It took them the better part of a day to reach the city, with a stop to camp for the night along the way. There was a nervous energy in the party as they came closer to their destination, and by their tired faces the next morning he suspected they got less sleep than they would’ve liked.

Himself, Lucas mostly felt a dull resignation. He’d been here before—spent a week inside the verdant overgrowth—and his awe for Pentaburgh’s grand architecture had worn off long ago. The domed hall he’d woken in still loomed large in his mind, but the idea of returning there brought him little ardour. Quite the opposite.

Even Jamie didn’t seem to be enthused about coming back here, his hackles rising. It sent an odd sensation through Lucas’ mana system, tinged with feline emotion. His little monstercat friend was scared, which made Lucas feel awful. He tried to send comfort through their bond, but wasn’t sure if it worked. The creature seemed bigger. More… more. He didn’t know what to make of that.

The party’s anticipation only grew as they navigated the undulating hills on their approach. It felt like every time they crested the top of a grassy hill the city loomed twice as large, and they were soon able to pick out details.

“I see the Great Summoning Hall,” Wick said with reverence. “It must be enormous.”

“If it weren’t for that and the towers, you might not spot the city at all from a distance; it’d blend in with the hills,” Rena said, squinting through the morning haze. “I suppose that’s why they call it the Lost City. I always thought it was because the city had been lost to a demon.”

“I’m thankful we happened across a floramancer,” Jyn said. “Burning my way through that would have been an arduous task.”

The Skycloak said nothing, her eyes thoughtful. Lucas found he had nothing to contribute either. He was growing less enthusiastic by the second, cursing his past self for going along with this. And then immediately feeling like a whiny shithead when the thought passed; no matter how he felt about the place, he wasn’t going to let it claim anyone else. There’d be no more abandoned bones.

He was, on the other hand, trying to come up with ways to get the party to abandon their quest at the last moment. He wasn’t having much luck.

The city grew and grew, the towers looming ever higher. Eventually the hills flattened out and they stepped out onto a wildly overgrown flat plain about a mile long that had probably once been farmland. The city was a green blob in the distance, with five fingers spearing up to the sky, only the marble white of the domed keep breaking the pattern of greens and blues. The final stretch was covered in silence, each of the other members of the party lost in their thoughts.

It struck him then that none of the others had actually been here. The city was a story to them. A legend, even. All they knew of it were from second-hand accounts, and those accounts weren’t necessarily reliable. As far as he knew, he could be the only person alive who’d been inside and made it out alive. It was entirely possible he was the world’s foremost expert on the interior of Pentaburgh.

Natural bushes and brambles posed little obstacle to Lucas’ floramancy, and they arrived at the base of the walls when the sun was just reaching its zenith, illuminating the massed tangle of verdure that seemed too big to be real. The party was still for a long time, all of its members staring at the solid wall of plants before them.

Lucas had seen this place before and felt little more than loathing for it now, but he had to admit it was quite the sight, especially considering it was seemingly an important place to his comrades. It hit him harder than he thought it would. It was one thing for it to sit in his memory, but to be this close to the dense mass of foliage in real life still afflicted him with memories he’d rather stay buried. He was being irrational, he told himself. He’d survived in this place when he barely had a clue what he was doing. The demon infecting the plants hadn’t been able to get him then, and it certainly wouldn’t now.

It was hard for those thoughts to take root when he was staring at a working of floramancy so vast it was impossible to even comprehend how it was done; he appreciated its scale all the more now that his understanding of plant magic had grown. The sheer power required to cover so much ground, to control so many plants… It had Lucas wondering how this world had survived a hundred years, if demons could perform feats like this.

The overgrowth had spilled out of the city like a flood, gradually declining in height from the outer walls until there was just a tangle of vines and branches snaking across the dirt. The actual walls of the city were barely visible beneath the giant vines, looking like a long row of cramped green fangs where much of the stone had fallen away. The most intact parts of the walls had to be ten metres high, and from here little of the innards of the city were visible, just two of the nearer towers looming large.

Wick broke the silence with an uncharacteristically frightful tone. “The stories don’t do it justice.”

“Yes. While I won’t give up my disdain for superstitious fools, I can understand how floramancy gained the stigma it did among the uneducated, after seeing it with my own eyes,” Jyn said. “No offence meant, Ser Rian.”

