The first strike came with terrifying speed. A Venomwing darted down, claws extended, and raked across Ulrick’s shield with a shrill screech. Another buzzed past Brill’s shoulder, narrowly missing him.
“Get to cover!” Ulrick barked, raising his shield as another Venomwing slammed into it. The impact jarred his arm, but the creature fell dead at his feet, its wings crumpled.
The forest erupted into chaos. Nole fired arrows into the air, her keen eyes tracking the swift-moving creatures. “They’re too fast!” she growled as most of her shots missed, though a lucky arrow caught one in the thorax, sending it spiraling to the ground.
Brill, grinning grimly, raised his staff and sent a wave of fire into the swarm. The flames engulfed two Venomwings mid-dive, their fragile wings turning to ash. “Burn, you little bastards!” he shouted, the smell of scorched chitin filling the air.
Meanwhile, Vin crouched behind Ulrick, using him as a living shield. Despite his usual reluctance to fight, he swung his staff wildly, managing to smack one Venomwing out of the air. “Got one!” he exclaimed, his voice more surprised than triumphant.
Gale, however, was struggling. A Venomwing struck him square in the face, knocking him onto his back into a shallow pool of water. He scrambled to his feet, swaying as another creature rammed into his stomach, forcing him to one knee. Above him, two more Venomwings dived with stingers poised to strike.
“Gale! Hold still!” Brill shouted, sending a jet of fire over Gale’s head. The flames consumed the diving creatures, their charred remains falling harmlessly to the ground. Gale staggered upright, his hair singed and a trickle of blood running down his temple, but he was alive.
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The fight ended as abruptly as it began. The swarm dispersed, leaving several Venomwing corpses scattered on the wet ground. The cavern grew quiet, the absence of the swarm’s buzzing almost unnerving.
“Everyone okay?” Ulrick asked, his shield still raised.
“I’ll live,” Gale muttered, wiping blood from his forehead. His voice was strained but steady.
The group gathered near one of the massive mushrooms for cover. Nole knelt by one of the fallen Venomwings, her eyes glinting with fascination as she examined its glowing wings. “Look at these patterns… They’re beautiful,” she said, running a finger gently along the delicate membrane.
Brill snorted. “Yeah, beautiful poison delivery systems.”
The team noticed the sharp claws on the creature’s legs and the stinger at the end of its tail, still dripping venom even in death. “Vile little things,” Ulrick muttered, nudging one of the corpses with his boot.
As they rested, Vin distributed anti-toxins from their packs. The burning pain of the Venomwings’ poison began to fade, though the exhaustion lingered.
“Those things are bad news for any team without shield users,” Gale said quietly, surprising everyone with the gravity of his tone. He glanced at Ulrick. “If you hadn’t kept Vin intact, we’d have been in serious trouble.”
The others stared, taken aback by Gale’s maturity. Nole grinned slyly and sidled up to him, tapping a finger on his nose. “Awww! Ulrick! Look how our little man has grown after his first real swarm in a dungeon!”
Gale’s face turned beet red as the group burst into laughter. Even Vin cracked a rare smile, though he quickly readied a healing spell for Gale’s flustered state.
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As their laughter died down, a faint sensation rippled through the air—small bursts of pressure that felt almost… like laughter. The group froze, glancing around uneasily.
Ulrick’s eyes drifted upward, locking onto an oculnid perched on the underside of a mushroom, its unblinking gaze fixed on them. “Those eyespider things really are unsettling,” he muttered. “They could blink, for starters.”
Reassured that no more Venomwings were on the attack, the team resumed their journey, the weight of the dungeon’s watchful presence pressing down on them.
Brother and Sister:
Tasty bush… juicy… full of flavor. It has been some time since the crackglow went dark. My lower siblings are hungry. We move to the green patch, where they can eat their fill. Proud, I watch them chew, their movements bringing comfort. Across the herd, my sister stands watch, vigilant as always. When she’s certain no danger lurks, she crouches to gather some green for herself. Even Wendren must eat, though always while guarding the lower siblings.
I kneel as well, plucking a handful of the green patch for my meal. The air is wet and warm—a balm in my lungs as I tilt my head back to savor it. But the peace is shattered by a sound. A rustling too far away to be one of the herd.
