Logan stepped softly, boots weaving between leaves and other detritus in the shadowed loam, more out of instinct than necessity. The dark circles beneath his eyes told a tale of several sleepless nights, though the smile he wore held genuine warmth. There in the shadows, a few strides from the wooden wall surrounding the core, he could see the children in the dim light of gently glowing mushrooms. The flytrap leshies, less opposed to dark places than their fellows, were working to assemble homes for themselves. Dagny grinned happily, trundling back into the light with an armload of twigs and small branches, while Marla worked with a pair of the carnivorous plants to set a post into the ground. The girl was coated in dirt and grime, but when the post thunked into place she threw up her hands and spun about in an excited dance. Watching the ‘mighty warriors’ of the grove mimic her movements and join in her celebration was enough to bring a chuckle out of him, despite his exhaustion.

Stepping up to the wall, he paused. The normally social specter of this dungeon had barely said a word in the three days since the battle. He’d come here with every intention of checking on her. Only now did he realize he had no idea how. Should he knock? That felt somehow silly…

“Oy…” he croaked. Then, clearing his throat, he tried again. “Oy, uhh… Manglegrove… are you in there?” He waited, now feeling just as ridiculous for seemingly talking to empty air. He was just raising his hand to try knocking on the bark of the nearest tangled mangrove trunk when a crackling, groaning, cacophony nearly made him jump out of his own boots. The shaft of red light that flooded out from between the parting trees might have been ominous, were it not so familiar in its hue. That seemed as good an invitation as any he was likely to receive, and in truth he was desperately curious about what lay within this section of the grove that was normally closed to him. Holding a loose bundle against his chest, he turned sideways and took a long step over the roots of the living wall, entering the space beyond.

“Watch your step.” the familiar voice of the core pulled his eyes downward. “If you step on a relay, it’ll be a bitch to replace.” Logan blinked against the light, adjusting until he could make out his surroundings. The large, circular room was baffling to behold. A central pillar held up a jagged chunk of glowing jasper bigger than his head. All around it, pulsing like some great, alien thing, were mats of assorted mushroom caps. Small gaps lay in bizarrely straight lines between certain sections, blocking them off into angular patterns that flickered almost imperceptibly against the radiance of the central stone. There, laying perhaps a few cubits from that jagged rock, lay the proverbial lady of the house. The strange woman was on her back, arms crossed beneath her head, looking lost in thought as she stared up at the core.

He hadn’t known what he expected to see in here, but it certainly wasn’t this. Glancing down at his feet, he lifted one and checked for a safe spot to move it to. He nearly lost his balance when one of the larger mushroom caps proceeded to stand up out of the dirt, step aside, and point to the space in which it had sat not a moment ago. Two beady little eyes stared up at him expectantly.

“What in all the gods realms…?” he muttered, baffled, only to be caught off guard when he received a response.

“I made them. They help me tend to my network.” the dungeon replied. Just what the world needed. Even MORE leshies… Logan bit back the comment, deciding to do as he was bid, and step in the space provided. The soft little creature then trundled forward to another spot, pointing it out to him. Bit by bit, he hopped carefully among the fungi until reaching the clearer space near the center of the room. The Manglegrove waved distractedly up at him from where she lay. “ ‘Sup?”

Logan lifted an eyebrow. It was all the communication needed between the pair at this point, she knew when she needed to explain her strange idioms.

“Sorry. It’s a greeting. What do you need, bro?” she asked, eyes finally settling firmly onto him. Logan checked for more mushrooms and, seeing none, sat down on the ground beside her.

“You’ve been in here a while.” he said softly, his voice disturbing the silence of the space in a way hers somehow did not. “I came to check on you. Brought you a gift to lift your spirits.” He set the bundle down between them. She glanced at it, but then turned back to him.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her voice sounded tremulous, as though she was holding back a flood of emotions. Was that guilt he saw in her eyes?

“Me?” Logan exclaimed. “I’m worried about YOU.”

“I’m f-” she cut herself off. “Well, no. I’m not fine. But I will be. I’ve just had a lot on my mind.” The fiery woman pulled herself up into a seated position beside him, sighing heavily. “When I had to send you away, I was so scared that something was going to happen to you.” she explained. “Those kids out there need you.”

“Is that why you’ve been hiding away in here?” He asked, keeping his tone gentle.

“Partially. I… I remembered some things. When that creature grabbed me, it made me relive some things I’d somehow forgotten up until now.”

Logan nodded, making a deep hum of confirmation, unsure of what to say for fear of prying.

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“You are such a dude.” the spirit chuckled.

“A what?”

“Nevermind. The point is, I remembered it. The night I died.” She finally met his gaze. “And who killed me.”

