The man frowned, for upon his garden the bugs feasted. Asleep for eons, his garden had been reduced to food, a shadow of what wonder it once was. With a singsong voice, the man danced, bringing verdant growth and insectile death where he walked. Lesser plagues had come upon his garden. He was a [Gardener] both in Class and profession, and there were none better than he. But to say he was simply a [Gardener] was misleading, he was a specialized Class. But as the story goes, no one is certain exactly what. That day, he birthed more than life, he birthed sentience.
- Origins of the Races
"A myconid?"
Jayke stared at the mushroom man - the myconid.
"What manner of species are you?" He undeniably spoke, without even a mouth to do so. Curiosity laced his every word almost as if the myconid presumed Jayke was the stranger of the two. "No doubt you are one of the Thinking Races. True, however, that not all are known." He mumbled to itself. His eyes alighted on Jayke's expression. "Apologies, stranger. We don't get many travelers this far into the Uncharted."
Of all the things he could've pictured himself saying to the next person he'd ever interact with. He hadn't expected the ones that came from his mouth being strictly necessary.
"I'm a human," Jayke said puzzled.
Both reddish myconids glanced each other, the fungal colors on their persons undulating oddly. "The species is not familiar to us." The other myconid spoke, and despite the odd form of communication, Jayke understood which was which.
The taller of the two, the first to speak introduced himself, lowering his gnarled spear. He rested it on its butt and Jayke spied flowers blooming within its knots. "I am Floon." He said in his weathered voice.
The other nodded. "And I am Jungu." The voice was younger and the myconid shorter. He gestured behind him. "And you have arrived at the Marketplace Between."
The words seemed grand, larger in his sentence. Jayke's eyes roamed. Blurry glittering desert sometimes too painful to look at acted as the backdrop to the entire market. It put every ware, every stall, and every kiosk into stark awareness. An oasis, like a whirlpool, pulled all activities toward it. Sparkling blue, he spotted a bustling mass of bodies. A crowd moving through the entire market. Customers. People.
As they spotted him taking in the sight their fungus took on similar shades. Emotion? His attention went back to the conversation at hand.
"I'm Jayke. Jayke Cipher." He responded jerkingly. "How are we talking?"
Floon turned and began walking, without anything better to do Jayke followed. The words that responded were no less muffled by the orientation of the speaker. "It is a myconid's right to bestow upon another the ability to communicate with all other myconids." He said. "You will not last here without the ability."
"What exactly is... here? And you're all... mushrooms? Like the forest back there?" Jayke was unashamed in his observations. Weird creatures were his hobby, after all. It was apparent he said something wrong.
Both myconids turned around, the grips on their spears tightened and Jayke's hands itched with the need to protect himself. Jungu jerked but Floon laid a strong hand on his counterpart. "Do not relate a myconid to a simple plant, stranger. To do so to one less understanding is death. As for Blueglow Forest, not many myconids live there. It is beautiful, yes, but also deadly. Not many can survive there unaided."
"I understand. My bad, I meant no insult." Jungu nodded at this. Then Jayke felt a shiver run down his spine. "Wait, Blueglow Forest? I came from there."
Jungu responded with surprise. "Then you are stronger than you look." He seemed to take in Jayke's clothing with odd significance. Jayke's focus was between the directed scrutiny and wonder of this odd bazaar.
Floon spoke, "For a lone traveler to traverse Blueglow is a feat indeed. You may bring great fortune to the Marketplace then."
Jayke wondered what death he had just dodged, but focused on Floon. "What exactly is this place? What is the Marketplace?" By now they had penetrated the mass of people, and though no one spoke aloud, Jayke heard the hustle and bustle of people speaking. Merchants and store owners hounding customers and showcasing wares.
Floon shoved a few myconids back. They retaliated slightly but let up upon seeing the reddish color of both Jungu and Floon. They held small cups of water, sloshing and wetting sand as they went. They stomped with their spears and the crowd parted slightly.
Without prompt, he continued. "The Marketplace Between is the market betwixt many environments. In this section of the Uncharted, it is without a doubt one of the epicenters of trade. As [Guards] it is our duty to keep the peace and escort travelers to the merchants within." Sand dust covered the crowd, a result of hundreds of scuffling feet.
"Floon," Jayke shielded his mouth from the sand. "I'm not sure I have the money." His mind went immediately to what he could purchase. And despite this Uncharted nonsense, he desired a map, only he didn't have any money. The closest stalls within his view was one dedicated to weaponry and other for various containers of water.
"What is money?" Floon asked. An interesting wave of color flowed down his entirety. Jungu also seemed curious since both stared at Jayke.
"How do I buy things?" Jayke reiterated.