My breath halts. My head snaps toward the noise, and a low hum escapes my throat. It carries over the herd, and ears spring up in unison. My sister hears it too. She reaches for her weapon—a sturdy mushroom branch. I do the same, grabbing my branch and feeling its weight between my three fingers. My fingerparasite stirs, its segments digging into the branch’s skin and tying it tightly to my hand. The sting as it latches to my flesh is sharp, but welcome. It is ready. I hum my approval to it.
The rustling grows louder. I shift, planting myself beside the herd, while my sister mirrors me on the opposite side. The lower siblings press together, forming a tight cluster, their instincts guiding them to appear larger. My sister and I stand as their guardians.
And then it happens.
A strange stick flies through the air before we can react. It strikes the siblingflock in their center, and a gasp ripples through them. I glance at my sister, motioning with a tilt of my head. Together, we step forward. The predators have shown themselves, and we will defend the flock.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
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We move quickly now. Another stick flies, embedding itself in my sister’s stomach. She pauses to glance at the wound, but it seems to cause her little pain. Bold predators, these are. My mushroom branch will split their skulls.
There is movement ahead. Bushes shake, revealing four small creatures. They walk like us, on two legs, but their forms are clumsy and strange. Their skins glint unnaturally—metal-like, disgusting. One holds a shield that gleams like a mushroom cap. Another has a green, firm skin. Two of them wear loose fur that almost touches the ground. Disgusting things! So strange, so alien, so fat. They must have eaten the herd of another guardian. But they will not feast on mine!
I charge, raising my branch high. It crashes down on the gleaming one, but he blocks it with his glittering stick. So small, yet so resilient. A sharp pain stings my side—a stick lodged in my flesh. I growl and press forward, ignoring it.
Beside me, my sister groans in pain. Her fist crashes through fire, slamming into a small one and sending it flying. She is strong, but she smells… wrong. Her brown skin is blackened, blistering like the wood we burn for light at night. Yet fury drives her forward. She rushes the glinting predator, her fists pounding on its cap. A loud clang echoes as her strength meets the shimmering shield.
I turn my focus to a smaller predator, less armored. I grab its leg and hurl it behind a mushroom. My attention follows, and I see a fifth one—hidden. This one holds a thin stick, which spits another stick at me. It pierces my stomach, and green lifewater spills from the wound. My strength begins to fade, but I cannot falter.
A loud thud draws my gaze. My sister lies motionless, her skin torn open at the neck, her voice silent. Her parasites squirm in panic as her glow dims to nothing.
Too much. This is too much. I must save the herd.
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I flee, tears blurring my vision as I run. The herd follows my loud hum, understanding my distress. A guardian has fallen. We must escape.
When the predators are out of sight, I stop. Alone now. My sister is gone, a guardian lost in duty. I kneel and scoop a handful of mud from the wet ground. Half my skull shall be brown, so all will see. The other half, pristine bone, is for her. She has gone to the heartbeat.
My hand presses the mud firmly to my face, and when I stand, the glow of my eye shines through its veil. The lower siblings nuzzle me, sensing my grief. Their warmth steadies me as tears of sorrow mix with the mud of the mushroom forest.
I straighten. I cannot falter. I am the guardian now.
We will warn the others. These monsters are dangerous. They must know. The predators have come to our home.
The Guides:
Nole stepped out from behind a towering mushroom tree, brushing glowing spores from her shoulder with an annoyed flick. The rest of the team gathered slowly, battered and bruised. Even Vin, usually unshakable, stood up from where the creature had thrown him, his robes soaked in mud. He didn’t seem to care, though. His sharp eyes flicked between the others, taking silent stock of their injuries.
"What the heck were those things? Nole!" Ulrick’s voice was harsh but hushed, his face twisted in a mix of anger and disbelief. "Why did you fire that arrow? Are you insane?!"
“What!?” Nole’s expression turned defensive as she jabbed a finger in his direction. “I saw them through the bushes! They had clubs, Ulrick! Clubs! It looked like they were about to attack us!”
Ulrick’s glare could have cut through steel. “They weren’t even moving toward us, Nole. Do you have any idea what you just did? We’re on an unexplored dungeon floor, and you started a fight with whatever the hell those were!”
