Shadowcroft Academy Year 2 - Chapter Twenty-Five

That night, Logan climbed up the Ladder Hole and knocked on Inga’s door.

A second later, Logan heard her voice inside his head. <Why, hello, Logan. Did you survive the dressing down you received from Professor Zantho?>

<Yeah, and it wasn’t as bad as you’d think. It was bad, don’t get me wrong, but the worst part about it was that I think she’s going to try and make my mid-term harder. Speaking of which, I need to talk with you about something.>

A second later, Inga appeared at the door, dressed in a warm bathrobe, big fuzzy pants and equally fuzzy socks. The castle could be a bit chilly, even though she had a fire blazing in her hearth. With a thin smile, she ushered him inside.

He wasn’t surprised to see all the packed bookcases, the tomes shelved in orderly rows. The books on her nightstand were organized by author, and her desk was equally as squared away with quills, paper, ink pots, her grimoire, everything in its proper place. Scented candles, scattered around the room, provided a pleasing lavender scent. Her room was a cozy bookish haven, except there was one thing out of place.

Dominating the center was a large table with eight place settings, under a grand chandelier that was far too big for the comparatively tiny room. On the left of each plate was a collection knives and spoons, while on the right were an array of forks. Around the table were bowls, glasses, wine glasses, and other culinary odds and ends.

She caught him staring. “For Bart’s cutlery class. Excuse me, my elective with Professor Nekhbet. Melvin suggested I might be able to better visualize an early spring equinox table setting. I can go over the various dining implements.” She frowned and crossed her arms as she stared at the table. “It’s dizzyingly complex.”

Logan raised a hand. “No, but I appreciate the offer. And hey, if it would help you, I’m your mushroom.”

“Thank you, Logan. I’ll keep that mind.” She reached out and squeezed his arm. “I know this is silly, but I’m enjoying the class. It’s rare that I’m challenged. Now, would you like to talk about?”

It was rather odd being able to look Inga squarely in the face because he’d always been so short. Now, they were eye to eye. He rubbed his cap nervously. “Well. It’s Tet. When she cracked her gem, she lost three ranks. There’s no way she’s going to be able to pass the Professor Zantho’s mid-term.”

Inga’s antennae shot out from her brows. “Well, that is shocking. Of course you should help her by joining with her. She’s such a lovely person. Remember how kind she was to me during our Minion Management class? I was badly in need of some encouragement and she was such a dear.”

Logan was completely surprised, though he probably shouldn’t have been. Inga was a very talented, very confident big owl creature turned moth woman, but she was as caring as she smart. However, he wanted to make sure she understood the consequences. “Inga, to work with her, to get ready, we’re going to have to severe our connection. If I don’t, I’ll only have twenty-four hours with Tet, and we’ll need more than that to train before mid-terms. This is a big ask…” he faltered. “Are you going to be okay with that?”

Inga’s dark eyes narrowed with exasperation, “Of course, I understand. I don’t think it will be that drastic of a change, after all. You and I have always been very respectful of other’s privacy.”

They stood there staring at each other for a few seconds. It was both comfortable and awkward.

Logan finally nodded. “Okay, then. I’m just going to… you know… severe the connection.” He didn’t do it right away. He wasn’t sure why.

They stood there a few more awkward moments.

Inga’s antennae shrank. “If it’s any solace, I want you to know that I know this is only temporary. You are the most loyal person I have ever met, Logan. I have no reservations about this. And, as a bonus, bonding with Tet might enable you to learn more about her attacker. That alone is worth the temporary separation.”

Logan grinned. “I had the same thought. Okay. For real this time.” He inhaled and started the process.

Are you sure you want to end your Symbiotic Bond with Inga Thosa Therian?

Y/N?

Logan chose yes. Most of the tiny crystalline mushrooms were on her shoulders and neck, unnoticeable against her pale skin. Those spores on her head were hidden by the glow of her lunar-light colored hair.

When he severed their connection, the spores came apart and floated in the air between them, glittering for a moment. The spores were pretty, and the soft light it created made Inga look so beautiful as her antennae unrolled and her big eyes sparkled with wonder at the sight.

He then drew the Symbiosis spores back into his gills, reabsorbing their Apothos into his core. And just like that, their bond was gone.

Inga surprised him by giving him a hug. “I better get back to my silverware. Give Tet my best.”

Logan hugged her back, and it was friendly, though he still felt strangely empty without her presence. He’d gotten so used to having her always around, even if it was only as a shadowy presence in the back of his head. For the first time in a long time, he felt alone. Really alone. It was disconcerting, but also strangely enjoyable.