"Ah, he means trade, Floon." The younger myconid nodded.
"Do you have anything of worth?" Floon questioned him, examining his attire. "The cloth adorning you is of exceptional make, though I doubt any would barter for it. None except those interested in odd fashion, especially for a myconid. Perhaps the dwellers or the desert people."
Jayke presented a small red berry, about the size of his thumb. "I've got some berries."
"Then your best bet would be an [Alchemist]." Floon judged.
They had been making their way to the oasis the entire conversation. Once they arrived, like the rest of the myconids, Floon and Jungu simply stepped into the shallow waters. There were other people too, not just myconids and Jayke stared at them, between gulps of water as Floon suggested.
The [Guard] caught him staring. "The desert people. Dwei. We have some dwei [Guards]. And the other people you're likely to run into, the dwellers, the ones from below. There are many types of them but the most common is the caven. Be prepared traveler the Marketplace Between attracts many. It is a good place to be familiar with."
They made to leave, stepping out of the sparkling oasis. "Wait." Jayke called after them. "Where can I find a map? And an [Alchemist]?"
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
"You'll be needing to find the [Alchemist] first if you're wanting a map. If those berries are any good you'll be given compensation or pointed toward a food stall. The [Alchemist] is closest, beside the oasis in the direction of Blueglow. From there, you'll find a place selling maps directly across the oasis, opposite Blueglow and right up against the Desert Blurr."
They walked off, reddish hue melding into the many blue-tinted myconids bustling about. Some were colored differently, but the majority were blue.
Skirting the oasis and drinking when his thirst called for it, he made his way through the crowd. Myconid children, short and stout played in the sand with dwei younglings. Other unidentifiable little ones were running between them all. They knocked into Jayke and a sixth sense had him clutching at his pockets.
He deflected a hand or three and the children scurried away yipping and booing. "Pickpockets." Jayke spoke distastefully.
He needed a map. For that, he needed to sell his berries, and because no other profession might identify that the berries he had were indeed useful, he needed to see an [Alchemist]. Then he could find someone selling a map.
Eventually, he came to a shaded store, with thick enough burlap that the constant wind did nothing to disturb anyone in its shade. Heavy fabric protected and held the entire thing down. Jayke walked inside upon seeing various plants, herbs, and what looked to be tonics of all sorts littering the front of the shop.
"Hello?" Jayke ventured, his voice muffled in the quiet shop. The wind outside was loud but muted, whipping periodically at the shop's walls with a soft whump.
"Yes, a customer? How may I help you?" A very thin myconid pried itself from the wall. It had a long body with a very wide umbrella. Its arms and legs tapered into thin fingers and toes. The type that looked ideal for a delicate job. "Oh, very strange. A very strange one, yes." The myconid spoke, unshy in its obvious scrutiny of Jayke.
Before the shopkeep could catch a breath, Jayke presented a single berry, having some inkling of their worth. "What can you give me for this?" He held is unassumingly in his palm and witnessed the color undulate through the shopkeep's mushrooms.
"That? A single berry. Surely, you jest, stranger. It is worth nothing." He rambled, but caught himself. "Nearly nothing, equal weight in sand to trade for such small a berry."
"I know what it can do." Jayke closed his hand holding the berry and putting it in his pocket. "I know what it's worth. What can you offer me?"
"Three potions, medium potency. Name them, if I have them, they're yours." The myconid adjusted himself and peered at Jayke.
"Healing, do you have them?"
"Are you mad? You need these berries to make healing potions."
"And how many potions can you make from a single berry?"
The myconid slowed. The fungal ecosystems across his torso moved in cool colors. "I cannot make enough from that single berry to justify three healing potions of medium potency. It is impossible."
Jayke realized by now neither he nor the [Alchemist] could read each other. Whether one bluffed or lied neither could tell. "Then forget the potions. Neither you or I are familiar with each other's race to detect social nuance, correct?"
The myconid paused but seemed to relax, its colors less stiff. "This is true, yes."
"Shall we forget the potions then? And be upfront and honest in our dealings?"
The myconid acquiesced. "I rue the day I run into another one such as you with the [Merchant] Class." He chuckled. "But yes, let us presume honesty. What do you ask for these berries?" The myconid began.
Jayke smiled, knowing the myconid would not recognize the gesture and didn't fall for the bait.
"For this single berry," Jayke emphasized, staring acutely at the mushroom-man. "I would ask for a map. The best one I could get with it."
"A reliable one, I presume?" The [Alchemist] asked. The question was more for himself than for Jayke. "I have some maps in-store. I can vouch for their reliability, I've used them for herb hunting many times. Enough so, that I have them memorized. They cover the Marketplace Between, Blueglow Forest, portions of the Desert Blurr, and stretch towards the Mountains of Rune."
