Shadowcroft Year 3 - Chapter Fifty-Four

The party to celebrate the end of the Interschool Tournament of Collegial Dungeon Excellence was truly amazing. There were fireworks, a parade where the Terrible Twelfth and Chadrigoth got to practice their princess waves on various floats. The parade kind. Not the Stephen King kind.

After the parade was a tremendous dance party.

Vos Mynih, squid bard drummer and the headmaster of Saudrian’s School of Guardians took care of the music with help from Marko and Nick Nicklewise. The terrifying clown dungeon core played his accordion with the terror turned down to about a nine—making it only just bearable. He and Marko did a whole set of polka music, which is the least horrifying music genre depending on where you’re from. Marko kindly chose not to play anything that would summon anything Lovecraftian. He only summoned the love.

The entire Arena Suprema had become the largest dance club, open bar, and multiversal buffet in existence. The place was packed with fans, press, and pretty much the entire student populations of every university that even flirted with being accredited by the Council of Dungeons.

There were liches doing keg stands, nerdy Abaddon Archivists doing line dances, and one slime giant was trying to eat all of the bean dip with a shovel. That had to be stopped.

At one point, the Gelatinous Knight and Nemoy were kicked out of the party for starting a mosh pit in front of the band. While they had some takers in some of the beefier dungeon cores as well a full squad of Markalos, slam dancing wasn’t encouraged.

To make sure that the dance party hit all the middle school tropes, Jimi Magmarty and Lady Elesiel left in a huff after creating a scene with Chadrigoth. Not that the torment lord engaged with them—he was beyond their petty squabbles. Either way, the earth golem and the undead elven queen did this big dramatic exit and made sure everyone saw them because they were so important after all. Logan had to admit, if there were prizes for douche bag prom king and nightmare prom queen, those two would win.

The heroic fungaloid watched the whole thing from the buffet table. He was sniffing the clam dip, hoping that it had turned in the heat of all the dancing and celebration, when Professor Rick and the rest of his misfit mushroom class came running in to jump on him.

Yeez Tee had changed outfits—he wore a black suit with a tie, no hat and no cape, and he was looking good for a bald fungaloid with trust issues. He had a big smile that showed brown teeth. “You did it! You helped me even when I didn’t want your help! You have done the impossible!”

Logan hugged the troubled mushroom man. It was nice to see someone on the right end of their character arc. He planned on talking to both Shadowcroft and Rockheart to see if they would accept Yeez as a transfer student. He’d be too perfect for the Backstories.

Pewig Bulge then came over to hug them both—as a fungal basilisk he’d grown by at least thirty percent, had some nice chitinous scales, and his breath smelled divine. To Logan, at least. Most people would’ve had to do a saving throw versus gross or else they’d lose their lunch.

Logan also thought that Pewig would be a good addition to Shadowcroft.

Amanda Pears was blinking, mouth open, embracing her perpetual state of shock and surprise. “Can you believe this party? Can you believe you won? Can you believe we all ranked up like five slots?”

Gary Bernardii had one hand in a veggie tray and one hand on a fruit plate. His hand mouths did the rest. “Not five, Amanda. But a bunch. This has been the best and most productive misfit mushroom class we’ve ever had!”

Luco Paxillus, who was mostly cap and nose, removed Gary’s hands from the table. “Come on Gare, use a plate like the rest of us. No one wants your spores in their food.”

Trio Trio Trio wiggled its pale, mottled body over next to Luco. Trio’s reddish head was smiling. “I love spores in my food! Bring on the spores!”

The second, blackish head, narrowed its eyes. “In the end, spores in the soufflé won’t matter at all. We’re one of the most powerful forces in the universe for death and decay. We’re going to eventually eat all these people anyway.”

The pinkish head swayed left and right like a confused snake. “Yes. I look at them, and all I see are death. Gary’s greasy fingers are the least of their worries. All shall know our sweet kiss.” Pinky grinned. “Kissing is hard if you don’t have lips.”

Logan found that whole exchange a bit disconcerting.

“Okay, Lori, I’ll ask him. Sheesh!” Professor Rick hooked a thumb at the black and yellow spores around him. “Logan, um, are you going to have time to help tutor me and the fungaloids next year?”

Logan wasn’t sure of his schedule for the next year. All he knew was that he had a work study program, which seemed like an internship for an established dungeon. Logan had definite plans for that. He only hoped the mysterious boon would help him and his friends survive whatever murderous shenanigans the universe had to throw their way.

When Logan didn’t answer right away, Professor Rick’s face fell. “Oh, well, I’m sure you’ll be busy.” He shuffled his feet awkwardly. “I’m just glad that we had you this year.”

Logan grabbed Rick’s arm. “No, Professor, I just don’t know what I’ll be doing. But I’m pretty sure I can squeeze you and the rest of the class into my schedule. It’ll be fun.”

“See, Lori, I knew he’d say yes.” He pumped an arm in celebration. “And you thought he’d forget all the little people now that’s he’s big time.”