“None taken,” Lucas said. He kind of got it too, imagining mediaeval peasants standing where he stood, beholding this sight. Or running from it, rather.

The Skycloak drew in a deep breath, then spent a moment with her head bowed. When she looked up once more, her eyes were filled with determination. “Let’s go over our plans,” she said. Reaching into her cloak, she pulled out a rolled up scroll and kneeled down to flatten it on the grass. It was a map drawn on thick, cloth-like paper, and Lucas was shocked to see how detailed and precise it was. He was even more shocked when the Skycloak swiped a finger across a line at the side of the drawing, and the map zoomed out.

Jyn noticed his bafflement. “Iconomancy,” he said. “The magic of symbols and images. Very useful, if too expensive to be practical for most of us.”

The other three crouched around it at either side, Jyn and Rena on opposite ends, and Jyn across from the Skycloak. Lucas ended up taking a position behind the Skycloak. She moved aside a little so he didn’t have to lean over her shoulder.

The city, Lucas realised as he looked at the map, was a giant pentagon divided into five concentric zones by smaller pentagonal walls, with five straight walls that ran from the central pentagon at the centre to the points of the pentagonal outer walls further dividing the city.

Lucas frowned at the map. That… wasn’t the impression of the city he’d gotten from piggybacking on the plant life’s connected mana.

It must be an old drawing. The plants have probably torn down half these walls or more.

“We approached from the West,” the Skycloak said, tapping her finger against the Western wall of the city plan. She glanced up at the city itself with a grimace. “But we don’t know precisely where we stand right now, and landmarks will be difficult to discern. If we can locate Rian’s Gate, we’ll have a much easier time following the initial plan.”

“No guarantee it’s still standing,” Rena said, lacking any of the usual hostility she showed towards the Skycloak.

“This is the moment when we must hear your capabilities with floramancy, Ser Rian,” Jyn said.

Lucas nodded slowly, taking a moment to think on his answer. “It’s pretty simple. By pushing my mana out in a bubble around me, I can feel and manipulate nearby plant life.”

“Range?” the Skycloak asked.

“About ten metres right now. So far, any plant within reach of my mana is mine to control as I see fit. It’s easier to get a plant to do something it knows how to do, but I can push for unnatural changes and behaviours with more mana. Plants don’t have that much will in them to resist. It’s there, but easily overcome.”

“Do you believe you can keep the demon’s plants off of us? It’s important you be honest here,” the Skycloak said.

Lucas knew he could, but he suspected voicing that would be construed as overconfidence. As far as they knew, he had no reason to be so certain. It was meant to be a demon, after all. “I think so,” he said instead. He looked at the overgrowth overflowing the walls. “I can try now?” he offered.

The Skycloak nodded, and Lucas set to the task. It was a simple enough matter to infuse his mana into the plants, but he’d forgotten the feeling of another powerful will resisting him. Regular plants were pretty much docile, passive. It was hard to even call their instincts and desires will, compared to the (supposedly) demonic intelligence that watched over the plants in Pentaburgh.

But he’d been able to overpower it within days of discovering floramancy, and really the difference here was comparable to having been pouring water through empty pipes for days, only to find himself dealing with pipes that already had water in them. With a bit of effort, he forced the demon’s influence away and commanded the plants in his range to retract with a bit of mana to sweeten the deal. The nearby vines started crawling backwards, shrinking.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“It works,” Lucas said, feeling no triumph and not bothering to affect any. If anything, he was growing confused. From his experiences with beasts, he expected something similar with demons. But there was no feeling of chaos here, no warped or dark mana. It was just… floramancy. He voiced the question on his mind as he looked back at a suddenly more confident-looking group, “Can demons use magic?”

“They can,” the Skycloak said, staring down at her map with a thoughtful expression.

“Is their magic the same as ours?”

“There are similarities,” Jyn said. “Did you feel something strange in the plants?”

Lucas shook his head. “It didn’t feel strange to me at all. That’s the problem.”

“Demonic influence can be a subtle, insidious thing,” the Skycloak said. “They are not mindless beasts, but cunning and intelligent monsters, and that’s what makes them so dangerous.”

Lucas looked back at the city. He wasn’t so sure that was the case here. One of his first thoughts when battling with the overgrowth had been that it wasn’t particularly intelligent at all. But if the plants weren’t a demon’s ploy, what was going on here?

