Fungal Cavern

The tunnel wound back and forth, with a slight decline, leading them deeper into the mountain. It grew more spacious as they walked, until they needed to squint to see the ceiling, and the walls were wide enough to fit a small cottage between

The air grew humid as time passed, and the smell of fungus hung in the air. Cyrus tugged at his tunic, prying it from his clammy skin. After a moment's thought, he unhooked his cloak, and stuffed it into his pack. 

As Sylven followed suit, he stopped, and tilted his head. "Do you hear that?"

Cyrus paused. The sound of bubbling water filled the air, muffled in the distance. He scanned the tunnel going forward, and noticed a faint golden ray streaming through a crack in the wall. 

"Hey, dim the light for a moment," Cyrus said. 

Sylven waved his hand, and the ball of light faded until it was no brighter than a pale flame. As their eyes readjusted, Cyrus squinted, studying the far wall. "There. Do you see the light? It might be a way back to the surface."

"This deep under the mountain? I doubt it, but there's only one way to know for certain," Sylven said. They hurried across the cavern, and climbed rocks. 

The crack was just big enough to squeeze through. As they pushed out the other side, Cyrus's eyes widened. They stood at the edge of a vast cavern, upon a ledge above a sea of golden mushrooms, some of which were as tall as a tree. Throughout the valley, plumes of steam rose from bubbling pools of water, while spires of stone held the ceiling aloft.

"Incredible. I've never seen anything like this before," Cyrus said. He eyed the golden caps, speckled with bright red spoors. "Do you know anything about them?"

"If I'm not mistaken, this should be a cluster of nerophim, a rare mushroom used in both potions and poisons," Sylven said. He swept his gaze across the valley. "Most alchemists would live a thousand years, and still never see a sight like this. A few would even kill for the chance."

"Are they dangerous?" Cyrus asked. 

"We should be fine, as long as we don't inhale too many of the spores," Sylven said. He hoisted his pack further up his shoulder. "Come on. We've already made it this far. I want to collect some samples while we look for a way out."

They climbed down from the ledge, and made their way into the forest of stalks. As they grew closer, the stench of brimstone filled the air. Cyrus wrinkled his nose, and glanced up at the mushroom gills, fanned out above their heads. A light shower of the spoors fell around them, some larger than a gold coin, and adorned by a spider web of gold veins.

Cyrus stepped to the side as one fell past his head, and nearly ran into one of the stalks. Sylven pulled him back.

"Be careful. I've read that the stalks are coated in a substance stickier than tar. You'll have a hard time getting it off." Sylven pulled out his dagger, and cut a chunk off the stalk. Globs of clear mucus dripped from its sides, covering Sylven's dagger.

"How are you going to store it?" Cyrus asked. 

Sylven pulled out a cloth, and wrapped it around the block, before setting it in the top of his pack. "Like that. I also want to collect a few of the spores. Can you grab a few of the bigger ones?"

"Sure," Cyrus said. He grabbed a few the size of a gold coin off the ground, but Sylven shook his head.

"No, bigger than that. About the size of my fist." 

With that, Sylven walked away, heading deeper into the cluster. Cyrus frowned, and dropped the ones he grabbed. Turning around, he wandered around the outskirts of the cavern, stopping every few steps to measure a spore.

As the minutes ticked by, he allowed his consciousness to drift, merging it with the mushrooms around him. Unlike trees, which were single entities, the mushrooms possessed a type of hive mind, which felt foreign to Cyrus. 

From where he stood, he could tell exactly where Sylven was, and the mushroom's he had carved chunks from. His footsteps rippled through Cyrus's mind, like drops of water falling into an ocean. 

Curious, he focused on the mushrooms around Sylven, and provided them with aether. In the distance, he spotted a few of the caps brighten, pinpointing their position. In his mind, he noticed Sylven stop, and a moment later, his voice slipped through the stalks. 

"Cyrus, is that you?"

Cyrus laughed, and recalled his aether, causing the mushrooms to dim once more. Working his way back to Sylven, he hoisted his pack further up his shoulder, and glanced around. A number of notches marred the stalks, and Sylven's pack was now bulging.

"Looks like you were busy," Cyrus said. He held out a stack of spoors, larger than his fist. "Here. It's what I could find."

"That'll do," Sylven said. As he collected the spoors, Cyrus felt something brush against the edge of his consciousness. Furrowing his brow, he opened his mind to the mushrooms once more.

A ripple, much larger than the one Sylven made, broke through the stalks on the far side of the cavern, at least three leagues away from them. It stalked back and forth, winding its way through the cluster, but clearly heading towards them.

"-rus. Cyrus, are you alright?" Sylven asked, shaking Cyrus's shoulder. "Hey, I've been calling your name for a minute now. What's going on?"

"I think the drake made its way down here," Cyrus said. He shouldered his pack. "It's headed this way. We need to go."

"Should we head back to the crack?" Sylven asked. 

"No. We don't know where else it might lead. At least down here, we have a chance to get away. Not to mention the open space. It'll make it easier to dodge."

Sylven nodded. "Good point. Let's try losing it deeper in the mushrooms."