Published at 21st of July 2026 9:17 am

Chapter 195. The sporemother

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Iii do not know, Myhur said, shaking his head. But you were given permission by the priests rather than the council. Its unusual.

Hmm, I groaned, deep in thought.

It was hard to tell what it was about, especially with the structure of the hive mind in question. Was it a request from one of its components, Thalyssa, or maybe the deity itself? Without a way of knowing, wondering about it was useless, so I just sighed and then nodded in thanks to Myhur. Once the mushroom and I said our goodbyes, I went back to my pupils, who were still staring down at the tea.

Is it drinkable? Peter asked, clearly skeptical.

Should be, I replied, not even checking.

We spent a few hours waiting for the delegation to come back, but finally a knock sounded at the door. I went to open it, revealing a group of mycanoids in ceremonial brown-and-red clothing, embroidered with many different patterns, some related to death, others more related to nature.

Weee hope your body feeds a great tree, the mycanoid at the front greeted us.

I hesitated. The greeting was correct, but usually it would be more focused on rotting, yet here, the use of feeds was a different way of wording it. So he was a priest, but most likely closer to the nature aspect of their goddess.

I wish you a sea of moss fathered by your flesh, I said, coming up with what was hopefully the proper greeting.

I must have picked the correct one, as the creature seemed to enjoy my words, giving me a bow of thanks.

Plllease follow us, he said, and the procession turned.

We walked to the end of the ravine that made up the main city wing, until stopping at another door made of stones held by roots. This time around, the stone door was made of thousands of small stones fitted together, each with a sleeping face carved into it. As before, one of the mushrooms approached a tree to the side, and the roots moved the stones to let us through.

We walked along another corridor, this one lacking any carvings, as the walls, ceiling, and floor were all made of tightly bound roots, leaving no stone exposed. The walk lasted a few minutes until we arrived in a chamber before another set of doors. The chamber was beautifully lit by many orange growths, their light reflected in a crystal-clear pond in the middle. The doors themselves were also made of many rocks with faces etched into them, but these were larger, with each head depicted wearing a crown of leaves. In the middle of the mosaic sat the largest carving, depicting the face of a beautiful woman, the only one among all the heads with her eyes open.

We were told to strip and wash ourselves in the prepared cabins to the side, using the water from the pond, and then to don the robes they gave us.

Once the purification was over and we were all wearing uncomfortable brown-green clothing similar to the priests', the doors finally opened.

What the Ophelia managed to say while Peter just stared.

I imagined, with a name like Library of Dreams, they expected massive shelves bending under the weight of ancient tomes. To be honest, I had also hoped for something like that the first time I entered.

But the sight before our eyes couldnt have been further from that. In front of us, we could see a massive cavern. Much like the corridor, its walls, ceiling, and floor were covered with roots, but those were different. Each had small red veins running along it, giving the room a red hue. In the middle, the floor fell sharply into a bottomless pit, its walls lined with glowing green and blue moss that lit the space, mixing with the red glow. Over the opening, a massive root descended from the ceiling into the bottomless pit.

But the most striking thing was the dead. Bodies of dead mycanoids were entangled with the roots on the walls, ceiling, and floor, all with their eyes closed, looking as if asleep.

The priests bowed, and I followed, pushing the two down by their heads as they stared in shock. The head priest gave a short prayer, and we were let inside.

Peter and Ophelia stopped for a second, hesitating, as the floor was made of the dead. Ophelia took a step after a silent second, while Peter followed with a sour face, trying not to step on the faces of those making up the soft carpet under our feet.

What is this? Ophelia asked as we approached the bottomless pit in the middle.

Iiits the great library of dreams, girl, the priest answered before me. Our dead come here to rest, to join the hive, to be one with the cycle, he said, then looked at the main root and extended his arms upward, palms up in a gesture of reverence. The roots of all the trees in the forests you walked through to get here entangle with one another, creating one living organism, a system as ancient and vast as Thalyssa herself. They all come here, feeding on the bodies of our dead as we all join one whole. One mind, one death, one communion.

The mycanoid stayed frozen, gazing at the root before he finally exhaled and spoke again. Iiill give you time to prepare yourselves. Please call upon the priests if you need anything. He bowed and walked out with two of the guards, leaving a few priests behind. They turned to the walls, checking on the dead, as a few pulled out ointments and began cleaning the bodies, paying us no mind.

The two looked at me questioningly, Ophelia with a mixture of irritation and Peter with clear awe and confusion.

Thalyssa is an avatar of their god, Glyhentroll, the deity of rot, fungus, and, well, the cycle. But this is unique even for magesa hive of which the avatar, the god, and their dead are all a part. A rather unusual communion, I explained.

So thats a gods avatar? Ophelia asked, looking at the massive root descending into the pit.

I shook my head and then approached the edge, inviting them to do the same. They both looked down, once again widening their eyes in surprise. The pit was endless, or rather, so deep there was no way to see the bottom, even though it was lit by the moss and red veins.

The avatar, they say, rests at the bottom. Some say the pit is infinite. Others say its connected to their god's realm or that its an entrance to an even bigger cavern dating back to before the age of myth, to the time of the gods. But dont ask me whats true. I have no idea, I said, shrugging.