Curiosity taking him, Lucas retracted his mana to let the other will flow back in, then approached the nearest plant and placed his hand on it. With a pulse of mana, the vast network of plants covering the city appeared in his mind’s eye. It was a dizzying amount of mana, flowing through hundreds or even thousands of miles of pathways, forming one enormous mana system that connected an entire ecosystem of plants together.

Before, he’d used it primarily as a guide to orient himself in an unfamiliar place, and had piggy-backed on its connections between plants to force them to grow in ways that should have been physically impossible. Now, he watched the flow of the mana without interfering, focusing on where it went and the intentions behind it. The network was too vast to wrap his head around with his current understanding, so he narrowed his mana sense down to a smaller area, observing the plants nearby to him as the greater will worked on them.

Without his own will obstructing it, the supposedly demonic mana simply ordered the plants back into the shape it wanted them to be in. But why did it want them back in that shape? He didn’t feel like there was a greater picture here, no wider plan. It wasn’t even really reacting to him. It was just… reverting to default. Following a prewritten routine.

Lucas thought back to the times when it had adapted. Physically destroying plants with his stick had prompted it to retaliate with much more cunning than it was showing here. It had even almost got him, striking when an opportunity arose with Lucas’ cocky mistake. He’d lost his stick only for a moment, and it had seized its chance.

Was that it? It was reacting to threats, and floramancy didn’t register? It didn’t quite fit with what the others had told him, but…

“Ser Jyn,” Lucas called out, and the party paused. They’d been in quiet discussion, leaving Lucas to his magic. “Can you do me a favour, and burn a plant?”

There was a moment of silence. “Will any plant do?”

“One within my range,” Lucas said. “I want to see how it reacts to your fire.”

A second later, a mote of flame the size of a golf ball struck a nearby vine. It caught alight immediately, the mana infused in the technique presumably fueling the fire to burn hotter and longer than it otherwise would, allowing it to consume the plant. Judging by the heat it gave off, it likely would have gone on to burn away much of the plant life connecting to the affected plant, given time.

But the greater will in the plants reacted immediately.

Mana surged into the burning area from all directions, and the changes in the plants were faster than Lucas had ever seen, practically instant. The area directly surrounding the fire blackened and cracked, weeping glue-like white sap that gave off a chemical smell. Where it dripped on the fire, it expanded, swallowing the flame and, Lucas realised with shock, draining the mana Jyn had powered it with. The excess mana was carried back into the plants, where it grew into a bulbous light blue berry. The berry engorged with mana, and after a moment it burst, spurting out a thin stream of pale liquid that arced through the air like it’d been shot from a water pistol.

There was a yelp behind him, and Lucas spun to find a rapidly expanding cloud of shimmering mist wafting up from where the liquid had landed, right on the spot Jyn had been crouched in. The Wandmaster was lying in the grass to one side, with Wick’s arm around his neck, having pulled him away. Jyn stared at the glittering lights dancing in the mist, and a wry smile pulled at his blue lips.

“Iceblooms. A species from the far, far North. Known for the fire retardant juice in their berries,” Jyn said with a shaky laugh. “Inconvenient for a typical pyromancer. For me…”

A man made of fire would’ve been in deep trouble, Lucas thought. He abruptly found himself lending more credence to the demon plant theory. He swallowed, taking in the stunned members of the party. “You guys really did need a floramancer,” he said.

