Fiafia Haoa pulled her father’s hat lower on her head, trudging through the thick growth of the swamp. The air was hot and sticky and smelled of rot. It was a far cry from the Northern Bay where she had come from. It had been a long trek southward.
After the strange plague arrived at the port where she worked and lived, Fiafia tried to warn the village, but her heritage marked her as untrustworthy. She was the daughter of a pirate, and she was on her own in the world.
She had been traveling south, not sure what her destination was, when she had seen it. A great explosion from the volcano. The ground shook as if an earthquake had struck, and great tentacles as large as the mountain itself uncurled from the sky. As monsters descended on the land, Fiafia had run for cover. She sheltered in a cave for a full day before venturing out again. She needed to find out what happened.
Through the thick swamp trees, she could not see the mountain range anymore. She feared she would lose her bearings in this damp maze.
“Where did you go?” she whispered aloud, pushing her thick and wavy dark hair back from her face.
After leaving the cave, she had come upon footprints that led into this swamp. Lots of footprints, many of which were starting to disappear in the sludgy terrain. Most were humanoid, but others she did not recognize. She hoped they would lead her to answers.
A sudden scream pierced the air, causing her to jump. Several birds took flight, a few of their feathers floating down to the mud below. The scream was followed by others. Fiafia headed in the direction of the noise, increasing her pace. She crouched low, her hand on the hilt of her curved sword. Her father’s sword, a weapon she had not wielded since the day of his arrest.
The mud sucked at her black boots, but she was nimble and light. Darting over tangles of roots and under low-hanging branches, the young woman approached a rocky overlook and the source of the screaming.
A group gathered below at the entry to a cave. There were six figures, all with their hands bound behind their backs. Three humans, one orc, and two dwarves. They were mud-covered and beaten. Surrounding them were strange creatures that looked like giant fungus come to life, hunched and pallid monstrosities which moved in a lumbering fashion. Yet these were not the things the captured people screamed at. Staggering just inside the entrance to the cave were three other humans, but there was clearly something WRONG with them. At first glance, Fiafia thought they were undead, but they were not rotting. Instead, they sprouted strange spores and fungal growths. They uttered groans as they shuffled about, eyes rolled back in their heads.
Fiafia ducked closer to the ground, her heart pounding in her ears.
“Please, no!” one of the captured women shrieked. “Don’t turn us into one of those!”
A lumbering fungal creature pushed the screaming woman towards the cave.
Drawing her sword, Fiafia sprang forward. She dropped down with a shout and severed the arm of the strange monster. An almost luminescent green liquid sprayed out from the wound.
A mouth ripped open on the creature’s mushroom-like face, and it roared. Its other arm swung around with alarming speed and ferocity, slamming into Fiafia’s midsection. She flew through the air and crashed into the muddy ground.
The creature was already rushing at her. Not having time to catch her breath or wince at the pain, she somersaulted backward and to her feet. She struck out quickly with her blade, slashing a clean line across its chest.
“Watch out!” warned a captured dwarf.
Fiafia turned, just in time to avoid a tackle from one of the infected zombie-like people. The giant fungal creature aimed its fist towards her face. She ducked and spun out of the way, but she was suddenly struck by a third opponent that had entered the fray—another one of those fungal creatures.
Fiafia staggered, her head ringing from the blow. Her clothes hung heavy and wet on her frame. Movement was difficult across the mucky ground. She parried and dodged a few more attacks before another forceful slam struck her ribs. She felt cracking, and a pain pierced her like fire. Another overwhelming pain exploded from behind and seemed to rip through her body. A cry escaped her full lips while her legs gave out, and she dropped to the ground.
“No!” one of the prisoners shouted.
The world was a blur around Fiafia as she struggled to remain conscious. Her body felt broken and wet. The hulking figures of the creatures moved into view as she focused on sucking in one more raspy, shallow breath…and then another, each weaker than the last. She knew this was the end. This was how she would die.