He said good night then used his new floating skill to drift down to the ground. He checked the pile of old noodles in his digestion pit, noticed the delicious green coating, and then flopped into his bed. Was he hurt that Inga agreed so quickly? No, that wasn’t it. He just missed his buddy, and he was a little nervous creating a new bond with Tet. He didn’t know the cat woman all that well, and while he’d have most of the power in the Symbiosis bond, it was still odd pairing up someone who wasn’t a close friend. But Tet needed a hand up and Logan was the only one who could give it too her.

Not only because of his unique abilities, but because Shadowcroft Academy was a place without mercy. Without a conscience in many ways. Survival of the fittest was the order of the day at the Academy, and no one was going to go out of their way to help someone who had a cracked core. Nobody except Logan and his band of misfit friends. Doing the right thing was rarely easy or comfortable, but it still needed doing.

Resigned with his choices, Logan closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

The next day, when he told Tet that they could train that night in the Tartarucha Cells, she seemed oddly cold about the whole situation. She did thank him, but that didn’t make Logan feel any better. After that, he swung by Professor’s Zantho’s office in the main castle and told her he wanted to take his mid-term with Tet. That conversation made him feel even worse.

The fairy fetch shrugged. “Kill you one by one, or kill you two at a time, makes no difference to me. I won’t be going easy on you, fungaloid. Never cared for much for mushrooms. When they aren’t slimy they’re chewy. And when they aren’t chewy or slimy, they’re poisonous. Never did meet one I liked. Now, keep in mind, I will be cranking up the power of the simulated characters to handle two hardcore hitters like yourselves. Ain’t no small thing to face off with two Azure Branch cultivators working in tandem. Would be a shame to kill you, but better you die at the school than protecting the Tree. Understand?”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” Logan said with a grim nod. After dinner, Logan and Tet walked down the Stairwell of True Seeing together. In her human form, the cat woman looked like Cleopatra, similar hair and skin tones and sparkling human eyes. She was pretty, and yet also focused and deadly, like the panther-headed guardian she’d eventually become.

Tet glanced at his own human form and nodded at his missing limb. “It’s no small feat to overcome such a grievous wound,” she said, pride brimming in her voice.

Logan laughed. “For one thing, my feet aren’t small. And I only had to overcome losing the one foot.”

“Puns. I was warned about the puns.” The cat woman shook her head sadly but didn’t say who had warned her. Probably Shadowcroft since the headmaster had said fungaloids came locked and loaded with word play.

They walked down the rest of the way into the undercroft, the lobby area between the library and the Tartarucha cells. A turtle fountain bubbled happily against the wall. The fountain itself was more of a mimic because the stone head turned to take them in. The fountain spoke with the same voice as Zhen Ikgix, the Venerable Threshing Turtle, who oversaw the Tartarucha Cells as well as the other dungeons. “Well, now, it’s Mr. Murray and Tet-Akhat. I was surprised to see your names on the list for tonight. Allowing yourself to be the puppet of a fungaloid takes a certain amount of bravery, Ms. Akhat.”

Tet lifted her chin. “I understand the risks.”

Logan felt the tension in the air. “I’m not here for a power trip, Professor Ikgix. I’m just here to work on my abilities so I can protect the Tree of Souls and help my homeworld.”

“As we all are,” the turtle agreed, nodding his head sagely. “But I’ve lived long enough to see the fall of heroes, who wanted only that until great power was given to them. Surely, binding dungeon cores to you would give you great power, Logan Murray.”

“And my Saturday nights would never be lonely.” Logan wanted to change the subject because talking about being a power-hungry supervillain wasn’t all that entertaining. “Hey, Professor Ikgix, since you’re connected to the thirteen dungeons as well as the Tartarucha Cells, what’s your stance on Cardinal Dungeons theory?”

The turtle chuckled. “Oh, you’re curious about the attacks and the murder. I’m sorry, Tet Akhat, for your troubles. And I’m sorry to you, Mr. Murray, but my mind isn’t what it was once. I have enough duties to keep my attentions splintered, with running the Tartarucha Cells and lending my Apothos to various enterprises here on Arborea. I very much believe in the Cardinal Dungeons theory, and that out of the thirteen celestial nodes, there are four that are more powerful. We are keeping an eye on the Bloodrock, to the north, for if there is more trouble, we believe it will be there. Now, hurry along, friends. Hurry along. There are other students wishing to practice their skills.”

The iron-fitted doors creaked open, spilling ghostly green light onto the cobblestones.

Logan and Tet bowed and took their leave. Logan thought that the turtle professor looked familiar, but he was having trouble putting his finger on it. Professor Ikgix was an enigma, ancient beyond reckoning, with a shell as cracked as his core gem. Usually, a broken core meant death, but Ikgix proved you could survive such a wound. And he was powerful, able to run over fifty Threshing dungeons at a time.

