James A. Hunter
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Shadowcroft Year 3 - Chapter Thirty-Eight
🕑 Added 2022-12-12 18:00:05 +0000 UTCThe next couple of weeks flew by.
Marko dove back into the world of the conspiracy theories. He called Emerick Warning Bellsman every day, using his Ventriloquist ability to disguise his voice. He had as many personalities as a team of Russian bots.
One of his personalities hammered home how weak Logan and the Terrible Twelfth were. And how weak fungaloids were in general. He expounded at great length about how shameful it was that a fungaloid had even made it this far into the completion and told anyone who would listen that Logan would be easy pickings in the Finals. Marko also emphasized the antics of a certain goat man—definitely the weakest link in the chain. There were even rumors that the fool satyr had spent his third year going to clown school.
At the same time, Marko could then argue the opposite—Logan and the Terrible Twelfth were incredibly powerful, and that Lou Shador would get a ton of Apothos if he attacked them first.
Sometimes, Marko over emphasized that he and Treacle had ascended to Azure Branch cultivators. Sometimes, he said that their ascension was just a rumor, and that both were weak C-Class. That was the nice thing about the conspiracy theories, you could say both things were true at the same time, so no one knew what to believe. So they ended up believing everything. Or nothing. Or landing on something that was close to the middle but also completely wrong.
At the same time, Inga started filing false dungeon plans with the auditing agency, weak dungeon schematics for the Finals that seemed ridiculous. Her dungeons were kind of a bad version of the Winchester Mystery House—stairwells that went nowhere, obvious traps, and a barely defended inner sanctum.
The Finalists didn’t have to turn in their plans. Wintersylver sure wasn’t. However, Inga knew that those plans would find their way to Lou Shador eventually. She also said, “If doing a tax audit for five hundred years of back taxes has taught me anything, it’s that the truth is very flexible and there’s a fine line between telling a lie and claiming a deduction.”
Logan had run his own business. He knew all about gray areas.
They had a few weeks before the end of the schoolyear exams and the Finals of the intraschool tournament. Neither Logan nor Wintersylver knew where they would be building their dungeons—there was a two-week window as the tournament judges waited for new celestial nodes to bloom. Then, it would be matter of the dungeons luring in raiders.
Logan didn’t think that would be a problem since they were doing so much trolling already. And it wasn’t like Lou Shador and his Glow Brigade would go after Wintersylver, not when she was probably the one supplying them information in the first place.
Logan did, however, have two concerns. One was Inga. The poor moth woman was working herself to death with the audit. There were critical pieces of documentation she hadn’t been able to find, and she was burning the midnight oil in a desperate attempt to locate them. She was more frazzled than he ever seen before, and he had absolutely no idea how to help her. Not even her obsession with the perfect table setting had run this deep.
These dark waters were uncharted and navigating through them was a perilous thing.
Logan was also having trouble with his misfit mushrooms. They’d been working diligently to perfect the As Many Knots As Possible technique, but no one had ranked up yet. Not even with help from the Blue Divine Philter and the added Lojjikki Lotion. Yeez Tee fought hard to keep his hopes alive. He was running out the door less and less, and yet, he still didn’t handle failure that well. Logan didn’t want the troubled rebel to backslide into despair. He had to reach them. And he thought he might know how. It was a long shot, sure, but at this point what did any of them have left to loose?
With two weeks of classes left, Logan headed over to Nightfall University, and gather Professor Rick and the rest of the outcast mushroom men and women. Pewig Bulge, Gary Bernardii, Amanda Pears, all of them were there. Despite Logan’s best efforts, he never seen a more broken and defeated looking group of dungeon cores. They were going through the motions because Logan believed in them, but it was clear they didn’t really believe in themselves. Defeat and resignation in equal parts were hammered into the lines of their face and the slump of their shoulders.
Logan posted up behind the podium at the front of the classroom. “I’m thinking today we do something a bit different.”