"What are the Mountains of Rune?" Jayke asked, assuming that the Desert Blurr was, in fact, the blurry desert he had been seeing recently.
"The great floating mountains? Surely, you have seen them?" The myconid seemed surprised at Jayke's naivety. He turned in place, as if to indicate the mountains beyond the shop.
Jayke recalled them. "Ahh, those ones." The map would then cover everything he had seen from his tree perch earlier in the day. "The detailing on these maps?" He urged, still in wonderment at the fact he was interacting with someone. After all this time alone. Even if it was a myconid. He relished it.
"Points of interest, herb families, distances." The myconid then shifted a hesitant yellow, its long fingers tapping on the counter. "There is something of worth in those maps, however. I am not sure a single heal berry is worth the barter."
"What would it take then?" Jayke pressed.
"A single heal berry and where you found it." The myconid shot onto the question like an arrow to a deer.
Jayke grinned. "I'd need a map to show you."
After introductions, it turned out the myconid's name was Terk. Long spindly fingers furtively took the heal berry from Jayke's open palm and made his way into the back of his shop. He returned a berry less and a map or two more. Unfurling the maps proved educational as Jayke's eyes scanned the document. They carefully overlapped to form the complete picture. He traced his path using the Marketplace Between, indicated as a large circle on the rough parchment, as a reference. His finger ran off the charted portions of the map and onto blank parchment.
"There!?" Terk exclaimed. "You come from beyond Blueglow?" He said in bewilderment. "This must be your first encounter with my people then. The area you've indicated." He gestured. "That is the Wyldergrowth, stranger Jayke. Foes too dangerous and numerous exist there. If one can avoid it, it is a good thing to do." He hummed, a mental sound in Jayke's head. " Hmm, but this is not the first time treasures have been known to exist in the Wyldergrowth, at the very least I know there are now heal berries too." Terk hummed to himself in thinking, looking at Jayke with odd scrutiny.
"I traveled the Wyldergrowth for a time then, yes." Jayke confirmed. He ignored the stare of the [Alchemist] understanding that the less he said the better. He needed to understand this world before he spouted anything about himself. "And this something of worth?" Jayke reminded him.
"You are interesting, stranger Jayke." Terk seemed to give it up, turning his attention to the map rather than the human across from him. "There in the Desert Blurr, you may see it indicated." Terk's long finger jabbed the point of interest on the map. It was a small square, colored green where nothing else was. "Years ago I traveled out in search of desert herbs that bloomed in the moonlight. It was there I found a Dungeon. I did not near enough to know its name, alone I would die before I had the chance to read it."
"What is a Dungeon?" Jayke asked.
"A place of great riches and powers," Terk responded. "Successfully delving into a dungeon may reward someone with many levels and Skills. They are places of great danger and mystery." Terk huffed. "Best to be avoided and left to the foolhardy." The myconid's fungus presented an odd assortment of colorings, but Jayke paid it no mind.
"You seem fairly against them," Jayke observed, having furled up the maps and now perusing the shop for what it was. "Ever fancy yourself an explorer, Terk?" A near year in isolation and anyone would be talking to mushrooms.
"When I was foolish and young, as all young stalks do." Terk shook his umbrella crest, rearranging potions on the shelves. He said no more on the subject but, taking Jayke's lead, asked a more personal question. "And you, friend? Where might you be heading? Seeking mystery as I did, perhaps?"
Terk brought up the question mulling in Jayke's mind the past few days. The question held weight like nothing else did and Jayke, confronted, was forced to respond in kind. The response that bubbled forth was as honest and simple as Jayke could've feasibly answered.
"Maybe I just want to travel, you know? Explore a bit. Become worldly. Make some friends, meet people. Find my family."
The last part came out as naturally as breathing. But it left his lungs like ripping knives, staggering and stabbing. Hope. Pain. Possibility. It came before he could've done anything about it. Could his family be here, transported through those pods as he was? Did they travel through the rainbow sea and grasp power unimaginable?
The pain stung, it hurt. But like a bandaid, it was fleeting and felt better already. Similarly, the affected area was now ready to be hurt again. For Jayke, that was the scariest part. That, after all this time, there was the possibility he had friends and family still out there. That he hadn't needed to give them mental funerals or accept their deaths. That he could after nearly a year, hope.
Terk paused and shifted blue and green, there was no way for the myconid to glean anything from Jayke's expressions. He simply didn't know what they meant. Yet the myconid managed to say something good.
"A good goal. Partly done, too." Terk shifted a lighter blue. "You have met me, Jayke. And you may call me friend. Few do." He said. "As for your family, I do not think I have met your kind before. Certainty not here or in my travels."