Naturally, Morgan agreed to the proposal.
Of course, he did; what other choices were there to consider?
In truth, there were two, and both were tragically different flavors of insanity. The Scientist could have ignored the proposal, written whatever mystical BS the Monk had in mind as such, and continued the search for the missing link one island at a time. Or the Professor could have shifted his observations to Class Cultivators and risked entering a high traffic population hub while powerless and actively seeking a way to break the law. The first option was repeating the same action in hopes of a different result, the definition of madness. The other was simply suicidal wishful thinking.
The Spirit's guidance began immediately as they had Morgan store much of the loose red rocks littering the peak around them, bits of the Red Wastes that were pulled and flung up here by the Tower. Escaping the island after spending so much time on the peak almost became impossible as by the time they had descended, the Cerberi pack's hunt through the Coral Lands was well underway.
A cold sweat that had nothing to do with the temperature ran down his back when the barks and snarls of the triple-threat monsters began closing in on their location. No doubt interested in the new scent lingering on their territory. Yet the Spirit insisted on him grabbing clumps of Cerberus fur snagged on the rough rocks. Thankfully, after three nights of trudging up and down the same path, Morgan knew precisely what rocky structures were sturdy enough to walk over. By the first Cerberus came into view, the pair were already past the shallows.
"Hee-he." Giggled Ego as they placed the binoculars down so they could wave merrily at the pale figure pacing the distant shore. "It's Cream! He came to see us off."
"Or to investigate the unknown element and take it out should it prove a threat to his newly born child." Morgan absently yawned as he took out the compass. "But since we're not going to drink from that proverbial cup of chance, I don't mind calling it half full instead of half empty."
"Is that optimism I hear in that monotone voice of yours?" They asked with a beaming smile. "I'm glad to see you getting out of that funk."
"It helps that I don't have to go back to that wanna-be volcano of an island any time soon." He said, picking up the paddles and rotating the inflatable raft in accordance with the compass. "Trinity's Crucible is the farthest island from Lamplight Isla, but if we keep up a steady pace, it'll only take a couple of hours-"
"Sorry to interrupt." The Monk apologized, their hands making the 'time-out' gesture. "But we need to head Southeast first."
Southeast? But the only thing in that direction was-
"You want us... to go back to Hell's Garden?" He asked with an arched brow. "Ego, you hated that place. God damn it, even I don't want to go back without a fly swatter and a goat at the ready. Why on Earth are we heading to that yellow nightmare?"
"We need to pick up some groceries." They snickered and picked up their own paddles. "Relax; we just have to visit the shore we landed on and leave. No need to venture further in again."
"Groceries?" The very idea of anything on that bloodthirsty island being edible made him feel like an ant approaching a pitcher plant.
"Of a sort. You'll see when we get there." The Monk hummed a jolly tune as they altered their course. "Trust in your guide; all things will make sense soon."
The Professor tiredly looked at the soft, pillowy clouds drifting through the blue sky and wondered if their words were a prediction or a statement…
Well, there was only one way to find out, so the man began paddling without further complaint.
----------------------------------------
[I have a few complaints about the morning itinerary.] Grumbled Morgan crankily, six hours and two islands later. He spotted another metallic green feather lying on the bottom of the swampy water and swam up to snatch it. Before storing it in the ring, he shook off the murky water clinging to it, careful not to let the toxic droplets touch him as they floated up through the air to join the pool above. [This grocery trip is lasting a little longer than expected.]
[I know you're tired, and I'm sorry, but this will be the last island we visit before home, I promise.] Consoled the Monk, cassock swirling behind them as they dolphin kicked their way over. Each hand gently pinched yet more feathers, and the Spirit offered them all for storage. [That was around six feathers, so only 15 more to go.]
[14.] Corrected Morgan wearily and began looking around for the recently reunited third member. With the emerald waters above casting everything in a rippling green hue, spotting anything lurking within the trees was difficult. [I just found one. Momo should have more; she knows the lay of the land like the back of her tail by now.]
[More like the back end of a Stymphalian.] Ego sighed, their gaze upwards to spot any feathers. [I swear there are more fish than birds now than when we left her here. You'd think the opposite would be true in a swamp.]