Yeez Tee folded his arms. “We’re hopeless, Logan. I know we’re loveable misfits, and I know you believe in us even when we can’t believe in ourselves, but you’ve tried for weeks to get us to master this technique. And we’ve gotten nowhere.” He frowned like the naysayer he was.
“Right, Yeez,” Logan said. “So that means we have to flip the script. There’s plenty of Apothos on campus, but I’m wondering if we can’t find a spot that’s especially strong. Maybe somewhere outside of the classroom?”
Professor Rick snapped his fingers. “There’s that new Melvin R. Chevalier park that has a ton of Apothos. We could head over there. Class outside? Oh, Rick, you’re letting Logan Murray turn you into a rebel. I know, Lori, you always did like it when I broke the rules. Let’s do it!”
Professor Rick and Logan led the misfit mushroom guardians out of the building and across the campus to a ridge of rock jutting out into the Onyx Ravine. Overhead, minerals in the rocks glittered like stars. Lamps lined the walkways which wound and snaked through a lush forest filled with towering trees that glowed with latent Apothos. It was a serene spot all right.
Once they were far enough away from the main campus, Logan had the class sit in a circle around him, including Professor Rick and Lori. He cleared this throat. “If you’re willing, I’m going to do a Symbiotic bond with you all. Then, when we’re connected, I’ll show you how I perfected the AMKAP technique. I’ll be able to manipulate each of your cores directly through the bond and guide you through the exercise—teach you exactly how it should feel.”
Professor Rick was positively beaming. “We did this before. Last year. It was very effective, if a little intimate. I can’t imagine Headmaster Webbs would approve. But heck, look at us! We’re already doing class outside the classroom. We’re breaking all the rules today. What’s one more little rule?”
Yeez shot to his feet. “You just want to take over my mind and turn me into a slave. It’s not happening, Logan. I’m a loner. I was meant to be alone. All the while cursing the crushing loneliness that consumes my every waking thought.”
Logan was kind of prepared for this. “Look, Yeez, you don’t have to do it. I know bonding can get deeply personal. But it might be your one chance to break through the barrier that’s been holding you back all these years. It’ll be uncomfortable, but it’s like my Uncle Bud always used to say. Growth is always uncomfortable.”
Pewig Bulge suddenly roared, “Sit down, Yeez. You’re one of us. Stop pretending you’re not!”
Yeez sat. “I respect strong leadership,” he said. “I can sense that you’re going to break us like wild stallions.”
Gary Bernardii ate some of the grass with the mouths in the palm of his hands. “You know, this is like how the four celestial ancestors taught their students, out in the open, in the forests of far-flung worlds. I feel like I’m in the presence of a true master.”
Logan wasn’t sure how to accept the compliment. He just tried to move them on.
“Because I’m B-Class, Rank 4—”
The misfit mushroom cores all gasped and stared whispering and chattering. Even Professor Rick had to go over how amazing that was with Lori.
Logan lifted his hands. “You guys will get there. With some work.”
Yeez frowned. “Oh, sure, you worked hard, but I overheard you the other day talking with Professor Rick. All your hard work has you stuck. I guess work and perseverance aren’t all that they’re cracked up to be.”
“They are,” Logan countered. “But they can only take you so far. It’s like… you do the work, you accept the gifts you get, and you don’t worry about the stuff you don’t get. At a certain point, you just need to divorce yourself from the outcome and accept that not everything is inside your control. It’s about gratitude, man. It’s being grateful for the fruits of your labor, though they might not be the fruit you thought you’d get.”
Gary let out a happy sigh. “So wise. So powerful. We’re ready to work, Professor Murray!”
Logan wasn’t sure if he liked the sound of that. On the other hand, he could get used to it pretty quickly if he had to. But really, his goal wasn’t to teach. It was to protect Earth and see about getting his homeworld a bit more Apothos.
First things first, he wanted to help his friends. “As I was saying, I can bind myself to seven hosts total, but I can only hold it for four hours, thanks to the three knots around my core.”
