Marvin grew distressed as the woods around him darkened. The sun had vanished into the trees hours ago, and now the light that bled through the old forest was gradually dying out, like the last embers of a campfire. His boots stomped upon the bed of twigs and leaves in a quick tempo: the beating of an anxious heart, or the ticking down of a clock.
Thud, thud, thud. Thud, thud, thud. Thud, thud, thud.
He could feel his probability of success drain with each triplet of the beat. The odds of him succeeding in his task - and, in parallel, of ever leaving these old woods - were nibbled away by the languid approach of night.
His company - the elder neophytes and devotees that led him to the forest - were camping out away from the tree line. They told him, "you'll head out late morning. We'll wait for you only until the second undern before nightfall. Just over a day. Do you understand?"
Most of Marvin was focused on maintaining his brisk pace through the faint trail. "There
is
a trail," they assured him. The minutes went by so slowly; impatience boiled in his blood. But as quick as he could force himself to walk, it didn't seem fast enough to keep up with the onset of night.
Thud, thud, thud. Thud, thud, thud. Thud, thud, thud.
"If you reach it before midnight, you'll be fine. But no later. Understand?"
Marvin chewed his lower lip. He found his current predicament unbearable, so he looked inward to the past:
Admittance into the College of Sister Clothilde,
the
university for natural science in the Imperial realm of Vesitha, was so far the proudest achievement of his life. He recalled his elation during the ceremony where he was sworn in as an honorary neophyte (a
man
at such an institution!) It was like a dream - he worried he would awaken at any moment. And then, just a year and a half into his studies, there came to him an even greater opportunity:
"You've been elected for candidacy in the Holistic Society as a Colleague of Zoology," an honorary Sister, one of the head faculty, abruptly told him after a lecture. She asked him, then and there, if he was interested. Following a pause of thrilled bewilderment, Marvin giddily accepted.
"Make arrangements," she warned him, after giving him details of his new liaisons to the society, "you will face a trial. A test before you are admitted. I have no idea what it is, but it
will
be difficult and more than likely dangerous."
Days went by, and through gossip and breadcrumbs of hints from members of the society a faint picture of his trial took shape: some errand involving a bit of travel, hiking, and harvesting of an alchemical ingredient. A few of his fellow neophytes and acolytes (the female students), who turned out to be members of the society (the playful secrecy of the society was a bonus to its appeal) began to giggle around him: "heard you're gonna be taking the 'nectar job' this round, Marvin."
"Nectar job?"
At the camp, before he embarked, the devotee chaperoning the outing handed him a sack with a large jar inside. It could easily hold a full gallon. "Fill it up," he was told. "From what?" he asked. "You'll know. You'll know exactly what to do," the devotee said, smirking, "
if
you're society material."
Marvin poured over his books and notes. He had been given enough to fill in the blanks. The ominous comments from his elders and the jeering from his peers served a deliberate purpose: precious clues.
The keyword
nectar
told Marvin that he would be tasked with harvesting a sample from some rare plant or another. Another keyword,
danger
, made it clear this wouldn't be a common flower.
It
had
to be a plantkin: an anthromorph of flowers, trees, or any other species of the kingdom of
plantae
. Vesithan laypersons had many names for them and their varieties:
alarune
,
dyriad
,
flower maiden
,
vine demon
...
This forest had carnivorous plants. And when Marvin saw the size of the jar, he knew - "it's gonna be a
big
plantkin, huh?"
"Just over a day. Stick to the trail. Fill it up," the chaperone summarized.
Thud, thud, thud. Thud, thud, thud. Thud, thud, thud.
Lights danced in the distance between the trees. Fairies and god knows what else. But he stuck to the path. He was
sure
he was still on the path. He had to have faith in himself, and trust in fortune to guide him along.
Thud, Thud, Thud. Thud, Thud, Thud. Thud-
He froze. There were lights above him. He looked up, expecting to have come across a party of fairies. Instead, he saw what looked to be glowing orbs suspended by leafy vines. The vines cascaded up the trees, clung to the branches, and dangled the lamps, like lightposts for the trail.
The vines, he realized, were everywhere. Not only on the trees, but the earth as well. Marvin had no idea how long he had been walking on these vines. As eerie as they were, they kindled hope in him. He felt he was getting close.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
His steps were cautious, despite his way being clear. The intertwined vines actually made the earth beneath him uniform and more stable. Or were they roots? He noted that the glowglobes extinguished themselves behind him, and only those just before him lit up. Something knew he was here. Something was
guiding
him.
Thud. Thud-
He froze again - a silhouette just to his right! It was distinctly feminine, save for the head: he thought it to be a woman in a sunhat, but inched closer and saw it was a mushroom.
She was pale and still, and would resemble a stone statue were it not for the cap and scales that veiled her face. There were no limbs, but contours and bulges that resembled outlines of thighs, arms, and breasts.
It was certainly the most impressive bit of fungus Marvin had ever seen. He read about these so-called
mushroom maidens
, but nothing compared to coming upon one in the wilds like this. Even her "face" had features: calm, closed eyes, a nose, and a soft smile. Her stature was a slight bow, as though she was greeting him.
He left her alone and continued. As he progressed, he could pick out similar shapes between the trees. This place was littered with mushroom maidens!
Further in, Marvin began to detect a sweetness in the air. A good omen. Whatever he was supposed to find, he was close. He compared himself to a bug approaching a sundew, thinking of the other inhabitants of the forest. If he were an insect, or even some small mammal, with a greater sense of smell, how enticing would this perfume be to him? Would he be entranced by the fragrance, absent-mindedly wandering towards the source?