Shadowcroft Year 3 - Chapter Thirty-Three

Logan hardly slept. He left a note for his friends telling them that he’d unraveled the twine, and he was skipping out on their morning cultivation routine because he was going to talk to Rockheart. That dumb gargoyle-griffin had a lot to answer for. It was one thing for Logan to miss out on Professor Darnol’s cool off-world cultivation, especially when his techniques had made all the difference. Well, that and the Miami Vice sweatbands.

But the twine had done absolutely nothing.

Logan found Rockheart’s office—it was near the top of the castle, a stately room with books and papers all neatly stacked. There was a ton of stuff there, but it was all neatly organized because Rockheart was the very essence of organized. Statues of his ancestors lurked here and there—famous gargoyles that had made a name for themselves over the centuries. On the walls were portraits of famous dungeon cores that Rockheart had tutored himself. He took great pride in having taught some of the most successful guardians in the multiverse.

Logan barged in and threw the twine on Rockheart’s desk. “The Miami Vice wristbands helped me tie another knot, no thanks to you. The ball of twine didn’t help me at all. There was nothing inside. No core of wisdom. No tincture. I briefly considered eating the twine because unlike most people, I think it smells delicious, but I figured that wouldn’t do anything either.

“So, I’m here, because I need to know what the whole point of this year’s cultivation class was? We missed out on all these cool trips, and interesting techniques, and for what?” Logan shook the string at the gargoyle-griffin, who was impeccably dressed in purple that morning. Lots of purple and lace. “For twine. It was nothing but twine the whole time! This was supposed to change everything, and it did nothing. Nothing except drive me up a wall.”

Rockheart frowned in evident disappointment. “Honestly, I didn’t think you’d untie it at all. I was impressed you waited so long to come to me. You do realize that I should rip you apart for barging in and yelling at me.”

“As if that’s even a threat at this point,” Logan shot back. “I’ve been ripped apart plenty of times before, Yullis, and I’m pretty sure I’ll be ripped apart again. Not that big of a deal.” Logan knew what he was doing was dangerous and probably not a good idea, but he also knew that he’d progressed enough that he could probably stand up to Rockheart in a fight. It wouldn’t come to that.

Also, Rockheart was his teacher, and not his commanding officer. Besides that, the two had spent a huge amount of time together. Logan was banking on all the bonding they’d done.

Rockheart picked up the twine, and it vanished. “It’s actually magic twine, made to never be unwound. You did the impossible. This makes the lesson even better.”

“What’s the lesson?” Logan asked.

Rockheart rose from his chair and came around to look Logan in the eye. “You worked your way to where you are now. Do you think you can work your way to A-Class?”

“Yeah,” Logan said. “To be honest, all this talk about spiritual revelations always seemed like such hocus-pocus to me. It’s just effort, man. I’ll get there through sweat equity.”

“Wrong!” Rockheart thundered, slapping his paws against his desk.

Logan saw the rage. But he wasn’t going to back down. “Then tell me why you gave me a ball of twine?”

“Because, Mr. Work Ethic, sometimes you do all the hard work, you slave away doing everything that needs to be done, and you still don’t win. Sometimes things don’t mean anything. You think this whole thing is about perseverance, but look, you persevered, and you didn’t get a thing except some stinky string. Ha. That’s the dungeon core game, Logan Murray. That’s the cold, hard truth that underpins the world. You can do everything right and still fail. There are cores that have ascended to A-Class that did half as much work as you did.

“The universe picks favorites all the time,” he continued. “Ascending to A class is not a matter of work. It’s a matter of enlightenment. What that is, I don’t know, but for you, it’s not going to be work. Your willpower and effort has taken you this far, but it won’t see you to the end of your journey. You’ll need something else. You’ll need revelation. The twine was meant to break you. To reveal the flaws in your foundation, so that perhaps you might overcome them and ascend to something greater than you are.”

Logan felt like someone had just sucker punched him. He wished Rockheart had ripped off his limbs. This was so much worse. “So what do I do now? Do I stop cultivating since it doesn’t matter?”

Rockheart barked laughter. “As if you could. You know the benefits now. You’ve felt the power. And let me tell you, with three knots, not cultivating Apothos just might kill you. So, no, you still have to work. You just have to know that work might not take you to where you want to go. Do you want to know the really maddening thing, Mr. Murray?”

Logan pressed his eyes shut tight. “Sure.”

“The maddening thing is that the next time you meditate, you might shoot up five ranks in a heartbeat. But you probably won’t. And you’ll still do the work.”

“Why should I?”

Rockheart put a claw on Logan’s shoulder. “Because it’s the one thing you can control. You won’t control raiders, you won’t control the Tree of Souls, but you can control what you do with your time. You’re a tough one. Remember, I told you that this ball of twine lesson might kill you or destroy your sanity. The problem with you students is you never listen to your elders. Well, you’re listening now.”

Logan stepped back. “What about Treacle’s jawbreaker? Is that the same lesson? Or Inga’s dumb tax audit, which is an impossible amount of work, even for her. Or Marko’s bathroom cleaning?”

Rockheart laughed. “It’s been eons since the bathrooms of Arborea have been this clean.”