The spore cloud buzzed angrily around the professor.

Professor Rick waved her away. “Ugh, the old ball n chain is frisky tonight.”

That didn’t make Lori any happier.

Logan finally found some potato salad that had definite turned, and he ate it with his fingers while he watched Yullis Rockheart dance with his sweetie—a very dazzling Arketa the Hellgazer. The gorgon had a sparkling red dress which matched her brilliant sparkly sunglasses. Rockheart was in a suit to match, and he had sunglasses perched above his horns. They were easily the best dressed couple in attendance. Arketa had all the dance talent. Rockheart danced like a union welder at his niece’s wedding reception.

Logan wasn’t surprised to see the nine-tailed fox girl, Ji-Soo—dungeon hunter and probably the happiest assassin in universe—getting down, but he was surprised to see her dancing with Professor Zuzanna Zantho, the militaristic pixie who had taught their Offensive Dungeon Course from the year before. The Fairy Fetch had traded her ancient Greek armor in for a dress that Helen of Troy might’ve worn. The two looked good.

Near them were Inga and Tet, smiling and moving to the music.

Inga tried her best to get Professor Nekhbet to join in, but that was never going to happen. Bart was in deep conversation with a collection of Shadowcroft professors including Suresh, Darnol, and Professor JJ Kobold.

She did, however, somehow lure Treacle onto the dance floor.

Logan caught Professor Gilligan tipping a vial into the fruit punch. The raccoon grinned. “Just a little antiseptic.” He shot Logan a wink. “You might like all the bacteria in this place, but there’s a deadly strain of Corvic 19 going around. Just doing my part for the public health.” The strange furry guy capped the vial and shuffled off, shooing away flies that weren’t there and ducking a lot.

Logan wasn’t sure if Gilligan was telling the truth or not. It seemed that Ahrah-Koonem Gilligan was both all right and all wrong.

Chadrigoth came and over and stood with his arms across his chest. He was wearing a tuxedo, customed to fight his muscled body. Most tuxedos didn’t come with sheaths, but this one did, and his sword, the Soul Slayer, hung from his hip.

Logan and Chadrigoth watched the dancing, when out of nowhere, the torment lord sighed. “No easy way to say this, best friend, but I’m not coming back next year. Heck, I’m leaving now. Just wanted to say goodbye.”

Logan turned. “Come on, Chadrigoth, it’s one more year. I know, you and I don’t exactly need Shadowcroft anymore, but it won’t be the same without you.”

The torment lord shook his head. “No, bro. I knew this time would come. Shador was in such a hurry on Chorch—that was where Wintersylver died—that he didn’t drain the celestial node dry. Someone needs to go and protect it. Talked with Shadowcroft, and I got his approval. Even Professor Rockheart agrees. Ancient demon underneath a temple? It totally fits. I’m going to have so many cool traps, and I’m thinking catacombs, maybe add some undead. I got some necromantical powers when I ascended.”

Logan nodded and patted the torment lord on the back. They were the same size now. But Logan’s fingers were full of congealed potato salad. That spoiled mayonnaise had such a nice tang. Logan had to wipe some salad off Chadrigoth’s back. “Uh, sorry, got a little salad on ya. I get it, Chadrigoth. You’re going to do a great.”

The demon nodded. “I think I really will. You know, a little over a year ago, I think the solitude would’ve killed me. I needed an audience. I needed everyone to know I was the best. But the past couple of weeks in the Slam Fest, I could’ve been there alone with my minions. And if I get lonely, I’ll send you a GoogazonFace message. You’re on GoogazonFace, right?”

“Just learned about it, but I’ll figure it out.” Logan new things were going to change, but he’d wanted to enjoy the status quo a bit longer. That wasn’t going to happen. “Thanks for sharpening me, best friend.”

“Metal sharpens metal” Chadrigoth replied. A single man tear trinkled down the abyss lord’s face. “Metal sharpens metal.”

Chadrigoth vanished in a cloud that smelled vaguely of Polo cologne and sulfur. He’d upgraded from the Ax body spray.

Logan was sad, but he knew that the torment lord would do well. Of course, their paths would cross again. From what he understood, every century or so, there were conferences for working dungeon cores. Kind of like DragonCon for guardians except it wouldn’t be Atlanta in September. He would be some place cooler, like one of the levels of hell. Logan ate more potato salad, while he reminisced about the rocky relationship road he’d walked with the torment lord.

However, no end of the year party would be complete without Skip Shadowcroft shuffling over to him with a knowing smile carved into his wizened face. “Logan Murray, I so apologize for not coming to your aid. If this Lou Shador fellow had killed you, I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself. Well, that’s a bit much,” he mused. “I would’ve gotten over your death eventually. It would’ve taken a long time, however, because I’ve grown surprisingly fond of you. You’re very plucky, you know, and I quite admire that.”

Logan had to chuckle. “You all certainly have a cavalier attitude toward life and death.”