A fierce battle cry suddenly drew the creatures’ attention. They turned at once. There was a flash of light. Fiafia felt the weight of the sword’s hilt in her hand. She tried to tighten her grip, but her fingers wouldn’t cooperate.
And then her world went black.
“Easy now,” a masculine voice soothed. “We almost lost you.”
Fiafia’s eyes blinked open. She saw a tree canopy overhead, shafts of sunlight breaking through the leaves. She was still on the ground, but she felt something soft beneath her. A blanket, perhaps? Two faces smiled down at her.
One was a male elf. His skin was nearly as dark as hers, though he had blonde hair and bright green eyes. He wore robes of various shades of blue.
The second was a female dwarf. She had fair and freckled skin with ashy blonde hair tied back from her face. She wore light armor that was stained and dirty from recent combat.
“Hello,” Fiafia croaked out. “Who are you?”
“My name is Bera Dallin,” said the dwarf. “This is River Hellondale. We’re lucky we came across you when we did. A few more minutes, and it would have been too late.”
Fiafia slowly sat up. She reached for the wound on her side, but found that the pain was gone. In fact, she felt quite well. “Did one of you heal me?”
Bera and River exchanged a brief look. There was a pause before he smiled humbly, glancing away. “Yes. You were in a dark place indeed when we found you. I hope you’re feeling better now.”
“I am. Thank you!” She looked around. She was not in the same location anymore. The swamp still surrounded her, but they were on much higher ground. “Where are those creatures?”
“We managed to scare them off,” Bera stated. “They fled into the caves. Those mycelia are nasty things.”
“. . . Mycelia?”
Bera nodded. “We only recently learned of them. They’ve taken prisoners from our town. We tracked them this far.”
“Those captured people were from your town?”
“We are from New Everitt, south of here,” River explained. “We were viciously attacked by the things that came out of the volcano. We had to abandon the town, barely escaping with our lives.”
Both of them looked down, sharing a silent moment. Fiafia took the opportunity to study them. Initially, she had seen only heroic rescuers, but now she could see the weight of grief on them. The dark circles under their eyes from lack of sleep. The scars and patched-up wounds from battle. They had come so far to rescue their people, and they had stopped to save her life. The selflessness touched her. She had never come across such kindness before.
“I’m from the Northern Bay. My name is Fiafia. The bay was hit by the blight, so I took to the jungle.”
River looked her over. “How old are you, Fiafia?”
“Sixteen.” Her tone almost challenged anyone to suggest she was anything less than an independent and capable woman.
“Praetoria has become a very dangerous place. No one should be traveling alone.” He eyed her weapon. “I assume you can wield that?”
She inclined her head. “My father taught me. Please, let me help you. Those monsters got away, because you stopped to help me. I must repay you.”
Bera smiled grimly while hopping to her feet. “It’s probably best that you stick with us anyhow. The world has gone to the lower hells.” She offered a hand and helped Fiafia up.
Together, the three of them strapped on weapons, gathered their belongings, and retraced their steps. Moving quietly, they returned to the scene where Fiafia had nearly lost her life. The mycelia and prisoners were gone, but the zombie-like people remained. Guards of the cave, she realized.
“What is wrong with them?” the young woman asked as they all crouched on the overlook.
“When the mycelia take people away,” Bera explained, “they return like that. It’s like they’ve been infected or their minds controlled. I think they are only husks for the spores, but I haven’t gotten to see any up close.”
“It is truly disturbing,” River shuddered.
“Alright, there are three of them and three of us,” the dwarf said. “I’ll go for the one in the middle. You two, take the ones on either side.”
After a quick countdown, the three sprang from their hiding places. Sword and shield in hand, Bera bashed one infected husk back before slicing it completely in half. River flung up his hand with a cry and a blast of blue magic slammed into his enemy, tossing it back against the rocky wall. Fiafia kept low and rushed the one on the right. She twisted into a series of stabs with her sword, her finishing stroke lopping off its head.
