“We live in a time of peace, a time of prosperity…” The King began, addressing the now silent banquet hall.

His voice was the thunderclap it had been earlier, yet now it filled every corner of the room and shook every table. It was a volcanic eruption, commanding attention and yet bolstering confidence in his leadership at the same time. It was a bit frightening, but I couldn’t help being a little captivated deep in my berry loins. This was how a King addressed his court. This was how a leader addressed soldiers before war in medieval times. I felt like I was in the presence of pure and utter greatness.

Fogwarth poured another sip of water into my mouth as we stared at full attention.

“Yet, it comes at a painful price. It is a time that is paid in blood and tears. One that is fought for; that is died for. Do not be fooled, dear brothers and sisters of the kingdom, for peace cannot truly be peace without war. There is no joy in our division without moments of sorrow…”

“Hey, wait a minute-“ I said quietly just before being rudely shushed by Fogwen and the frog emissary.

The King flapped his massive wings sending ripples of air outward as he hovered before his throne, his inordinate amount of eyes pouring over us. I could have sworn one of them was staring directly at me the entire time, but then again it was hard to tell with just how many of them there were. They shifted and moved in place, each eye varying in size as they scouted around the hall. Still, that little one right near the center just eyed me all throughout the speech. I decided to stare back, knowing that in any traditional staring contest I would lose.

“Let us not fool ourselves into the notion that we have no danger. There is always a ghost of it, a haunting of danger that awaits for us to fall asleep for but a moment before it strikes. Even now our enemies man our borders, waiting for our orchard to be undefended! Hours ago my own son, Fogwarth, had conflict with a scout within the boundary of our Kingdom’s fields! We must let them know we are to be feared! We must depeche our mode of attack!”

“Oh come on,” I groaned under my breath. “No one says that. Literally no one says those words together like that.”

“Shush, sir berry,” Fogwarth said quietly. “Father’s war address must not be interrupted, even by his own son’s closest friend!”

I just scowled angrily as the king continued.

“Tonight we feast and we give thanks to one another for the sacrifices that have once been and those yet to come. For the ailment of war, a celebration must always be… The Cure…”

The one small eye that had been staring at me slowly shut its wrinkled, fleshy lid and reopened it again for the first time throughout the speech.

The bastard just winked at me. He winked at me! That eyeball moth freak knew exactly what he was doing!

“I hate it here…” I muttered, but this time no one seemed to hear me.

The King finally took his seat with his lingered tendrils folding under him like a cushion on the throne and his lower eyes closing their lids. It was an odd sight to see, but I was already becoming numb to the odd sights in this dreamscape. As I thought that, the weird Mothric brother with the giant eye for a head put a full, frothy mug of ale inside of his robe and it disappeared with a not-so-subtle crunching sound. A shiver went through my berry at the thought of whatever the Hell he had under there.

“Before we commence with our festivities, let us go over the orders for the morning. Captains, please rise.”

As the king ordered it several people rose from surrounding tables, with a few at our own joining them. Foghurdt, Fogwen, Fogetha, and Fogdahn all stood, while Fogwarth remained seated and silent. I could see a few of the attendees look over at him, whispering and laughing under their breaths. I wondered why for a moment, but was quickly distracted when the King called for order again and began serving out the orders.

“Foghurdt, your party will partner with Fogdahn and form a [Raid Unit] with yourself as the [Raid Commander]. The both of you shall march on the forces gathered outside of our northern wall and gather information as to their need to survey our barrier. You may allow a single envoy of Icaraz to return with your unit if they wish to open communication. Approach with caution, Heirs 4th and 6th.”

“Yes, my lord,” both answered together, bowing slightly and falling back into their seats.

“Fogwen, Fogetha,” he called out next, greeting both in turn. “Scout the walls to the east and west for further intruders; Icaraz or otherwise. Only enter combat if necessary, and report back the moment you find any evidence of their incursion. If you find naught, follow the outer wall north until you meet at the northern gate and report back for further instruction.”

“Yes, my lord,” they answered simultaneously just as the other two had. I looked at Fogwen briefly at the end and saw something written on her face. It was the smallest shred of a moment, but I could have sworn it was scorn or rejection. Her face had tightened to a scowl for a single second at the mention for scouting, then once more about forgoing combat. It was interesting, and I wondered how I could mock her for it later. For now I would just stuff that information down and see about getting some more water.

“Fogwarth, rise,” the King called out, and suddenly a sea of mutters and whispers rocked the crowd like a storm. Hushed words were shared as eyes all fell on Fogwarth, which numbered in the high hundreds given the strange ratio of eyes to bodies in this room, and the inch worm nervously stood up at the table. “Form an [Adventure Party], my son. You may take Fogdahn’s golems, Ak-Lok and Ix-Lok, along with one other of your choice. I am sure your spherical, succulent, ripe companion will also be joining you to round out your fifth place.”