Before she could respond, Brill, his face pale and pained, waved a hand between them. “Both of you, quiet. We’re still in a dungeon,” he muttered, clutching his stomach. His fire magic had burned away the creature’s weapon, but not before its fist had connected solidly with his side. He winced as he adjusted his stance, his other hand still pressed firmly against the aching bruise.
Nearby, Gale knelt on the damp ground, holding his sword with a look of devastation. The blade, once straight and reliable, now curved sharply, bent nearly forty-five degrees. “That thing was expensive…” he murmured, his voice thick with grief as he inspected the ruined weapon. “I spent half my savings on this…”
A warm, golden light surrounded the group as Vin cast his healing magic, starting with Brill. “Too strong. Too thin. And… run away. Strange,” he murmured, his words calm and measured even as the glow of his magic began to fade.
Ulrick, rubbing his chin in thought, glanced in the direction the surviving Wendren had fled. His brow furrowed. “Vin’s right. Dungeon monsters don’t run away. They fight until they’re dead, no exceptions. What is going on with this place?” His voice trailed off, the frustration in his tone replaced with growing unease.
“Creature was humming,” Vin added, his voice distant, as if recounting a vivid memory. “Voice beautiful. Communicating? Unknown.”
Brill, now standing a bit straighter thanks to Vin’s magic, frowned. “Humming? I… I thought I imagined it.” He gestured toward the mud-streaked clearing where the battle had taken place. “But now that you mention it, they didn’t fight like dungeon monsters either. They guarded, protected the herd. And when the other one ran…” He glanced at Ulrick. “It felt like it was mourning.”
“Mourning?” Nole scoffed, crossing her arms. “Come on, Brill. They’re just dungeon monsters. Weird ones, sure, but still monsters.”
Ulrick’s gaze hardened as he turned back toward her. “We don’t know that, Nole. And you’d better hope you didn’t just piss off something smarter than us.” His words lingered in the air like the faint echoes of the fight, a reminder of how little they truly understood about Adrian’s dungeon.
The group fell silent, the wet sounds of the mushroom forest filling the void. Somewhere far off, faint humming echoed again, haunting and melodic. Gale shivered. “That sound… I think it’s following us.”
Ulrick turned sharply toward the source of the noise, scanning the darkness between the mushrooms. “We’re leaving. Now.”
No one argued. The team gathered their gear, patching themselves up as best they could before moving deeper into the forest. Their steps were cautious, their eyes constantly darting to the shadows. The once-mesmerizing glow of the bioluminescent forest now felt oppressive, its beauty hiding dangers they couldn’t begin to comprehend.
As they walked, Vin spoke quietly, almost to himself. “Not beasts. Not mindless. Something more. Too close. Too human.”
Ulrick didn’t respond. But the grim set of his jaw said enough. Whatever the Wendren were, this dungeon was unlike any they had ever faced.
Just moments later:
The still-twitching parasites within the burned and beaten Wendren's body went eerily still. Then, without warning, thin white strands burst through the charred remnants of what was once skin, writhing and spreading like roots searching for sustenance. In a heartbeat, the transformation began—giant mushroom caps, veined and luminescent, erupted from its back with grotesque speed, their growth accompanied by wet, squelching sounds.
The body jerked violently, convulsing as if struggling against unseen chains. The red glow of its lifeless eyes faded, only to be replaced moments later by an otherworldly blue light that pulsed like a heartbeat in the dark. Slowly, unsteadily, it staggered to its knees, its new fungal burden swaying unnaturally with every movement.
Where once lay the fallen Wendren, now stood a two-legged corpsecap colony, its form a macabre blend of flesh and fungal growth. Bioluminescent mycelium crawled across its body in glowing patterns, the tendrils pulsating softly with an almost hypnotic rhythm. It swayed slightly, as if adjusting to its new existence.
Then it froze. The creature’s head tilted upward, its glowing eyes scanning the darkness. A scent. Something had awoken it. The colony leaned forward, a low creaking noise emanating from its form as it took its first step. The scent beckoned, and it would follow—until the one who disturbed its slumber was consumed.