All three corpses dropped to the ground, the green gas that emitted from their wounds stinking horribly. River glanced down at the decapitated head then back to Fiafia. “I suppose you DO know how to wield that blade after all…”
The three quickly moved past the bodies and into the darkness of the cave, careful not to breathe in the fumes in case it was poisonous. Remaining close to the wall, they followed the cavern tunnel. It sloped down gradually, descending deeper and deeper underground. They carefully stepped around the water from the swamp that gathered in various pools and puddles.
Just when it became almost too dark to see where they were going, a light blossomed ahead. They reached the end of the tunnel and came to a large cavern beyond. Crouching behind a series of stalagmites, they took in the situation.
Six mycelia stalked around the cavern. Each stood over six feet tall and was incredibly broad and thick. A few tunnels branched from the cavern, and the space was lit with a few lanterns on crates. To one side were two large metal cages. The prisoners were there, three in each cage. They huddled together, eyes wide with fear. The entire place was humid and smelled of undergrowth.
“Those are our people!” Bera whispered excitedly. “They’re still alive!”
“I would prefer not to fight all of these mycelia at once,” River stated. “There must be keys somewhere to unlock the cages.”
“I don’t need keys,” Fiafia said. When they both looked at her questioningly, she added, “I’m an excellent lock pick.”
One of River’s eyebrows raised high, but he didn’t question further.
“I can sneak over there and unlock the cages if you two can cause a distraction,” Fiafia suggested. “Hopefully we can get all these prisoners out and avoid a fight.”
Bera nodded. “Good idea. Do you think you can stir up a bit of mana, River?”
The elf lifted his chin proudly. “I have just the thing in mind! Go on, Fiafia. I’ll draw their attention.”
The young woman crouched as low as she could possibly go, moving soundlessly forward and behind a stack of crates. She heard the noises of the mycelia grunting and snorting as they shuffled around.
From her vantage, she could see the back sides of the cages. One of the prisoners noticed, and their eyes lit up in excitement. Fiafia quickly held one finger to her lips, silencing them. They nodded and turned away from her.
The young, dark-skinned woman pulled her set of lock picks out from her belt. The locks were not far, but they were out in the open. Not only would she have to be incredibly fast to pull this off, but the prisoners would have to be fast getting out.
Biting her bottom lip, Fiafia prepared to step forward when there was a flash of bright, blue magical energy across the ceiling. Everyone looked up at the same time--including the mycelia. The magic impacted a series of stalactites that bordered a far tunnel. The stalactites crumbled and began to fall, barricading that tunnel. The mycelia reacted at once, rushing towards the falling debris.
Fiafia darted out. Getting to the first lock within seconds, she deftly picked it in a single try. The three prisoners hurried out, running towards the exit.
She then moved to the second cage. The sounds of upset grunts and huffs from the mycelia sounded behind her, but she dared not turn around. She quickly unlocked the second lock. The first two prisoners ran out. But the final one, an elderly man, walked much slower, wheezing. She held out her hand, beckoning him forward.
As he exited the cage, he stumbled and bumped into the door. It swung wide on its hinges, making an echoing creeeaaak.
Fiafia spun around to see all six of the mycelia had turned at the noise, the nearly collapsed tunnel forgotten. They bellowed and charged towards her. She yanked out her sword, steeling herself.
A streak of armor shot past, and Bera Dallin slammed into the first mycelia with her shield, flipping it head over feet. It landed so hard on the ground that Fiafia could feel the vibrations.
One of the barrels in the cavern burst open with water. The water moved like a great serpent and struck at another mycelia, knocking it from its feet. There stood River Hellondale, his hands weaving a spell.
As a mycelia thundered at Fiafia, she side-stepped, allowing it to stumble into the cage behind her. She slammed the door closed and snapped the lock shut. It reached through the bars for her, but she danced out of the way, turning to face another opponent.