This spectacular island was the first they had come across during the expeditions. Just as with Lamplight's fog-emitting trees and the Crucible's living furnaces, the spindly tupelo-like trees sprouting from the barren soil were no mundane exception. The bark on these Biome-settlers had thousands of little protrusions, like thorns on a rose, only they curled upwards to create circular hoops. Whenever air passed through the hoop, its density drastically increased severalfold until air became dense enough for water and water-rich lifeforms to float. The effect had a limit range of three to five meters past the treeline and extended to the average tree's canopy.
Above the invisible pool was a thin layer of sickly green water, only a meter thick. Only the tops of the Pholóē trees and a single plant species rose above the swamp water to take in the sun. These plants had a massive bulbous brown body resembling an XXL ship buoy, with stringy roots that crept like vines down a Pholóē tree to bury into the soil. Over 15 plant stems bearing umbrella-shaped white flowers sprouted from the bulb's tip.
An artificial increase in air density was the best hypothesis Morgan could develop.
For example, a denser gas should have made sound waves travel slower and, therefore, sound far deeper. That was also true here, as Morgan's voice became so low he could rival the best death metal singers. Further, the Bloodline showed each of these hoops brimmed with Qi, and the altered air held some of the tree's Prana energy as the area had a green miasmic haze to his enhanced sight. So, something was definitely going on here.
[Eh, I disagree. If anything, such strangeness is par for the course.] Morgan shrugged before spotting movement from a hole dug by the base of a nearby tree. [We did name Bizarro Swamp after all.]
They both watched a school of walking catfish-like Beasts cautiously swim from the safety of the den to inspect the plants bobbing above them. With mottled green tops, dirt-brown bellies, and thick prehensile whiskers twice their body length, these creatures were as adorable as they were bizarre.
Especially when Morgan recalled their Bestairy entry.
image [https://images.finitevoid.dev/userImages/d375895b-a8f6-46ed-b0f4-9a63e1dd8150/47c559bf-b093-403f-8656-054ede927570.webp]
The largest Hopper of the school entangled their whiskers around it before suddenly plunging downward and dragging the plant along for the ride.
[Is that fish trying to drown an aquatic plant?] Asked Ego.
[I'm as eager to find out as you. We didn't get much time to observe this ecosystem.] The Scientist passionately admitted before ducking behind the largest tree near him. [Let's wait; I want to see if the three-part food chain model still works with an invasive species.]
[Wow, what a miracle I have witnessed. And to think you were an exhausted mess just a second ago.] The Spirit deadpanned after manifesting by the Professor.
[Ego, I'm tired. Not dead.]
Morgan ignored Ego's eye roll and paid close attention to the struggle between Hopper and... Damn it. Why hadn't Eris given them a
database relating to botany?
Something to look out for in the future.
Alone, the plant's buoyancy proved too much for the struggling Spirit Beast, their tail and fin-like forearms straining to move the bulb. However, help arrived as half the school joined in, adding in their own whiskers before swimming in the same direction as the piscine alpha. Working together, the plant was dragged down to the dry, its dripping wet flesh wrapping violently from the pressure shift. The bulb imploded on itself before the first Hopper hit the dirt floor.
*BOOM!* With the air so dense, the sound blast felt several times louder than it should have.
Flower stems punched through the bottom of the bulb's flesh like a sea urchin turned inside out. In an instant, the ugly buoy had become a nasty sea mine bouquet. The school swarmed the exotic plant, devouring everything but altogether avoiding the reddish brown liquid containing tiny black specs oozing out from the puncture wounds. Ascending like churning air bubbles, the moment the liquid was exposed to water, its color shifted to the same acidic green while the specks continued upward to the surface.
[Oooh.] Awed the Professor while he massaged his poor ears that throbbed from the sonic abuse. [Those black specks are seeds. Realm Hoppers eat the mature plants, which, on death, release a liquid toxin that carries their offspring to safety in the poisoned waters. Waters that offer the perfect camouflage for the island's population control.]
Hot damn, Morgan was really starting to fall for this planet's charm. Studying life here was like watching a documentary narrated by someone on an acid trip.
As with every location visited so far, Bizarro Swamp was a large landmass capable of housing a small modern town, yet only continued four types of lifeforms that coexisted in harmony. The relationships were rarely peaceful, but each force contributed in one way or another to the ecosystem.