Logan had nothing left but threats. “I’m going to tell them that there was nothing at the center of the twine. I’m going to tell them to stop doing all that unnecessary work.”

“But what if it isn’t  unnecessary for them?” Rockheart’s gaze had never been more piercing and stony. “That’s the rub. You don’t know for certain if Inga finishing off the tax audit, which is critical, might just bring her closer to A-Class. No one knows. Her deficiencies and short comings are not the same as yours so what she needs to advance to A-Class might well be vastly different than what you need. So it is for Treacle and for Marko and for every Dungeon Core at this august university.”

“So what’s the point of this school and all these lessons if no one knows anything?” Logan asked.

“You’re reading things into my words that aren’t there, Mr. Murray. We professors know a great many things. And taking a student from a lowly Deep Root Cultivator all the way up an Azure BranchCultivator is something of a science. Past that though, is mystery. But we can give you techniques, strategies, and guidance from a lifetime of personal experience. And, more than that, the Academy allows us to live in the uncertainty together.

“We are bound by a common purpose, which as you know is no small thing. I find it amusing that you think the lesson of the twine ended when you untied it all. No, moron, it’s just beginning. You’ve done the impossible and it still wasn’t enough. Own that truth and see where it takes you. Although the first place it better take you is out of my office. And don’t you ever come barging in like that again. You’re lucky I was in a good mood because I’m wearing my favorite lace.” The gargoyle shook his lacy sleeves at Logan.

The fungaloid left before he got himself into more trouble.

As he walked through the golden serpent hall, the day had started, and there were all manner of weird creatures walking the halls, eating breakfast, hurrying off to their classes.

Logan wasn’t even sure if he should go to class anymore. What was the point if all it amounted to was going through the motions?

Then Logan remembered the feeling of overwhelming gratitude that had engulfed him the night before. He’d only gotten this far because of his friends. Maybe he would never advance. Maybe B-Class Rank 4 was all he would ever be, but he couldn’t just abandon his friends or his responsibilities. This wasn’t just about him. Someone needed to stop Lou Shador. Inga, Marko, and Treacle still needed him. And then there were the misfit mushroom at Nightfall University to consider.

Some of them had been stranded as Deep Root Cultivators for years, but they hadn’t given up. If Logan could help show them the way, then he wasn’t a failure after all.

The Gelatinous Knight came by and lifted a hand for a high five.

Logan high-fived him back, even though he knew it would leave his hand all gooey and greasy. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Logan was always kind of slimy anyway.

Logan realized that nothing had changed other than his perspective. The way forward was not defeat, but gratitude.

“Logan!” Marko and the rest of the Terrible Twelfth came up to him, their faces bright with sweat. Or was that the lotion that Gilligan had given them? It did darken Marko’s and Treacle’s fur. It smelled good as long as you weren’t in an enclosed space.

Marko grinned. “I’m going to try and make less of a mess, now that I have wear this lotion in my fur for the next two weeks. GK is going to give me tips.”

Logan noticed something right away. Treacle wasn’t crocheting. True, the minotaur was still wearing a brown and yellow cape made of wool, so he wasn’t completely free of the crotchet bug just yet, but he wasn’t actively making anything new. Marko also seemed significantly less conspiracy-y. His eyes were a bit clearer and he hadn’t once accused anyone of being a sleeper agent for Zeta Ridiculans. That had to be a good sign.

Inga came up and gave Logan a big hug. “You got the twine undone! What was at the center of it? Was there a ball of energy? Did you advance?”

Logan thought about telling them it was all useless. He seriously considered telling them to stop their own weird cultivation techniques. But in the end, he realized Rockheart was right. Everyone was on their own journey and no two were alike. He didn’t want to stand in the way of their progress. But he also couldn’t lie to his friends. He needed to be true to himself as well.

“I didn’t advance,” Logan admitted. “But I did learn a few things I can’t talk about yet. It’s this cultivation secret thing. You know, if I tell you, I lose the power, but I will at some point.”

Marko took hold of his shoulders and looked into his eyes. “You are being mysterious and yet, I can see it’s not all good news. I sense sadness. Do you want to talk about it, big guy?”

“Not sad,” Logan lied. “I have a bunch of good news. I have a third knot, which means more power. It’s not an improvement in rank, but it’s something. The sweatbands actually worked with gratitude, and they gave me a boost of Apothos right when I needed it. They’re gone, which is probably okay since I know you guys thought they smelled bad.”

Treacle’s jawbreaker clacked while he talked. “The ripe stench of death. Terry cloth yuck on my friend. Now free of the stink.”

“They weren’t that bad,” Logan protested.

Marko drew him away. “They weren’t good, buddy. They weren’t good. But come on. Let’s get you some disgusting rotten food so we can get to class. It kinda sucks you didn’t ascend, but then again, Logan, you are the most powerful member of our cohort. And you’ve done what no one else as ever been able to do.”

Inga’s antennae extended out in surprise. “Marko, that was a cogent idea very well delivered. You showed empathy as well as logic. I think the Lojjikki Lotion is working.”

“We’re all getting better,” Marko said with a big grin. “Now, let’s get some breakfast.”