It was clear that Ikgix was close to Shadowcroft, and that they had some special kind of relationship, which was good. Everyone, even the headmasters of dungeons schools, needed friends. But no one seemed to know much about the ancient tortoises beyond that.

Logan put Ikgix from mind as he and Tet entered the Tartarucha cells and made their way down a single dusty corridor to the inner sanctum, a simple room with blank walls and a stone pedestal. They wouldn’t have access to the simulated Vralkag until their mid-term in two weeks, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t find other ways to practice. In Logan’s experience, a good Symbiotic bond was less about the situation and more about finding ways to augment and complement each other’s strengths and weaknesses. But there was a balance to it, and figuring out that balance was the real trick.

Logan was now a tad taller than the cat woman. Again, he felt both strange and awkward in his new body—like a gangly teen who’d just gone through a growth spurt. “Uh, Tet, so I’m going to… we need to… you see, I have these Symbiosis spores. I exhale them, and you breathe them in, and then, uh, things happen.”

Tet grinned. “I know what’s involved. When you offered, I perused Immelda Menagerie Inkboon’s The Eternal Monsters of Our Infinite Selvesand found information on fungaloids. I’m trusting you, Logan Murray, which I haven’t done with anyone outside the Coptic Champions. Ever. You are the very definition of an outsider. Yet, I see how faithful you are to your friends, especially the ridiculous goat boy.”

“Marko.” Logan chuckled. Thinking about his ridiculous friend made Logan smile. He was still ridiculous, true, but the satyr had grown so much. They’d done the right thing by saving him. “All right, Tet. Let’s get started. And it’ll be best if we stay connected until the mid-term. In the end, we’ll have to anticipate each other’s thoughts in the Tartarucha Cells.”

She nodded, her green eyes staring intensely at him.

Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Logan let the Symbiosis spores drop from his gills.

Tet inhaled the glittering droplets. In seconds, the crystalline fungal growths spread like morning dew, creating a sparkle that enhanced her sleek black fur. Around her head a light dusting of spores took root.

Tet-Akhat has accepted Symbiotic Bonding!

Notice: As the Infecting Agent, you alone can terminate the Symbiotic bond. In addition, you will receive 10% of all Apothos cultivated by Tet-Akhat from this point forward. Bonding initiating in 3… 2… 1…

Logan was hit with a million memories of Tet all at once—a tsunami of images and thoughts and sensations. She was far older than she appeared. He was given flashes of desert sunsets, the hot sun blazing as it sunk down to the horizon. Tall statues in a parallel line caught the crimson rays casting long shadows behind them onto the sands of the Spectral Desert. Those shadows seem to come alive and grow eyes, but it was just a trick of the light. However, the Spectral Desert was very well named. It lay on the continent of Kemet Kemal on Eritreus—what amounted to the capital world of the Ashvattha universe.

Logan had been there before to visit the Slaughter Pits of Kyvandry Spencer. He’d felt the abundance of Apothos, but not like in the Spectral Desert. He could literally taste the energy in the air and smell the sweet perfume of the Tree of Souls. His connection to Tet was more intense than with Inga, but maybe that made sense—she was an Azure Branch Cultivator, after all. Just like him. He let that thought drift away and dove back into the stream of her consciousness.

Tet had grown up in a fishing village, some nowhere place, where the air stank of the marshy inlet. She’d never fit in. She’d never wanted the treasures others wanted, nor did she want the burden of familial responsibilities. She’d never wanted marriage, never desired to tend to children as they scampered and played among the river shallows. Always, her sight had been fixed on the grand pyramids of the Coptic Champions, looming far off on the horizon. Alluring beacons of promise and power. She spent long hours alone, walking the shoreline, or oaring her skiff across the wine-dark waves, breathing in the Apothos of Eritreus, all the while knowing the Tree of Souls was in danger.

She couldn’t shake that simple idea—that not just her world would die, but all worlds would die if the dungeoneering guilds had their way. Their greed and lust for power had to be stopped.

She was twelve when she made the journey inland, into the Spectral Desert, against the wishes of her family. Her parents thought she was insane. She wasn’t. She cared for them, for her brothers and sisters well as their village. But she didn’t want their life. She wanted something else. Something more.

Logan was taken aback by her passion, even at such a young age. And he was sad that she’d grown up so alone. She’d never really experienced esprit de corp—friendship and comradery—not like he had.

The shoreline faded, and he was abruptly plunged into another memory. A baptism by fire administered by the Coptic Elders. A grueling challenge of grit and determination, that tested combat prowess, survival instinct, and raw cultivation. She scaled a great wall, navigated deadly traps, and battled an armored scarab the size of a bear. Then she stood before the ultimate test: a sucking pit of quicksand. Death. Above the pit was a cryptic message—only the living dead may wake to follow the rising sun.