There was a 'producer' species, typically but not always a plant, that made up the bottom of the food chain. The 'prey' Beast species fed off the 'producer' and was, in turn, eaten by the 'predator' Beasts who sat unchallenged in the chain. The Pholóē trees were never part of the food chain but had their own category of 'Biome-setter'. A term Morgan came up with as the semi-sentient trees always drastically altered their environment.
[It seems your mini ecosystem theory is holding true.] Agreed Ego before a concerning thought made them stiffen behind him. [Hey, that blast was pretty loud. What are the chances the birds heard it?]
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
A shadow suddenly passed over the pair, and they swam for the nearest tree to avoid another run-in without their ace present. Naturally, they still watched the show unfold.
Obscured in the waters above, a torpedo silhouette circled over the herbivorous feeding frenzy. The Hoppers were far too busy ripping into the last bits of plant bulb or using their whiskers to slap away more aggressive schoolmates to notice anything amiss.
[Very.] He answered as a familiar predator made its appearance.
image [https://images.finitevoid.dev/userImages/d375895b-a8f6-46ed-b0f4-9a63e1dd8150/c0cddbc2-9fa5-4629-b012-8ca93e720a28.webp]
*Plop*
A blur of black and metallic green plunged from the water into the heart of the unsuspecting monster School. The Pholóē Stymphalian appeared to be a corvid's take on the penguin body plan. Standing a knee height, the Beast's streamlined body lacked the fatty bulk but was compensated with feathers that were harder than rock. Their legs appeared stubby, making them perfect rudders to steer expertly as powerful wings closer to ravens propelled them quickly to their prey. Their wings remained extended as a greenish aura, visible to the unenhanced eye, coated the feathers on the very edge.
Like a fighter jet, the bird turned midair just before impaling one of the unsuspecting Beasts. Instead, it did something far worse. The toxic corvid's wing nicked the tail of a Hopper near the school's outskirt, sealing its fate before turning the dive into a belly slide on the dirt floor. The other Hoppers were long gone by the time the Pholóē Stymphalian twisted around for another fly-by. Not bothering to help their fallen schoolmate as they spasumed in a fishy seizure. The telltale sign of Stymphalian neurotoxin.
The Stymphalian waited until all twitching life left the helpless prey before raising their head and unleashing trumpeting cries of victory.
"CAW!" It screamed, slapping toxic wings against its crop in triumph. "CAW! CAW! C-"
*Pop*
But it was one cry, too many, for the Pholóē Stymphalian had caught the attention of Bizarro Swamp's apex predator.
Momo, the Spiritual Beast, now larger than a fully grown green iguana, teleported right on top of the native bird.
Perhaps, 'right on top of' was underselling what happened. The Princess skipped the arduous step of grappling or chasing her prey in favor of transporting herself in a way that the bird's head was already between her now fanged jaws.
*Snap!*
The headless monster corpus began slowly drifting up, but Momo grabbed hold of a stubby leg with her powerful tail while she swallowed the head. When her unblinking gaze returned to the body, Morgan made to speak up.
Well, he couldn't actually speak because of altered air in his lungs. So he had the Spirit speak for him. Ego's avatar didn't talk with vocal cords unless using corporal form. Instead, they skipped that biological crutch in favor of speaking directly with their Essence. Morgan didn't understand Soul to Soul communication, and neither did Ego.
Hopefully, one day, they both would.
"Young Monochrome." They called as Morgan swam towards her, Ego following silently in his wake. "We need the feathers, remember? Please don't eat the bird."
"Mmm." She growled deep enough to resemble continental plates scraping against each other. Still, Momo passed the bleeding bird to her parent with apparent reluctance. "Mmmmm." She drew out the growl and slapped her tail against the ground, sending up a dirt plum.
[Still hungry?] The Professor looked over to the dead Gulper. [Ego, we don't need the Hopper, do we?]
[N-no.] The Monk answered mentally with a flinch as the Princess stared daggers at them. "Monochrome, we only need the green feathers so you can-"
*Pop*
Behind the Spirit, the sounds of flesh ripping and tearing made them shiver.
[I liked her better when she ate fruits and bugs.] They projected with a sigh.