Skip swept up some pita chips and hummus in his stick fingers. “It is not cavalier at all—I just have the benefit of perspective. After all, I would see you again in the Tree of Souls. We all shall be united in the end, so there are no real goodbyes. Do you want to know a secret, Mr. Murray?”

“What’s that, headmaster?”

“Even in death, we can do wonderful things.” Shadowcroft waggled his grassy eyebrows at Logan. “But let’s you and I stay alive a bit longer, shall we?”

“Let’s,” Logan agreed. “You know, next year, I want my work study program to be on Earth.”

“Earth?” Shadowcroft shrugged, chewing on his pita chips. “I have never heard of such a place.”

“Uroth,” Logan grumbled in resignation.

Shadowcroft’s face lit up. “Yes. Uroth Of course. The Marvel movies. Did I mention that Thor: The Dark World is the most historically accurate of those films? I have a special edition of the video crystal.”

Logan wasn’t going to let himself get sidetracked. “Yeah, I know, but I’m serious about going back to Uroth. There’s some weird connection between my homeworld, Billy Scales, and Lou Shador. He and his Glow Brigade got most of their powers from Earth. I’m sure of it.”

Shadowcroft scowled and the flowers on his head drooped a little. “To even mention Billy Scales puts a terrible damper on this celebration. We shall speak of next year, next year. I will say this, though, Logan Murray. On Uroth, I believe you will find mysteries unknown. You will unravel secrets that have been hidden for millennia. You’ll embrace a destiny undreamed of by mortal dungeons. Yes, I do believe you will return to Uroth, but there will be some who will not like the idea.”

“Why won’t they like it?” Logan asked.

The headmaster rolled his eyes. “Because Uroth has a laughable, miniscule amount of Apothos. If there are celestial nodes there, they are so weak as to be undetectable. To send an A-Class Jade Leaf Cultivator to such a world is beyond foolish.”

Logan wasn’t surprised there would be pushback. But his mind was made up. “Why did you say all that prophetic stuff? About secrets, and destiny, and all that. What do you know that I don’t?”

“Not a thing,” Shadowcroft said. “But doesn’t it sound better than promising you a Mexican pizza from Taco Bell? I hear they brought them back for a limited time.”

However much Logan liked the Mexican pizza, he had to admit that the prophetic words were much more fun.

Shadowcroft patted Logan on the shoulder and got some hummus on him. “Sorry. But as I said, we shall deal with your fourth year in your fourth and last year. As for the summer, Rockheart has once again requested your services, our bathrooms will never be cleaner, thanks to Mr. Laskarelis, and word has it, that Mr. Glimmerhappy is opening a candy shop in Vralkag. Madame Ori Gammi has requested Inga again, but I want her to take the summer off. She did well with her cultivation task. Also, my office has never been more orderly. Admitting you can’t do the impossible makes all things possible.”

“Well put,” Logan mused. He and his friends had come so far. Inga was B-Class, Rank 6, only one more rank to unlocking more of her astral moth powers. Both Marko and Treacle had ascended to Azure Branch, Rank 10, cultivators. Logan still couldn’t believe he made it to Jade Leaf . He’d even hit Rank 9 thanks to the abundance of Apothos he’d siphoned off Lou Shador and his squad of miscreants.

They’d all come so far.

Treacle opening a candy shop? This was news to Logan, but he wasn’t surprised. Treacle Glimmerhappy had truly embraced his past, which had allowed him to waltz into the future without a care in the world.

Lolozi Webbs came over and enticed Shadowcroft into a dance. The headmaster left to boogie like a Tolkien ent with disco fever.

Marko came rushing over. “It’s time to cut loose, mushroom! You might be all fancy and A-Class now, but that will only make your moves sweeter!” Marko was sweating, and he was holding hands with a cute clownish girl—decked out in more Harley Quinn cosplay—though less murder-y than the Grand Jester.

“I’m Punchie Inella. It’s a pleasure to meetcha!” Her grease paint was a little moist, but she seemed nice enough. And at least she didn’t emit an aura of absolute terror like Professor Nicklewise.

“The pleasures all mine,” Logan replied.

Marko waved a finger. “Don’t fight me on this, Logan Murray. You’re dancing!”

Logan grinned. “I think I got a little extra agility thanks to digesting a certain roller derby archer we all knew and hated. So let’s do this!”

Logan dazzled the party, as he grooved over to Inga, Treacle, and Tet.

Marko and his girlfriend for the night joined them, and they all danced to music of the universe.

Logan wondered at Shadowcroft’s prophecy. He felt like there was some truth to it. But who knew for sure? Only time would reveal some mysteries. Tonight was for partying. For relaxing. For embracing life and celebrating its victories. Tomorrow he and his friends could delve deeper into the untold secrets of the universe. And maybe grab a little Taco Bell. Taco Bell always sounded good—even to a mushroom.

Logan didn’t know what their final year would bring, but he’d face it with his friends at the best and weirdest dungeon academy in the entire Ashvattha multiverse.

THE END - YEAR THREE