“Feck all.” he breathed, mind turning over the notion as he tried to imagine what she was feeling. To have the knowledge now, in this place that was so far from her home, unable to act on it. For all he wanted to help, what was there to do besides listen. “Who?”

“I had a-“ she trailed off, looking for a word. “A lover.” Logan’s eyes widened at the thought.

“And he killed you?” He asked, aghast.

“No. Her brother did.”

Logan leaned back against the pillar, letting that sink in for a moment.

“Gods below… Murdered by kin.” he shook his head in disbelief. “Why?”

“For exactly what you’d expect.” she answered with a wry smirk that didn’t reach her eyes. Logan must have looked as lost as he felt, though, because when she caught sight of his face, she seemed surprised.

“He was super ho-“ she paused, rethinking her words. “He didn’t like-“ she stopped again, apparently stuck.

“I have trouble imagining that you didn’t treat his sister well.” he offered up, supportively.

“It wasn’t that. Sorry, gotta find a way to say it that wouldn’t just be confusing.” she explained. “He hated that his sister was with another woman. Doubly so for a woman like me.” That gave him another pause, fumbling to imagine what that meant. He’d heard some elvish folk could get into a proper snit over intermarriage…

“Like you? A human?” she actually laughed, though it was brief and muted. Still, it warmed him to see.

“It probably sounds crazy to you, but in my home humans are all there is. At least as far as sentient beings go. The rest all died out.”

“What?! How?!” Logan exclaimed in shock.

“Changing climates and competition from earlier human ancestors, mostly. We even used to have something kind of like you. Homo Floresiensis. Died off about fifty thousand years ago if I recall.” the vibrant, if exhausted looking, specter explained. Logan felt his jaw drop open at the sheer volume of questions that statement brought to his mind. How did they know what happened so long ago? How did his people die off? What would a world with only a single people be like? He must have become lost in thought for some time because he returned to reality upon realizing his host had just spoken and he’d missed it.

“Sorry, what?” he asked, distractedly.

“Liv.” she repeated. “Earlier, you called me Manglegrove. My name is actually Liv. Manglegrove was a name I made up to try and sound scary and keep those cultists away.” Logan opened his mouth to ask her why she had felt the need to hide that from him back then, but the question died unspoken. She hadn’t known him. Not really. He might have done the same to a suspicious stranger on the road.

“Right then.” he said with a nod. “Well then. It’s nice to meet you, Liv.” Finally, her smile seemed to shine through with genuine happiness as she leaned slightly against him. He had a feeling it had been quite a while since someone had spoken her proper name. The moment lingered, carried by warm, companionable silence and twinkling mushrooms.

“So. You mentioned a gift?” Mangl… Liv… asked, pointing to the bundle.

“I did!” he affirmed with a grin, grabbing the rolled papers. “I remembered what you said when we marched out.” Liv’s eyes lit up as he rolled out a map. She leaned in excitedly as he pinned down the corners with a few river stones, and he watched as her expression went from energetic enthusiasm, to thoughtful inspection, and then stunned confusion. The large map depicted the whole of the Commonwealth, and even into some of the neighboring kingdoms. He pointed to the great river that snaked along the entire western border, and traced it slowly downward.

“This long, thin bit that runs along the river? That’s Ástórrlǫg. If you follow the river down all the way to where it flows into the sea-” he dragged his finger down past several other settlements like Knörrhoff and Lagarheim, down to the familiar port. “You’ll find Njörvenn. That’s where I come from. Maybe an hour or two from here at a steady walk.” He glanced up, expecting her to look less befuddled, but it seemed his explanation had not cured her of the condition.

“This map…” she mumbled, only half speaking to him. “It’s…” Her eyes finally focused on him. “I know this map.”

“Really? Shite. I thought I remembered you saying you wanted to see one.” he apologized.

“I did. That’s not what I meant.” She pointed to a peninsula to the southeast of them. A smaller province Logan had never visited, called Blómveg. “That-” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. “That looks suspiciously like Florida.” Logan glanced between her and the map, entirely lost. “And up here!” Her finger drifted north. “Those are the great lakes! And Maine!!”

“Dunno about any ‘Maine’, that’s Vinland. But those are the great lakes.” he explained, wracking his brain to see if he’d heard any of her strange place names before. Now the normally fierce looking woman was displaying a kind of academic glee he’d only ever seen Magne display until now.

“So that means this is the Mississippi! And we’re..” She trailed off, her expression souring. Then she raised both of her middle fingers to the sky and roared. “Those damned buzzards dropped me in FUCKING FANTASY LUISIANA?!? WHAT DID I EVER DO TO YOU?! HUH?!”

Logan cringed, flinching at her habit of openly taunting the gods. In the momentary silence that followed, he was about to chastise her for risking their anger. Then the deep, metallic cawing of ravens made his blood run cold.