[She's just cranky that we woke her up so early. But I will admit it was easier to feed her back then. Are you sure we need to bring her to base? Momo might be able to go a few days without eating, but she'll need to eventually.]
*Pop*
[Mmm.] Agreed the Princess after teleporting onto him, her head resting on his while her body clung to his back. He scratched the smooth skin between her eye crests, and she let out a low rumble of approval.
[Yes.] The Monk said, regaining their composure. [For what comes next, we'll all have to pitch in.]
----------------------------------------
Before Morgan finished this last task, he checked the time on his phone and cursed internally as he realized it was already 5pm. Meaning he'd been awake for 20 grueling hours without rest or food. While the old-man-made-young had pulled plenty of all-nighters before, the days of restless sleep on the raft increased the fatigue by an order of magnitude. But it was almost over. All he had to do was pour the contents from the mortar where he kept the rest…
Where did he place the- Ah, yes. The metal camping cup was still nestled in his lap.
As the final bit of finely crushed charred fog-willow root was shaken to the tin camping cup, Morgan sucked in a breath of panic. The cup was only at half capacity, yet there was no more charcoal to be harvested. His sleep-deprived brain struggled to recall how much of the cup he was meant to fill.
What had the Monk said after they had collected more 'groceries' from Lamplight Isla's surface? Damn it, he was only half listening at the time, but they either wanted the cup to be half full or half empty…
Hmmmm.
Perhaps his mental faculties were more compromised than initially predicted. Whatever came next needed to happen sooner rather than later if the Monk wanted him to be even remotely lucid.
The Professor sat up abruptly, knocking over the log he sat on, and accidentally dropped the blackened mortar and pestle to fall into the still-warm ashes of the firepit.
"One cup of charcoal, half filled," Morgan grunted as he dropped the cup on the research table where Ego fiddled with their own project. "What's next?"
The Spirit put down the rectangular wooden frame made from sea-smoothed driftwood scavenged off Lamplight's shore. They looked up at him and considered before asking, "Did you make sure this wood only came from the section of pillar root the Harpy cut down?"
"Yes." He said laconically.
"Did Momo return with the fog-willow sap?" The Spirit looked around in concern. "I'm pretty sure I didn't hear her come in."
"Merrrr." A muffled growl came from the entryway.
They both turned in time to watch as the Princess sauntered over, Morgan's machete between her teeth and a second tin cup held above her back by the tail. After crawling the entire distance, something they had rarely seen her do since the metamorphosis, Momo offered Morgan the dirty knife before slamming the sap-filled cup on the table.
"Mmm?" Momo said as she found it impossible to release her grip from the sticky container. She tilted her head to one side before letting out an annoyed, "Meh."
*Pop*
The cup remained stuck fast to the table while Momo relocated a meter to the left, her pink tongue licking persistently at the sap still clinging to her.
"That's interesting." Yawned the Scientist as he poked at the superglue masquerading as tree sap. "Ego, can you note what happened in Momo's info log?"
"Yes, but it'll have to wait till later." The Spirit promised while gingerly leaning their unfinished frame against the pile of driftwood near them. Once satisfied that no harm would befall it, Ego added, "We're almost done; just place all the gathered supplies on the table."
Without complaint, he pointed the ringed hand where directed, pictured in his mind exactly what needed to be removed from dimensional storage and where each item was to be placed so nothing fell or, Eris forbid, spilled. So long as Morgan was careful and kept a tight hold on his concentration, he should be able to place everything in one go.
"Morgan, just place each item at a time, please." Caution the Spirit as they gently patted his shoulder. "You're exhausted, and I don't want to pick up ingredients parts from in between the floor gaps."
"Fine." He grumbled in surrender before uttering, "Exitus."
First out was one of his ruined shirts, folded in on itself to keep safe the 27 stamens taken from a deceased, likely murdered, Fig Hive Queen on the shores of Hell's Garden. Most of their vivid yellow pollen had ended up clinging to the shirt, but Ego didn't seem to mind, so Morgan kept going.