No one tried to go down? Peter asked.

I imagine many tried. No one returned.

So why are we here exactly? Ophelia asked, still gazing down into the pit.

The hive is like a library. It preserves the memories of their dead, their histories, and their knowledge. I could see Ophelias eyes widen, but I shook my head, knowing where she would go with it. You cant just ask for anything and relearn lost knowledge. Trust me, many tried, I said with a chuckle, remembering having suggested the same thing the moment I learned of it. There arent any books to search here. The hive acts like a massive community of people, so to learn something, you have to jump from one to another. You cant just ask for a piece of knowledge from someone who doesnt know it technically, I said, remembering the old apparition that showed itself to me last time I was here with my father.

So how do we get anything from here? Peter asked.

You ask. Once you connect to it, you will be surrounded by the dead. To find any piece of knowledge, you have to talk with the person possessing it. And to do so, well you have to get to them. You ask for a spell, you wont get anything, but if you ask for someone proficient with magic, one of the dead might point you deeper. Then you ask that guy about another mage he knew, and he will point you to another person until someone can give you an answer. But there is a catch. The dead can only point you to those they are aware of, those they know intimately enough for them to sense eac other in the hive. And the older the soul, the closer it is to the center. The more it knows about the hive, the less likely it will be to give you an answer, as they forget their individual identity. To learn anything about ancient times, you would need massive amounts of time, an extremely powerful mind, and, well, take a risk.

Risk? Peter asked, gazing back to the pit.

We will communicate with it. It wont drag your soul out, but it will connect to your mind. A part of you will become a part of it, wandering through the hive. I looked at them seriously. Dont wander too deep. You might lose yourselves within it, and I wont be able to drag you out. Not from something like that.

The two nodded, but then Peter frowned. But what are we looking for?

Ill look for information on hives. But you you each will look for something useful.

Useful? Ophelia asked with skepticism.

I nodded. Its hard to tell what knowledge is here. Who knows, if the hive takes a liking to you, it might even guide you. Ask about gods, I said, looking at Ophelia as she realized what I was suggesting. Or about souls and their shaping. I gave Peter a glance.

The two nodded, now serious.

And remember one thing. I looked at them. Coming here is a very rare honor. It might not happen a second time in your lifetime, so learn as much as you can, I instructed before turning to the root.

Taking a deep breath, I led the two to sit down at the edge of the pit in a meditative position. Once they were ready, we each cut our fingers, letting the blood fall into one of the thicker roots binding the bodies under us. I braced for the sensation, deciding it was better for them to be scared for a second instead of waiting in tension.

The hive was surprisingly mischievous, as it liked to scare the shit out of anyone who accessed it. Just like last time, without any warning, the closest of the dead suddenly moved. Their hands lifted from the tangled roots and grabbed at the backs of our heads. Before the two could react, small red roots pierced their skin, and they went limp. The same happened to me as I felt my mind drift away from my body, a pleasant sensation of being cradled by something warm accompanying the drift.

I opened my eyes, lying on thick green moss with dense fog surrounding me. Looking around, I could see mycanoids of all shapes and sizes standing still, their eyes fixed on something above us. I took a second to look up and enjoy the sight. It was a mushroom, a massive mushroom covering the entire sky, made up of many layers and shapes, its flesh bathing the foggy, mossy plane in a soft light.

I smiled at the sight. It was massive and incomprehensible, as even looking up at it was hard. The pressure slowly fell over me, not violent or sudden, but growing and encompassing, threatening to seep inside and spread me around softly rather than ripping me to shreds.

I tore my eyes away from the beautiful construct and looked at one of the mycanoids before approaching it.

I admire the trees growing from your flesh, I said in greeting, not expecting any response, and then moved to the question. I wish to learn of hive minds. Can you guide me? I asked.

The creature froze. Well, it was frozen before, but now it seemed as if the air around it had also frozen, in a rather unpleasant tension. Asking offensive questions could get one killed, but the head priest gave me permission. I was really hoping he hadnt become senile and had actually consulted the deity before giving me the go-ahead.

As I was readying to rip myself back out of the trance, the pressure dissipated, and a hand stretched out, pointing deeper into the fog. I nodded in thanks and walked in that direction, trying to keep a straight line, as losing the path and asking the wrong mycanoid might destroy all the work one had put into the search. Finally, I came face-to-face with another mushroom and repeated the process.

I wasnt sure how long it took before I felt the presence.

I wasnt alone anymore.

It felt strange, like suddenly realizing there was a mountain behind my back that I hadnt noticed before, one that was now a natural part of the landscape.

I smiled before slowly turning around.

Thalyssa, I said in greeting with a light bow before looking up.

To my surprise, instead of the ancient woman, who was standing before me was a child. A young girl stood before me, looking at me with a wide smile. She had black hair, greenish skin, and two glowing green, pupilless orbs in place of her eyes. One of her palms was missing flesh, leaving clean white bone exposed.

The avatar gave me a childish smile, a little too wide.

Hello, she said, tilting her head like a curious animal and waving the skeletal hand at me.

I frowned deeply, not expecting this. Her gestures were throwing me off.

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