There was more chatter.
“Three knots?”
“B-Class?”
“Are we sure he’s from Uroth?”
Logan raised his hands and silence the class with a look. “I’m bound to my friend Inga, but I can still do six more. Which means, I need some volunteers.”
He got his volunteers right off the bat. Yeez Tee was one of them as well as the other usual suspects. Those that wanted to bind with him all moved forward, while the others waited in the back, watching with great expectations in their eyes.
Logan let the symbiotic spores leak out of his gills, swirling and dancing through the air around him.
Professor Rick, Yeez, Gary, Amanda, Pewig, and Luco Paxillus, all breathed in his spores. Luco was mostly nose and cap. His nostrils flared dramatically as he inhaled.
Professor Rick smiled. “That smells good. But Logan, you can include the entire class. Don’t you see?”
Logan didn’t understand. He saw the normal Symbiotic bonding messages. The names of the misfit mushroom cores filled his head, and he would be getting 10% of any Apothos they cultivated. But then something strange happened.
Professor Rick unleashed his own Symbiotic spores, and so did Gary, Amanda, and Luco. In seconds a great golden wave of spore washed over the clearing like an early morning ground fog. Logan realized in a flash that they could daisy chain the Symbiotic spore connection, to include the entire class. He couldn’t personally bind to every student, but he could bind with several who could bind with more and more still, since all fungaloids possessed the symbiotic ability.
He felt himself linked to all the cores. Felt their energy surge into him along with a rush of distant thoughts and feelings. He knew enough not to go delving into their psyches—he hadn’t forgotten what had happened with Chadrigoth.
The other fungaloids, however, didn’t have his self-restraint. He was suddenly an open book to them. Logan, at first, was supremely uncomfortable bearing his soul to these relative strangers. Then he realized he didn’t have anything to hide. It was one of the benefits of being a good person. No secrets.
They did see his disappointment, his little flashes of despair, and a bit of envy he hadn’t even realized was there. There was also some smugness and arrogance. Was it a problem? Logan didn’t know. But all of those faults, be they big or small, were balanced out by the core values that had taken him this far in life. His determination and unwavering loyalty. His commitment to doing what was right, even when it was hard. His willingness to sacrifice, to suffer, for his convictions and his unbreakable will, reinforced with a perpetual beam of optimism.
It was a revelation that he wasn’t perfect. Wasn’t a messiah. He was something better, in its own way. A real person, who could show others the way forward, because he was like them. Not above them.
And as knowledge of himself went out, Apothos came in, filling his core with an unimaginable ocean of Apothos. They were all so attuned. He also had the idea that if there were more fungaloids, they could basically daisy chain an infinite number of mushroom cores.
Had the Spore Lords figured this out? They must’ve. What had happened to them? Had they gathered so much power that they transcended all of reality? Had they become gods?
<Okay,> he sent to the class. <Now that we’re all connected, I’m going to show you how I mastered the AMKAP. Watch and—>
Professor Rick cut him off. <Best not to think too much of the Spore Lords, Logan. There is a certain seductive quality to this Symbiotic bond we all share. Let’s have you show us the technique so we can disconnect.>
Yeez popped up suddenly. <Oh, you guys. You’ve been so patient with me. I can’t thank you enough. I’ll be… better. I promise.>
<Love ya, Yeez,> Gary sent, while patting him on the shoulder.
<You’re one of us, guy,> Amanda added.
<I like your hat and cape. Always have. Always will.> That was from Pewig Pulge.
A new, very feminine, voice chuckled. <Glad you always come back, Yeez. We’re going to be outcast oddballs together. To the very end.>
<Is that Lori?> Logan asked in wonder.
Lori laughed. <It is. Rick and I love having you in class. You really are special, Logan Murray. And I know that compliments make you uncomfortable, so let’s move on.>
They were in perfect communion. It was comforting and flawless, as good as linking up with the Terrible Twelfth, or maybe a bit better, because of all the fungal power fueling them. They were a true community. Logan could easily see himself wanting to take over an entire world with just fungaloids. Those celestial nodes would be totally safe forever. Why stop at one world? Why not infect whole galaxies?
