James A. Hunter
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Shadowcroft Year 3 - Chapter Thirty-One
🕑 Added 2022-11-16 18:00:06 +0000 UTCThe next couple of weeks were… Well, the best, and only way to describe them was sad. The Terrible Twelfth had gone to all four memorials, where they had to watch Wintersylver shed crocodile tears in public and smirk in private. It was so obvious she didn’t care. Marko, by contrast, was as weepy as a newborn. His tears were all too real and he cried every. Single. Time.
He was very dramatic at funerals.
Logan made more of the Blue Divine Philter, in hopes of helping Marko and Treacle get to B-Class, and even Rockheart agreed with the decision. However, the side effects were getting in the way of their plans to lure in Lou Shador. Marko refused to sully the good name of conspiracy theories by concocting one himself.
Still, Logan hadn’t lost all hope. They had a two more months before the Final round, which was both good and bad in different ways. On the one hand, it meant the Terrible Twelfth would have time to prepare and for Logan to rope Marko into his misinformation campaign. One the other hand, it gave Lou Shador the time to get to S-Class, which would mean the certain death of the Terrible Twelfth. Their best bet was to ascend themselves, and like always, Logan had them working overtime.
It was grind-thirty every hour of every day. They didn’t have mindsets, they had grindsets. They didn’t walk on the ground. They walked on the grind.
Marko cleaned bathrooms like a shaolin monk in a Clorox commercial. Inga could’ve immediately taken on half of H&R Block’s clients without even bating an eyelash. Treacle was putting the everlasting in everlasting gobstopper. And Logan twined, every day, all day. He had plans to get “Twine and Grind” tattooed on one of his arms. The new ink would go well with the Miami Vicesweatbands, when went wherever he went.
Even with all that work, they weren’t getting anywhere.
Logan had spent an hour talking with the new cultivation teacher, Darnol Zeggenerschwar, who suggested a strange cultivation technique called AMKAP, or the As Many Knots as Possible technique. It was part of his HIIM routine, or High Intensity Interval Meditations training course. Not to be confused with MOD, or Meditation of the Day. Logan didn’t make the CrossFit comparison because such a culturally specific reference would go over Darnol’s head, plus Logan would have to suffer through more of the bad Austrian accent.
Professor Darnol didn’t know what the Miami Vice sweatbands were, but he liked how they looked. He suggested getting a matching headband, but that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.
Logan took to the AMKAP training like a duck to water.
It was brutal and far more intense than everything he’d learned so far, but that was a feature, not a bug. The goal of Boundless Wheel was to continuously fold tendrils of Apothos into the core, refining it and transforming the core into a flawless marble of pure power. The second technique he’d learned was called Radiant Serpent Under the Glowing Moon, and it had come to him courtesy of Professor Moonbow Rainsap. That one was less about refining the core itself and more about reinforcing both the knot and meridians which circulated throughout his body. They reinforced his eyes and skin, allowed him to manifest weapons, control his minions, and better manipulate a dungeon.
Radiant Serpent Under the Glowing Moon was all about surrendering. About giving up control. About letting the power of the Tree flow through you as a conduit.
And then there was AMKAP, which was a study in opposition. There was no surrender. No yield. It was all about maximum control. About strength through pain. Instead of letting the power cycle in the core then peacefully move outward through the meridians, the goal of AMKAP was to purpose force as much Apothos as possible through the meridians over and over and over again. In theory, such rapid expansion and contraction would force the core to naturally expand and tie additional knot to handle the intense strain.
As a fungaloid, he had an added advantage that no one else did. While connected to a host through his symbiotic bond, he could borrow their energy—or lend his in return. That allowed him to maximize the technique since he had a far larger Apothos pool to draw from.
In essence, AMKAP was muscle failure training for your spirit. It was miserable. Hard. Impossible. But Logan didn’t mind. Logan liked the impossible.
As long as it wasn’t crazy, which is what Inga was doing. She had signed them up to talk with Professor Ahrah-Koonem Gilligan the next day. Now that… That was the definition of crazy. Logan desperately tried to talk her out of it. But no. She was committed. Inga was like a dog on a bone when it came to certain things. Logan dreaded the meeting like he dreaded dental surgery.
They had still had some time to sow some disinformation seeds for the Finals, though it would’ve been better to start right away, while they were still mourning the dungeon cores that Lou Shador killed.
Still, even with Marko’s reluctances, they were gaining ground. Inga had made it her personal mission to find out more about the Scarlet Paradox, and its mysterious caped co-owner, and when Inga made something a mission, nothing stopped her. She also co-opted their Cruelty Incorporated class to help. Professor Kobold might be useless, but his students were on point. Now, instead of watching outdated Devil McClure videos, everyone was digging up every scrape they could find on the ol’ Lou Shador.
Even with the assistance, however, the work was slow going. For being so famous, Lou Shador had done a remarkably good job about concealing his history.
With all that happening, Logan wasn’t feeling so great when he travelled to his Mastering Mushrooms Magic at Nightfall University.