She jumped into the sand and let it take her under, prepared to die, only to find herself spit out in the bowels of a great pyramid—the hall of Coptics. As an initiate, she trained for long hours with other boys and girls under the watching eyes of the statues commemorating Coptic Champions—great heroes of the past who rose to even greater heights, transcending space, time, and their own mortality.

Perfecting sword, shield, and spear, Tet rose in the ranks of the initiates to become an acolyte, and the physical training gave way to long hours sitting in the blistering sands, in the robes of the Coptic Champions, learning how to process and refine the powerful Apothine energies enveloping this most powerful of worlds.

Tet took to meditation as easily as she did fighting in the crumbling Djed Bomani arena near her temple. The Coptic Champions did not name their cities but lived scattered across the sands in their sacred underground temples that were marked by the statues of their best.

While Tet endured the maddening heat of the day and the frigid trials of the night, she dreamed of one day giving her life to a reaping dungeon. Once at a dungeon academy, she could hone her already prodigious skills to become a guardian core of renown, to protect the largest celestial nodes and go down in history as a true defender of the Tree of Souls. To have her statue added to the ranks of those in the Spectral Desert.

She felt sorry for others that they didn’t have a grand purpose. She’d seen such wretches in Aurora, the capital city of the Castinus Dynasty on another continent. Those without purpose were easily swayed by the rich and powerful, and their corruption made them weak and foolish.

The Emperor Augussux Castinus was as greedy as he was blind—a mere figurehead while the real power lay with the dungeoneering guilds. However, among the ruling families, at the upper echelons of the imperial court, there was the Diabolus Diaboli, a secret society, not unlike the Coptic Champions, who groomed the powerful to become guardians of the Tree of Souls. Those like Chadrigoth and his family. But, as she quickly learned, it was never clear with the Diabolus Diaboli if they were becoming dungeon cores to protect the Tree, or to usurp power from the Emperor, or to destroy the guilds so they could become the true rulers of Eritreus. For every noble member of the Diabolus Diaboli, there were two more seeking immortality and power for its own sake.

And that was the reason Tet had never been able to trust Chadrigoth because he came from a Diaboli family, one of the most powerful and influential royal families on all of Eritreus. He was strong, capable, and smart. He was also conniving.

Tet didn’t question her own motivations. She knew her true purpose, as did the other acolytes of the Coptic Champions, who came from across the worlds to train and cultivate in hopes of being chosen to journey onward to the afterlife where they would choose a guardian form and become a dungeon forever.

Striving day and night, Tet tied a knot, she advanced her core, and she further impressed the Coptic Elders who saw that she was truly special. Months, turned to years, turned to decades. Her human life was prolonged by her ability to channel Apothos through her core and out to her meridians. At the ripe old age of fifty, at the Ceremony of the Jade Flame, Tet-Akhat was chosen to enter a reaping dungeon where she proved herself by helping the core defeat a party of bloodthirsty raiders. She died in battle, but her mortal body didn’t matter anymore. In a moment, she ascended to the Shadowcroft Academy as one of its most prized students.

Of course, during the Threshing, she was chosen to be in the First Cohort with the best of the best, though she never fit in and didn’t want to. Like Logan, she was focused on the business of improving herself and doing the work. She couldn’t care less about the partying or the petty power plays. She wanted to give the Academy her best.

She’d always seemed like the ultimate stand-offish goth girl, but that was only because she’d spent decades alone, without ever really being a part of a family. While others in the Coptic Champions had friendships and created relationships, Tet was too driven.

Finding herself at Shadowcroft, in a more social environment, she felt awkward and unsure of herself. To make matters worse, she saw other people making friends, like Logan and the Terrible Twelfth. In some ways, she was like Melvin, except with more social skills.

All of that happened in seconds, and Logan realized he hadn’t had time to ask Tet how she felt about him looking into the shadows of her life.

Tet stood, eyes unfocused, mouth slightly open so he could see the points of sharp teeth. She blinked. <I know you didn’t have time to ask. I didn’t imagine the connection would be this… powerful.> She cleared her throat and glanced away. Logan idly wondered what she had seen inside his head. Joining with others was a two-way street. <We should focus on the task at hand,> she continued quickly.

Logan wasn’t sure what the task at hand was for a second. He’d just taken a trip through the life experiences of a remarkable woman, who had basically chosen to join a death cult to come to Shadowcroft and become a dungeon.

Yet, what exactly were her powers? What kind of dungeon would the cat woman run?

Logan was curious, but first, he wanted to see if he could find out who might’ve shattered Tet’s gem core.