All four of them nodded.

~~~

They circled the city as a group, sticking close together. If the others had been wary of the demon plants before, they were outright paranoid now. Lucas was confident that it wouldn’t react with hostility to his floramancy—in fact it likely wouldn’t do anything unless provoked—but the Skycloak didn’t want to take the chance and no one was gainsaying her. Therefore, they kept a good distance from the walls as they walked.

Lucas had piggybacked on the plant demon’s mana to seek out the gate that had been mentioned—Rian’s Gate, one of five named after the prophesied heroes after four of the five’s arrival—but when he’d awkwardly explained this technique to the Skycloak, she’d instead directed him to seek out another, smaller entrance she’d described called the Worm’s Tunnel. Apparently, they’d find an easier route with that as their starting point.

The goal was, the Skycloak explained as they walked, to reach the summoning array itself. “I wish to study it myself, in person.” She glanced at Jyn. “See it with my own eyes, and come to my own conclusions.”

“Admirable,” the Wandmaster said without looking back. He’d been out of sorts ever since the earlier incident; Lucas reckoned he’d been working under the assumption he could burn away the plants, seeing himself as a greater pyromancer than any who’d previously tried. Clipped, one-word answers seemed to be his habit when he was discomfited.

Rena prowled at the front of the group like a cat on the hunt, her magically-enhanced eyes trained ahead. She had a blood red arrow nocked, though her bow was pointed down. “Is there anything in particular you expect to find?”

“Records on the summoning array used are vague on the details. Lady Claire was quite adamant about restricting access to knowledge of libremancy. I gather she wanted no more attempts at summoning.”

“And you took the opportunity afforded by Lady Claire leaving for whatever quest she’s on,” Rena said without looking back.

“So you know what Lady Claire’s up to, after all?” Wick asked. He was eyeing the overgrown city like the vines would come to life and attack at any moment. Lucas had given up trying to verbally reassure the man, instead placing himself a the right of the group, closest to the city.

He had to remind himself that these people had grown up with stories of the Lost City and the lives it had claimed. He knew it could kill, too. Fifty two graves.

“I never said I didn’t,” said the Skycloak. “But it’s irrelevant. Our quest is here. I intended to make a copy of the summoning array, but…” she trailed off, uncharacteristically hesitant. “I still wish to, but that may not be viable.”

“Underestimated the plant demon, eh?” Wick said. “Don’t worry, Swordmaiden. It seems that everyone does. Hells, we all did.”

They arrived at the site of the Worm’s Tunnel a few hours after they’d first reached the city walls. It would’ve been impossible to find without Lucas’ magic letting him sense through the plant network and the Skycloak already knowing what to look for; barely bigger than a set of double doors, it hid at the bottom of a section of wall at the North-West of the city, and apparently it had once been covered up with various magic doors that wouldn’t open except for people who knew secret unlocking techniques that had been exclusive to an order of thieves. The Worms, they’d called themselves. Naturally, the Skycloak knew these methods, found in a memoir written decades ago by the former leader of the group when he was on his deathbed.

Lucas was sure it would have been a very impressive thing to see, if the secret passage hadn’t already been busted open by the demon plants. A huge vine wide enough to fill up most of the corridor had smashed it all out of the way, which had made the tunnel remarkably easy to spot during his search. The Skycloak had given no outward sign of disappointment to this discovery, but Lucas wondered.

Giant vine aside, the entrance was covered by a thicket of bushes so dense it was practically a solid mass of plant the size of a block of houses. It took some time and effort to unravel the mess of tangled twigs enough to form a tunnel to the tunnel, and he had his work cut out for him in moving the massive vine after that. Since it was already well into the afternoon by that point, the Skycloak bade them camp for the night and breach the city in the morning.

The party had stayed well back as Lucas worked, and they insisted on moving away even further to camp. There was some concern about underground roots. Lucas didn’t know how they were going to handle camping inside the city if just this much was a problem, but he was outvoted and didn’t feel like sleeping alone without a lookout.

They set out away from the city once more, which gave Lucas a paradoxical feeling, both happy and frustrated. He was glad to put the city at his back, holding a tiny hope that his new comrades might abandon their plan to explore it and head off elsewhere. On the other hand, he knew that wasn’t going to happen and couldn’t help his exasperation at the extra walking. It didn’t matter if they were a metre or a mile away, the plants wouldn’t attack outside the network’s area of influence.

Quite to his surprise, this ended up causing somewhat of an unanticipated problem for him from an angle he hadn’t even considered. It was so stupid. This should have been one of the first things he thought of, but he’d been so disturbed by his experiences that he’d been putting it out of mind.

Rena was at the front of the group, her light-footed leaps carrying her further than they naturally should have, and she rounded, opening her mouth to speak. There, she paused, cocking her head to one side, her brows furrowing, mouth clicking shut as she squinted back at the city. “There’s something at the base of one of the walls,” she said. “On the ground. Little stones, arranged in rows. About fifty of them, I’d say?”

Lucas’ heart dropped as he followed her gaze. He hadn’t recognised the scenery on the walk out here, but looking back there were distantly familiar landmarks. Nothing that stood out, necessarily, just things he’d unconsciously noted as he passed them; particular bushes, small trees, and hills. Panning his gaze from the plains at their North and West to the city wall at their East, he could almost trace the line he’d taken away from the city, what felt like a lifetime ago now.

And at one end of that path were the graves he’d dug before he left.