Logan walked by the Melvin statue and paused to reflect as he often did. On most days, he’d apologize for how things turned out. Inga still had the copy of his disturbing cookbook, half recipes, half vows of vengeance. She liked the cover, which was a bejeweled masterpiece, along the lines of Marko’s gaudy coat.
That day, in the depths of winter, Logan couldn’t bring himself to say a word. Instead he just stood there, feeling the weight of the silence press in on him, before finally heading to his classroom.
Professor Rick Nella was already at his podium; he was a tall slender yellow mushroom in a yellow suit. Around him swirled a cloud of black and yellow pollen—that was Lori. Or so it seemed, since Professor Rick often addressed the swirl.
Logan paused at the door. All the fungal oddballs looked at him with sympathy in their eyes. “What?” he asked.
Gary Bernardii, the mustard brown fungal guy with a little cap and big belly, lifted a hand. The mouth set into his palm frowned. “You went to Lorena Quartz’s funeral this past weekend at Saudrian’s. We heard your friend, uh, lost it.”
That would be Marko. He was dramatic at every funeral, but Lorena’s was different. At one point, he’d draped himself over her coffin, weeping like an Italian grandmother, hammering on the lid with a closed fist.
Logan moved into the room and sat down next to Yeez Tee, the Zorro black mushroom with a hat, cap, and tragic backstory. “I’m sorry for your loss. I know about funerals.” He gazed at nothing, his face blank, though his eyes were hazy with distant memory. “Oh yes, I know all about funerals.”
Logan reached out to pat Yeez but thought against it. The Yeez Tee had trouble being touched sometimes.
Instead, Logan patted the air. “Thanks, uh, Yeez. It’s pretty rough.” He then pulled out his big, messy ball of twine and started to grind. Hoping to take his mind off of all the loss over the past several weeks. If the twine was good for anything, it was that. Helping him to stayed focused on the present instead of dwelling on the past or thinking about what terrible things the future might hold.
Trio, the three-headed mushroom monstrosity—Reddie was positive, Blackie was negative, and Pinkie was truly clueless—had a variety of suggestions.
Reddie started things off with a smile. “We’re so glad you didn’t die in the Semi-Finals. We do enjoy you so much, Logan. And we know you might be sad, but you have the Finals to look forward to. That should help you with your grief.”
Blackie sighed. “Give up now, Murray. You’re going to die. We’re all going to die. This whole thing is as pointless as that ball of twine you insist on playing with.”
Pinkie blinked. “Funerals are like weddings for dead people. Cake is involved.”
Amanda Pears, the easily shocked toadstool girl, blinked as her mouth dropped open. “Trio! What a terrible thing to say. Well, two-thirds was terrible, anyway.”
From the back, Pewig Bulge, the gigantic fungal basilisk let out a hiss. “Sorry, Logan. All that death does stink. And not in the good way.”
Gary shook his head. “All them dungeon cores were the best of the best. I guess being C-Class Rank 5 isn’t so bad. Sure, I’ll never get any fancy assignments, but at least no one is going to be gunning for me.”
Logan tried to console him. “You’ll get there, Gary. I’ve had plateaus where I didn’t advance for months at a time. Then, suddenly, I ranked up a bunch. Actually, I’m on a plateau now that I can’t quite seem to get past.”
Yeez Tee sprang to his feet. “You all don’t get it. If those cores could die, we could die. What are we even doing here? I’m leaving!”
He fled from the room in the most dramatic way possible. Logan just prayed Yeez Tee and Marko never ended up in the same place at the same time. No one would survive the ensuing drama cyclone.
Logan had to throw Professor Rick a question. “We only have a couple more months. I’m wondering when the Yeez Tee bonding is going to start.”
“Any day now,” the professor promised.
All of the talk of death had silenced the room. Logan didn’t know what to say.
Professor Rick exhaled loudly. “Okay, Lori, I’ll tell him about you. It’s going to be awkward, like always, but I guess we can take a minute to discuss the meaning of life.”
Logan had to grin. “I’m ready to hear it.”
Professor Rick winced. “It’s sad. I’ll try to get through it without crying. You see, Lori was my wife. Is my wife. Oh, I’m so sorry, baby. You know how I am with verb tenses.”
The black and yellow cloud of spores took on a very disappointed stance.
Logan suddenly got it. “You had a symbiotic bond with her, didn’t you?”
Professor Rick’s eyes filled with tears. “We met here at Nightfall University. Just two crazy kids on their way to glory defending the Tree of Souls. I know, Lori, but I always get emotional.” He took in a deep breath and continued. “She was the cutest Wasp Queen Horror you’ve ever seen. She had such soft fur, so many legs to hold me tight, and such honey-sweet kisses. You had to watch out for her stinger though. That was deadly.” The professor laughed wistfully. “She hates it when I bring up her stinger.”
