It was just Marko, wearing snug black pants, a black-and-white shirt, and red suspenders. Atop his head was a jaunty, black French beret. The satyr’s fur was slick with slime, but the mime clothes were perfectly dry and perfectly clean. Marko’s goatish face had a thick layer of white face and black slathered on. A red handkerchief was tied around his neck. He was looking mime-a-licious.
The satyr put up his hands. “I know, the transformation is shocking. I have completely changed, in every way possible. The old Marko Laskarelis is dead. Long live Marko Laskarelis!” He raised his fists in triumph.
Treacle swallowed his cud noisily. “He looks exactly the same.” He glanced at Logan and cocked his head to the side. “Doesn’t he look the same? Or am I just going crazy?”
Logan wasn’t sure. He stepped forward and touched the wet fur on Marko’s hand. “We were worried. Are you basically the same?”
“Am I the same?” the satyr rolled his weird goat eyes. “Uh, I don’t think so. Behold! My jaunty beret!”
He touched his cap.
“Is the mime makeup permanent?” Treacle asked in a sullen voice. “I don’t think I can live with the mime makeup.”
Marko shook his head. “Naw, it’s just part of the aesthetic but I can take it off whenever. Putting it back on is a real pain—that was part of what took me so long. I wanted my big reveal to be epic, so I took extra time to get the texture just right.” He raised a hand, and chef kissed the air. “Looks great, but it was exhausting. Honestly, I need a shower and some shuteye. It’s been a long night.”
Logan drew him out farther from the bathroom. “Dude, it’s been over a month. Do you notice any changes?”
Marko gave the venerable Threshing Turtle a long look. “Has Shellex Aldabra joined the Terrible Twelfth? Did you replace me?”
“No, that’s Professor Zhen Ikgix,” Treacle said. “I really thought you would notice.”
“Zhen, buddy!” Marko went over to bump fists with the old turtle man. “Don’t worry, pal. Your secret is safe with me.”
The professor looked a bit troubled. “I’m going back to my room. Congratulations on your ascension. I’m sure you’ll have an… interesting career.”
“Way ahead of you, bro.” Marko spun and then grabbed Logan, Inga, and Treacle. “Guys! Marko is back and better than ever before. Let me shower. We can get some hot cocoa, then I can dish on all my new abilities. That Blue Divine Philter kicked my skills into overdrive. I kinda chose a bunch of things, but then, a bunch of things were chosen for me.”
Marko backed off. “Before I shower, I’d like to just tidy up the undercroft bathroom. Just real quick. The eldritch horrors left the second stall a complete disaster.” He spun and nearly ran back into the bathroom.
Zhen Ikgix had left, so Logan, Inga, and Treacle were all standing in the undercroft alone.
They were stunned into silence until Tet-Ahkat came walking down the stairs. She stood there, brow furrowed. “Where’s Marko’s tentacles. And why do you look so confused?”
Inga pointed. “He emerged. He’s B-Class now. But… Well, to be honest, we’re a bit baffled.”
Tet’s brow wasn’t going to come unfurrowed any time soon. “So he’s a brand-new Azure Branch cultivator, and he’s still cleaning the bathroom? Do you know what his new skills are? And what does his new guardian form look like?”
“He looks the same,” Treacle said. “Exactly the same. Other than his wardrobe.”
“I heard that!” Marko’s voice came echoing out of the bathroom. “And Treacle, why are you pink all of a sudden? And did you know your horns and hooves like a Forevergreen festival candy curl?”
“Candy cane,” Logan corrected.
“I’m kind of a cane expert,” Marko replied. “I think I know what a cane looks like. Keep your weird Urothling stuff to yourself. Almost done in here!”
“I’ll let you all have your privacy,” Tet said. She started to walk toward the doors of the Tartarucha Cells. She turned. “Do you want to join me in the dungeon simulator? I’ve been becoming more nocturnal, so I’ve been signing up in the midnight slot. You can join me if you want.” She paused. “But I don’t believe I want to symbiotically bond with you at this juncture. Things have… changed since last year.”
“We totally understand,” Logan said.
Marko came pushing his cart out of the bathroom, one wheel squeaking as it rolled across the floor. He was still in his mime costume and the mime makeup, complete with the little black triangles under his eyes. “I’m ready to unveil my ultimate powers which have been heavily influenced by my clown college experience. Nick Nicklewise is going to be blown away. I’m next level, baby. Totally next level.”
Tet squinted and looked doubtful. “Come. I want to witness these supposed powers.”
“Cat girl says what?” Marko asked.
Logan went over and grabbed his friend’s arm. “We’re going to witness firsthand your B-B-Class powers.”
Marko’s face lit up. “You guys are in for a treat. Prepare to be blown away!”