Suddenly those same eyes, all of those same eyes, fell on me. I gulped like a cartoon dog about to solve a mystery and unmask some old man trying to scam children. It was a big, hard gulp.

[Quest Received: Prelude of War - Southern Border Scout. Quest Giver: The Mothric King. Description: The King of the Mothric Kingdom has sent out the orders to his troops. Your party is charged with scouting the southern border wall of the Kingdom for possible intruders. Success Condition: Reach the southern border wall and survey ‘2 Miles’ of the perimeter for enemies. Report back any findings to the King. Reward: Experience, Currency, Item. Failure Condition: Fogwarth, 7th Heir, perishes, or findings are not communicated within 48 hours]

I did a quick double take, trying to ignore the interface’s message regarding the quest.

The King laughed, it was a freight train rumbling through the banquet hall.

“I have faith in both yourself and your Companion, my dear Heir 7th. And you, Barry,” he said, flicking his pupils directly on me. “I must say, I capture even greater potential for you the More I See.”

I wasn’t sure what to say so I stared back and answered with, “Uh… Thank you?”

He paused next, still eyeing me. Then he muttered, “More-I-See,”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Yes, I…” I trailed off, saying the words back in my mind together just a big quicker and shoved together. “Hey, wait a minute. Morrissey? Are you saying Morrissey?!”

The King laughed once more, then called for a toast and the celebration officially kicked off while I sat there stunned about the King’s obvious references. He passed one more wink in my direction then the feast was on.

[Current Debuffs: Thirst, Hunger, Rotting]

[Debuff Removed: Tired]

It wasn’t quite as bad as a hangover, but waking up with debuffs already active was kind of a real boot to the berries. I yawned, groaning as my berry body reflexively tried to stretch its invisible limbs. It was oddly unsatisfying going for a stretch just to realize there was nothing to stretch. It was like pulling up to a drive-through, mouth watering ready for your favorite burger, just to find out they are out of your order. The first day that pumpkin spice is back on the menu but your location didn’t get the shipment.

What? Stop with all of your judgments already. It’s a delightful way to enjoy an autumn morning. Leave me alone. Fuck you.

Once my vision cleared, following a second yawn, I peered around the quarters I had been set up in the night prior to get a better grasp on my surroundings. By the time I had been brought here the night before it was black outside and most torches and candles had been put out. It looked a lot like every other room I’d seen at the time, but I was way too tired to care. This morning the sunrise let in warm light through the windows like liquid gold, setting the room to glow and revealing the lavish room.

And when I say lavish, I mean lavish.

More of the tarnished gold candle poles were around the room, along with the paintings and tapestries that were normal here. However the floor itself was coated in a thick gray and black hide with fields of fur and the stained glass of the windows were brilliantly colored with vibrant blues and yellows, in contrast to the dreary tone of the castle proper. Weapons of every kind were mounted on the walls, the gleaming silver of blades meeting the new day’s sunlight like disco balls. A chandelier hung overhead, more of the tarnished gold and mounted with oval rubies, and it held seven candles which had all been extinguished.

At the center of the room was the largest bed I had ever seen, complete with dark stone obelisks at each corner that raised from the floor to the high vaulted ceiling. And there, with a snore in desperate need of a sleep apnea evaluation, laid Fogwarth. His inch worm body was mostly covered by a thick blanket, and his pudgy head rested on a red velvet pillow the size of a toddler’s crib.

Part of me really didn’t want to wake him up. He was so helpful, so kind, and he had saved my berry ass more than once in a single day. But at the same time I was rotting away with 54 hours remaining on my timer.

“Hey! Hey! Wake up!” I began shouting in my best impersonation of an annoying alarm clock. “Hey! Asshole! I’m rotting away over here!”

Eventually the worm stirred. His mouth opened, still glossy from the food and incredible amount of berries he had eaten at the feast, and he let out a massive yawn.

“Yes, yes…” He muttered, turning over and pulling up his blanket. “I will require but another five or so minutes. Awaken me at such a time.”

He almost instantly went back to sleep, barely pausing the speak between his snores. I was absolutely stunned. I guess it’s true what they say; act like an alarm clock, and get snoozed like one.

Someone says that. I’m sure it’s been said.

“No, no way. Get up, Fogwarth. I came here to evolve and stretch my limbs. And I’m all out of limbs. Now, get the Hell up!”

“Sigh,” Fogwarth said. He literally said sigh. “Fine, sir berry. You have bested me on this day.” He sat up, pulling off his blanket to reveal his unarmored, mushy green inch worm body. He stretched out each of his upper six arms and gave another yawn before his eyes met mine. “I admire your work ethic, dear friend. Not many would face the morning with such ravenous ferocity as yourself in your condition. Let us face the day together with a fervor like no other!”