Professor Rick shook his head. “We graduated, and yes, Logan, we had that symbiotic bond. She… her core… there was a raiding team, who called themselves the Little Rollers. They were dwarves who all had terrible gambling addictions. To pay off their debts, they ran dungeons. They were crap at the craps table, but they knew their way around a raid.
“After losing big one weekend,” he continued softly, “our poor little dungeon ended up on their radar as a quick, easy source of Apothos. They hit us hard and ended up cracking her core. I survived, but I couldn’t let go of her. I cast the best spell of my life to keep her around. Killed the dwarves, by the way, protected the node, but it wasn’t the same without my Lori around. At least in her more physical form. Love you, babe.”
The professor blushed. “She told me she loves me back. She’s such a sweetie.”
“You two are the cutest,” Logan said.
“They are!” Amanda said. “It’s so shocking how cute they are!”
Yeez threw open the door and marched back in. “Okay, Professor Rick, that was a very touching story and all, but what was the point?”
Logan grinned. Yeez hadn’t just stormed off. He’d been outside the door, listening. That was amazing progress.
Professor Rick put a hand to his heart. “Yeez. You came back! Take a seat.”
Yeez’s eyes went back and forth. Then he walked over and sat down. “I’ll sit with you losers a little longer, since I don’t have anything better to do. I’m not all heroic and fancy like some people in the room. And I don’t have a tragic love story. But whatever.”
Professor Rick took his place in front of the podium and half-sat on the desk like all the coolest teachers did when they wanted to have a “rap session” with the next generation of dungeons. “The point is, in some sense, being a fungaloid is living with death. I do it literally since my wife is basically dead, but I think we all have to sit with our own mortality and the mortality of our friends.”
Yeez took off his hat. He was bald as an egg. “Yeah, Professor. That’s me. Logan. Is that you?”
Logan had experienced tragedy. Dead parents will do that to a guy. But he’d always had a close group of friends. He realized he was being pretty unreasonable. For one, Marko was sick, which is why he wasn’t agreeing to their disinformation plan. For another, they had all progressed leaps and bounds. Gary Bernardii was hoping to progress to C-Class Rank 4 in the next couple of years. A lot of the dungeon guardians in that room would kill to get even that high.
“Yeah, that’s me, Yeez,” Logan said. “But you know, when things die, and our spores get to work on them, it brings forth new life. I mean, my digestion pit recycles the basic energies of the universe. It’s only because I’ve had such good training that I’ve come as far as I have.”
Everyone—all those mushroom misfits—were listening to him closely.
Logan chuckled. “It wasn’t just the training. It was also my work ethic. I work hard. But more importantly? I have my friends, and our esprit de corps. We did things together that we couldn’t have done alone.”
“Like the Spore Lords,” Professor Rick said. He held up a hand. “And I don’t mean all those crazy conspiracy theories. Once, long, long ago there were actual Spore Lords. A group of powerful fungaloids who bound together to keep the Tree of Souls safe. There are a lot of legends about them, but that part is true. Very true. If you’re interested, I think I still have a few books. I wanted to cover some of the history in class, but I don’t think I’ll have the time. I get a lot of flack for talking about them at all. There’s a lot of kooks out there.”
Unfortunately, Logan knew the truth of that all too well. He was friends with one of them.
Logan then had a great idea. He’d been stuck in a spiral of self-pity, when really his life was awesome. He’d survived longer than anyone thought possible, advanced further than anyone could imagine, and had defeated forces far outside his weight class. His Uncle Bud had often told him that the best cure when you were feeling blue was to help someone else. Maybe he couldn’t fix everything that was wrong in the universe, but he could help the people sitting around him.
“How about I teach you all the very first technique I mastered at Shadowcroft,” he said. “It’s called the Boundless Wheel and it helped me learn to cycle Apothos and form my first knot.”
No one said anything.
Professor Rick wrinkled his nose. “Sorry, Logan, but some of us have been working on Boundless Wheel for literally our entire lives. We know how to grind just as well as anyone.”
Logan wasn’t sure if he truly understood the ins and outs of the Radiant Serpent Under the Glowing Moon to teach it. However, the AMKAP was pretty simple. That Darnol Zeggenerschwar was a good teacher. But he seemed to do everything really well, like the shirtless guy playing hackie sack after a day of surfing and hanging out with his model girlfriend on Venice Beach. One of those guys.
“How about I show you the technique I’m working on now?” Logan offered.
Gary Bernardii still looked pained. “Does it involve twine or stinky sweatbands?”
Again Professor Rick looked uncomfortable. “Yes, since we’re on the topic of the sweatbands, the administration has requested that you not wear them on campus anymore. I have nothing against them, of course. There’s just been too many complaints. The colors. The smell. Sorry. Your twine isn’t smelling too good either.”
And this was coming from fungi.
Logan threw all of the offending items into his Ring of Pockets. “Gotcha. Gone. They won’t come back. Now, who is ready to cultivate?”
All the hands went into the air. Even Yeez Tee’s.
Logan stood. “Okay, let’s get to work.”