This new opponent threw a series of punches. She dodged two, but one connected with her arm, sending her stumbling backward. She spun her sword around in a complex maneuver, just like her father had shown her, and lopped off its arm. As the creature turned around to hit her with its remaining limb, its head was blasted from its shoulders by a blue, spinning orb of energy that returned back to River’s hand.
“Thank you!” Fiafia called.
The elf flashed a smile.
Bera fought two mycelia at once, hitting one with her sword and defending against the other with her shield. She drove her sword through one’s middle, yanking the blade downwards and splitting it open. As it fell, the mycelia on her other side slammed her with a powerful attack that threw her from her feet.
“Bera!” River gasped.
He raced forward and spun the water around him like a whip. It cracked forward and split open a wound along the front of the mycelia. The creature stumbled. Fiafia rushed over and finished it off.
Bera rolled to her feet, staggered but alive.
The three turned to face the final two mycelia.
The two mycelia stared at them, then turned and walked away down another tunnel.
“Do we follow?” Fiafia asked, taking a few steps forward.
Bera held out her hand. “No. Let’s check on our people.”
“Bera! River!” The freed prisoners cheered as the elf and dwarf approached. “You came for us!”
Fiafia stayed back as the people’s bonds were cut, and they all embraced. It warmed the young woman’s heart. These people clearly admired River and Bera.
Fiafia wandered around the cavern, trying to figure out what the mycelia were up to. She barely paid attention to the conversation behind her. People asked what was happening, why they were being taken, and who was responsible for the attack on Praetoria.
“These fungus creatures crossed paths with something, a nightmare that must have spawned from fire and darkness!” one of the people exclaimed. “The demon mentioned something about a Chaos Legion. What is that?”
“I have no idea,” Bera said sadly.
As they continued to chat, Fiafia frowned at the lanterns and crates. The mycelia did not strike her as highly intelligent creatures or requiring lanterns to see in the dark. That, along with the use of metal cages and locks, suggested that something else was going on. Who were these items meant for? Who were they working with? What was the Chaos Legion?
“You are thinking what I am thinking.” River’s voice sounded over her shoulder. When she glanced back at him, she saw his arms were crossed and his brow furrowed. “There are layers of malicious intent here,” he continued. “These mycelia are reporting to someone much more strategic and probably much more powerful.”
Fiafia nodded. “Yes. I think this is just the tip of something much bigger.”
They both looked at the tunnel the mycelia had vanished into.
Fiafia answered the unspoken question. “I want to know. I want to stop it. Let’s follow these creatures.”
River inclined his head, his large eyes staring at her as if trying to judge her motivations. After a moment, he seemed satisfied. He nodded and went to talk to Bera.
Fiafia glanced down at her reflection in her father’s sword. He would be proud of her, she thought. Not necessarily for rescuing others, as that was never his concern. But for her bravery. For her strength and determination. She smiled.
Bera and River returned, and the dwarf explained, “The people are going to exit on their own and make their way to the closest town. If the gods favor us, they will arrive safely. You should go with them.”
Fiafia’s eyes flashed. She said nothing. Bera chuckled. “Very well. You’re with us.”
They all looked into the darkness of the tunnel. It sat watchful and quiet, beckoning them deeper.
“Are you both ready?” Bera asked, her chin held high and shoulders back.
“For New Everitt and all of Praetoria,” River stated.
Fiafia tipped her pirate hat. “For freedom.”
As one, they entered the tunnel and ventured deeper into the ground.
Collect special Limited NFTs related to this story at https://www.splintertalk.io/nfts/
Credits:
Story: Ashley & Scott Roepel
Character Art (cover): Candycal
Illustrations: Mateusz Majewski
Voice Acting: David Dahdah
Music / Post-Production: Isaria
Creative Director: Nate Aguila