*Thunk*
His aim was a little off as the tent's former carrying bag fell several centimeters to the table, the jolt allowing a portion of the mesmerizing marine blue sand to spill out. Composed of 27 handfuls of pure lapis lazuli harvested from the crescent sandbars of the as-of-yet-to-be-fully-explored Luna Lagoon. The Scientist deeply regretted being unable to dive further into the submerged forest teeming with relatively calm aquatic Beasts. Sadly, that expedition might never happen until he figured out how to add air to the scuba tanks or how to breathe underwater.
Once the Spirit carefully guided the gemstone sand back into the bag, Morgan added the remaining items. 27 red Tower stones of Trinity's Crucible stuffed in a backpack, a ziplock bag holding 27 green feathers of the Pholóē Stymphalian, 27 patches of white Lamplight moss tied into a bundle with twine, and a fist-sized ball of mixed Cerberus fur. The Princess sniffed the fur curiously and apparently found the scent… pleasing since her jaws opened and closed hungrily.
The two Sapient beings shared a look with each other and silently agreed on two things. The first was that naming the new Cerberi family after delectable sweets may have been a mistake. Second, they would never make the mistake of taking Momo to visit little baby Biscuit.
"Not a bad haul after a hard day's work. Now, take out all the cooking supplies." They said, pushing the supplies together to maximize free space. "I'm talking about the plates, bowls, pots, the utensils, all of it."
Morgan stared hard at the grinning Spirit, then at the largely inedible material they called ingredients, then back at the Spirit. He took a deep breath to give his addled brain a moment to form his following sentence as coherently and diplomatically as possible.
"...I feel that I should-"
"-should trust in your guide." Ego finished sagely. "I agree, Professor. After this, your part in the preparations will be over. Go sleep in the tent; Momo and I can handle the rest."
"What?" Demanded human and gecko at the same time.
Technically, Morgan was the only one who said 'what' while Momo's outburst sounded more akin to 'ma-ht', with extra emphasis on the first syllable. However, some exclamations can transcend the set boundaries between species.
"Young Monochrome, please hear me out." Ego pleaded humbly with clasped hands outstretched to her. "I know we don't get along, but I need assistance in guiding your father towards the inspiration he seeks to start his Cultivation. However, for what comes next, Morgan must be well rested, but this poor Spirit would be bound to his sleeping body. In truth, I require assistance in fetching certain materials, tending the fires, and ensuring their contents do not burn."
A pained look overcame Momo as she considered the request. On one padded toe, spending time with the unnatural creature that had taken to possessing her parent was distasteful. On the other hand, even the monstrous reptile knew how deep her father's craving for cosmic energy ran. With unblinking eyes, she saw the hunger hidden behind the expressionless facade. Ultimately, an apple never fell far from the tree, and there was only one reasonable choice to make. She approached the Spirit weary.
"Mmm." Momo rumbled and, using her tail as a kickstand, stood on her hind legs to offer Ego a foreleg to shake.
Wow. Apparently, the Professor's lessons in body language had produced some impressive results.
"Thank you, Monochrome." They sighed in relief, shaking the offered limb. "I promise you I will do my best."
Morgan was being completely ignored. Honestly, he might have been more irritated if he had the energy or if the scene playing out right in front of him wasn't so damned fascinating. It was like watching the peace talks of a sy-fy movie where the reptilian invaders made peace with the ghosts haunting the planet.
"Ahem." He cleared his throat to catch their attention. "I suppose I'm being overruled here?"
"Hee-he! Not to be mean, but your Fate had been sealed the moment you accepted my proposal." They snickered, and Momo nodded in agreement. "Now, off to bed. I will get you when it is time."
"Could I eat first?" Morgan sighed.
"Sorry, but no." The Monk smiled apologetically. "Fasting is a necessary step."
"Could you tell me if I'm really going to have to eat," he gestured to the table, "all that?"
"No."
In frustration, Morgan massaged the bridge of his nose, only to yank the hand away when he caught the noxious smell of sweat, saltwater, and figs.
That fruity scent sent a shudder down his spine.
"Ego, throw me a bone here; at least let me take a bath first."
"Again, no." The Spirit bowed their head, but he saw the mirth shining in their eyes. "That will come later."
"Then what can I do?" He asked dryly.
Ego and Momo looked at each other, then at the tent, then expectantly at him.
Oh, for the love of-
Morgan shuffled off to bed while the others got to work.