<Careful, Logan,> Professor Rick sent again. <Get on with it.>
It was the first time the professor had been stern.
Logan shook his head, pushing away thoughts of transcendence and immortality. He could feel the seductive siren call of power and suddenly he realized that maybe there really was more to the Spore Lords than just myths and legends. This power was great. Maybe too great. He needed to focus on the task at hand, then break this communion before things got out of hand. With a renewed sense of will and purpose, he pulled in Apothos from the air, from the Onyx Ravine, from the many mushrooms he was attached to. Seventeen in all.
He then took a deep breath and showed them how to push the Apothos into his core. His knots glimmered like three stars, glowing brighter, brighter, brighter. He saw he could tie another knot, so easily, and he saw how their combined power helped him feel the Tree of Souls.
He tied his fourth knot with his fungal friends cheering him on. Yes!
And then, he felt himself ranking up, one rank, two ranks, three ranks, and more. It felt so effortless.
There was no jealousy. No animosity. Just perfect union. And he found that Gary was ranking, as was Professor Rick and Pewig Bulge. The fungal basilisk hit C-Class as his scales thickened and he changed forms, becoming longer and more muscled. Amanda Pears leveled, and so did Yeez Tee and Luco Paxillus—who was grinning like a loon under his huge nose and big cap.
Logan couldn’t get to A-Class, could he?
He felt the Tree of Souls calling to him, and he went. It was just like before, in the Sacred Hollow. He saw the four celestial ancestors on a wide limb—the Azure Dragon, the Onyx Tortoise, the Vermillion Phoenix, and the Crystal Tiger. They were beautiful guardians, but curiously, they wanted him to stay away from the trunk of grand tree, Ashvattha.
But the tree was calling to him. Beckoning him onward. The Golden Serpent slithered through the air, his sleek, scaled body wrapped around the base of the tree. That mystical snake was everything and nothing, a vast presence that dwarfed the four celestial ancestors. The Golden Serpent was the master of the ancestors. Above them and around them, separate yet apparat all at once. According to legend, he was a triple S-Class guardian. But seeing him in action, drifting and floating on the cosmic winds of reality, he felt even more powerful than that.
Surely, if it was possible to ascend to godhood, this divine being had done so.
The Golden Serpent shot forward to grab Logan, but it was too late.
Logan was propelled right to the trunk of the Tree of Souls, to the center of all reality. He saw a groove, and nestled away within was a bit of mold growing in the crack in the trunk. Logan reached and touched it. Immediately, he and felt the power of the spores. It was old, ancient, and so powerful.
It was part of the Tree. Just as it was completely different, a completely alien presence, but still alive. Alive and yearning to survive, just like all life. Sure. Logan had a very Jurassic Parkmoment.
Life finds a way.
Logan knew he was alone—the fungaloid class couldn’t see him, and although they might be able to feel him a bit, he had far outpaced them. Surpassed their limitations. It was like they were running a marathon and Logan had sprinted to the finish.
They could catch up. They would catch up. Eventually. He just needed to help them.
Logan embraced the spores nestled within the vast crack in the trunk, and the minute he did, he exploded into a million spores. Then a billion. Then a trillion. Then he was all life in the universe. All the stars. But all the stars were just a different kind of fungal spore.
It was all connected. And he became that connection for just a few, blissful seconds. There was no thought. No worry. No emotion at all. Just beautiful, serene existence. Sublime connection. His body was gone, his mind dissolved. Now, he was just a vast galaxy of spores. Kinda of like Professor Rick’s wife.
No, he was exactly like Lori. There was no difference, save for the sheer magnitude of his transformation. But that was a difference of size, not quality or type. In truth, there was no more differences at all. Between him and anyone or anything. He’d become one with all of reality. Not bad for a little mushroom man, doomed to fail…