“That’s the spirit!” I shouted back, allowing a smile to creep on to my face.

“...in another five or so minutes,” he said, and before I knew it he was flopped back down with his snore re-equipped.

After another fifteen minutes the inch worm finally woke up, prattling on the same shit he said before, then got himself prepared to go. I was shocked to see that he didn’t put his armor back on, given that we had a quest to fulfill where enemies could possibly be, and instead he adorned a patterned robe with sewn patterns and colors mirroring the many tapestries around the castle. I wanted to ask about it but thought better of it after seeing the way he longingly stared at his armor in the corner of the room. As he snatched me up from the wildly cozy chair I had been sleeping on, Fogwarth redid the ropes for my harness and this time wore me on the front of his body with both of us facing forward, sort of like a baby bjorn.

We began to walk out of the castle, making our way down from another wing that was apparent where the royal family had their rooms, and moving through the halls. I saw many familiar faces milling about in the early morning hour, most were from the feast but there had been others I recognized from the town or were members of the guard. One of the passersby tossed Fogwarth a strawberry the size of a softball and the inch worm gave his thanks before biting in.

He apologized each of the many times strawberry juice dribbled down onto my head.

At the entrance of the castle the light poured in to greet us, and I felt my [Hungry] debuff start to fade as I ate up the UVs. I spotted ahead, down the road a little, the four siblings from last night, each of which was conversing in the street outside of the main shops. It would make sense if we were meeting up with them before we headed out on our quests, since we were all charged with something similar, but I noticed they had all been armed and armored unlike us. It was tough to tell at such a long distance, but there was definitely light reflecting off of metal for Foghurdt and Fogetha.

I heard Fogwarth let out a huff as if he were angry about something right before we started off toward them, but we only made it a few feet before we were stopped by yet another familiar face.

“Ah, Prince!” The creaky, old tone of Aspenoc called out. “I seem to have caught you just at the right time. And you have Barry with you as well. Most excellent!”

“Oracle,” Fogwarth said, offered a slight bow that left me dangling off of him like a necklace. “It is good to see you before departing on father’s quest.”

“Indeed it is! I wanted to let our friend Barry know that I believe I have made a breakthrough on understanding his class!”

“Oh?” I said, raising a brow and pulling a smirk. “Then it really is good to see you, Aspenoc. What do you have for me?”

“Well, nothing yet,” he said, which caused me to deflate like a big, blue balloon. “But, there is progress still! I have discovered that your class revolves around Angiosperm! That will help us divine what abilities may run parallel with it, and how to best use them according to your Tier 1 evolution path!”

“Huh? Did you say sperm?” I asked.

“Why, yes. Yes I did,” Aspenoc answered, unphased.

“So, sperm. I have sperm powers.”

Aspenoc nodded. “Indeed you do.”

“Like… nut?” I asked, feeling my cheeks flush to a shade of what I imagined to be purple.

He shook his head. “No… No, I believe that would be something else. Perhaps a Legumancer or something of the sort. No, yours are more floral in nature.”

“Wait, I thought you said they were sperm powers? Now they are flowers?”

“Ah,” Aspenoc answered, shaking his head as if in realization. “Angiosperm. It is a classification of flowering fruits, such as blueberries but many others as well. I have sent for a farm master to attend me this afternoon, and together we shall learn of your abilities. I can feel it deep in my carapace, Barry. We are at the verge of understanding this!”

“Oh,” I felt relief wash over me. “Okay good, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep that bit going. So, maybe after the quest then?”

Aspenoc nodded his head. “Come to my quarters day or night, it is no trouble. If I have answers to share then I shall share them. Oh! Before I forget…” he rummaged through his scholarly robe for a minute, switching between pockets as if searching for something amongst whatever endless void of items he possessed. After a moment he pulled out one fist-sized dehydrated mushroom. It was the one he had on his desk the day before when he had been looking for my evolutions. “Take this, will you? I had a dream last night… Quite a strange dream at that. In it, Vacel came to me amongst a sea of shadows and pressed this very mushroom into my hands. They ordered me to gift it to the one lost on his path, and to tell him to ‘wash it in the blood of my husk.’ I do not know what it means, but when I awoke I found the item in my drawer and rushed down here!”

Fogwarth reached out and claimed the mushroom for me, offering to hold onto it until I had arms to hold it myself. I tried to ask Aspenoc what the Hell he was talking about, but the bee swiftly moved off and headed back towards his spire. Fogwarth acknowledged that he also had no idea what the Oracle was talking about or why some strange, pale mushroom with red spots would be significant, but that Aspenoc was eccentric and normally knew what he was talking about.

“So, what now?” I asked as we turned back and headed into town.

“Now,” Fogwarth began, his voice dropping to an oddly serious one. “I must face that which I have fled for a very, very long time, sir berry.”