Phyllis panted after she had put down her package. The icy air burned in her lungs, soon there would be snowfall. It was already in the air, the lingering smell. “Did you really think you could rescue that wretched old thing?” she turned to the source of the hateful words. “I thought they imprisoned you?” Phyllis turned fully to face Gajus, behind him was a horse, steam rose from the animal as he apparently had pushed it to its limits. “We had, but you see, the antiquated ways of the empire will not stop us.” Ophelia rode into Phyllis field of vision.

Sighing she sat down next to the large sack she had carried. The tall body of the great fungus rose behind her into the cloudy morning sky. “Well, you’ll blame it on me, right?” secretly she focused on the whispering voice in the back of her head. “I have what you need great one, but to deliver it, I require your aid!” she pleaded only in thought.

“Of course we,” Ophelia stopped mid sentence. “Hurry!” the two hissed, quickly Phyllis jumped to her feet, grabbed the sack and ran. Taking two steps at once she hurried up the stairs that lead to a platform in front of the gaping wound in the stem. In one fluid motion had she taken the sack off her back and opened it. Carefully she lifted the Floral out of the linen.

Perched on the handrail the Floral wimpered, while Phyllis stared down the opening that led into the interior of the great fungus. In a violent hiss a blast of fire impacted on the stem next to the opening. Phyllis turned to return an attack, only to realize she had not drank enough to summon a counter attack, every last drop of the Floral Mana she had consumed was used for invisibility during her journey to the fungus.

Gajus and Ophelia were attacked by the regukar guards, and the conjurers channeling the ethereal into the great fungus.

Hastily she returned her focus on the fungus. “Oh great fungus, may thy guidance once again hold us up from beneath the soil, and rescue the one led astray! For the light of truth will always outshine the fires of deception, wash away the lies and the ignorance!” she spread her arms to the sides standing behind the panicking Floral.

Sharp searing pain in her back stopped Phyllis from shouting more incantations and prayers. From the corners if her eyes she saw flames dissipating into nothingness. Forced by the momentum of the summoned fire Phyllis felt herself being pushed against the Floral and the wooden railing. Cracking noise at the height of her hips told Phyllis of the breaking railing that separated her from the gaping mound into the depths of the great fungus. In her fall she caught a glimpse of Gajus who had fired at her. Flames and other ethereal evils descended upon him.

But she felt life oozing out of her as she and the Floral fell into the gorge.

 

Light engulfed her body, more so her soul. A fainting smile appeared on her lips. Tendrils caught her, nested her, connected her. A feeling of wholesomeness spread throughout her her heart and soul.

Even if her attempt of saving the great fungus was a failure, she was connected with it, feeling the very thought and emotion the great fungus had spread through her, mix and mingle with her own.

 

Steam rose in a constant cloud from the spook-mushroom pie that stood on the table. Ghanus stared at it, absent minded, the female novice to the other side of the table. “Soon the errands from the great fungus will bring news and,” she stopped in mid sentence, holding her temple. Ghanus looked up.

Whispers.

A distinct outcry for help echoed through the hissed words. All in the library held their temples, apparently also hearing the cry for help.

The whispers stopped for a moment, Silicia looked distraught. “Was that,” she didn’t end her question intentionally. A simple nod was Ghanus sole reply.

Again whispers flooded the unheard realm of thought. Immediately Ghanus knew that Phyllis had fallen. But his grief was almost instantly soothed.

The whispering turned into thought. Thought and emotion filling all of his mind, all of his being.

“I live again.”

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