They ate quickly and then headed off to class.

Logan knew he’d done the right thing—his friends needed to follow their path wherever it took them. He hoped that they didn’t have the same kind of painful lesson he’d had with the twine, but they might. If so, he would be there for them, which meant he had to let go of his own disappointment and soldier on.

He still believed in perseverance and work. But in the end, he believed in the power of camaraderie even more.

The next couple of weeks, it was mostly lotion, as Logan got used to not always messing with a ball of twine. At the same time, he was practicing letting go of his disappointment and embracing a spirit of gratitude. Marko had said it perfectly, which was odd, given the source. Logan really had come an impossibly distance in such a short time.

It was Friday night, classes done, when Logan found Treacle alone in the golden serpent hall, eating.

Treacle hadn’t crotched in days, and he’d even started putting the afghans away, which made their place a lot less crowded. Treacle’s creations were no longer decked out in heaps of colorful wool, which made them a lot more intimidating. Logan hadn’t told the minotaur, but he hated the way his Ugknot Calflings looked covered in crocheted outfits.

Logan sat down across from him.

Treacle held the jawbreaker in his hand. “Have I ever told you how much I hate candy?” he said without prompting.

Logan nodded. “A time or two. But you come from basically a candy world, right? I kind of figured it was like Sucrosia.”

Treacle sighed and shook his head. “Plimpkinny is nothing like Sucrosia. We have actual plants, igneous rock, and actual soil.”

“But you were recruited near a place called Castle Candylick. Or did I not hear that right?” Logan asked.

The minotaur nodded. “You heard true. My people valued candy as much as gold and status. They always loved to know who was royal, and who wasn’t. Who had the most candy, and who didn’t. But I never liked candy. I didn’t care about gold. My wife did. She loved it so much that she was even willing to marry a lord. Did I mention I was a lord?”

“I think so.” Logan wondered where this was going.

Treacle smiled. “I’ve learned a lot about myself in this strange place. I’ve engineered some amazing things. I saw that I couldn’t be so negative, not like Steve. I hated Steve.”

“We all hated that mannequin,” Logan agreed, though that wasn’t the truth. Steve did have his good points—not as the vessel of an ancient evil dungeoneer, clearly, but there was still some merits to Marko’s floor boss.

Logan then remembered something. “When we came back from Sucrosia, you seemed shocked by it somehow.”

The minotaur shrugged and then tapped the jawbreaker against a horn. “Like I said, I hated candy. Too sweet. Gives good people cavities. It’s just not worth it. Then I was given this jawbreaker. I’ve been sucking on it for months now. It never gets any smaller and it’s even gotten in the way of my cud chewing. I’ve lost some weight. That doesn’t matter.” Treacle then looked Logan in the eye.

“I thought candy worlds like Sucrosia were a myth. When I found out they were real, well, I was afraid they’d be the death of you and Inga. Then I saw how well you did, how the magical nature of the candy actually helped you. That made me look back at my own history with candy. I’ve held onto a lot of hate. Toward the candy, my world, even my status-loving, social climber wife. No more. Candy is like anything else, neither good nor bad. In its way, it is amoral. It’s all about what we choose to do with it. Like this dumb thing.”

He held the glistening jawbreaker in the air, pinched between his thumb and index finger. “I’ve been suffering with this thing for months not because it’s bad but because of the pain of my history. It’s been a torture to me, but only after Sucrosia did I realize that there are people who love these things and would cherish a genuinely never-ending jawbreaker. This whole thing”—he waved a hand through the air—“it was never about the hardness of the candy but the hardness of my heart.”

Then Treacle tossed the jawbreaker into his mouth and bit down. There was a massive crunch, and the minotaur smiled. “Hey, that tastes pretty good. There is something in the center. Kind of like cherry cordials. Same texture. Hmm, cherry chocolate. I’ll probably have some gas, but I’ll enjoy the…”

He didn’t finish. A second later, every compartment on his body opened—thanks to his Internal Alchemy abilities, he had both Clockwork Organs and Engineered Anatomy. One of the compartments housed his magical hammer, which slid out and thudded onto the table. Knives sprung out at the ends of springs. A few of his creations—spidery type of contraptions with long segmented legs—frantically raced up and down his arms.

Treacle’s goggles snapped into place, covering his eyes. “Stand back, Logan. Something is happening, and I don’t think it’s gas.”

Logan thought he knew what it was. This was like Chadrigoth, when he’d gone into his cocoon to ascend to A-Class.

Something similar was happening to Treacle. Something amazing.

Treacle’s horns cracked and a colorful gossamer webbing erupted in a geyser, falling over his body like a huge mourner’s veil. Logan wasn’t exactly sure what the substance was, but it was thicker and more colorful than the Lojjikki Lotion. Logan inched back, and he watched in wonder as the substance quickly hardened into a shell. He could hardly make out the body of the minotaur or his contraptions through the rubbery layer of… could it be?

Logan poked the material.

Treacle was completely enshrouded in a gummy bear cocoon. He’d done it. He was advancing to B-Class. But how long was this going to take? And how would they stop their classmates from eating through the minotaur’s delicious candy shell?