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Ren watches, sitting in Grian’s seat as Resistance members file in, taking their seats and glancing at Ren, clearly confused. Ren’s exhausted, a detail made clear by the purple that was beginning to shadow his eyes. Once everybody was sat and accounted for Ren took his feet off of the table, sitting up straight and leaning forward, elbows on the table.
“Gentlespores, I thank you for coming to this meeting on short notice but it’s an emergency. It should’ve been called sooner but what’s done is done.”
“Ren, what’s going on? Grian called the meeting but he’s not here, is he?” Impulse looked around the room as if he missed something coming in. Ren shook his head, standing slowly.
“I’m here Impulse! Just… Not feeling well is all, so Ren’s in my spot!” Grian’s head poked out from Ren’s lab, giving a small wave. The Resistance began to chat, voices overlapping before Ren pointed the attention at himself.
“Everything can be explained, I promise. Grian is here so I can keep an eye on him and make sure he’s alright. I’ve been working for… A while now on what’s wrong with him and I intend to keep working, but me and Grian have decided that this can’t just stay between us.”
“What’s wrong with him in the first place? This is the first time I’ve seen him in like… At least a month.” Etho scratched at his cheek under his mask, eyebrows furrowing in a way Ren could easily read as concern.
“I’m getting there, the situation’s complicated. I need help researching but I want to avoid spreading what Grian has, I’m not even sure it’s contagious but it’s definitely violent.”
“Violent? I mean you make it sound like he’s sick. How’s a cold violent? Ren you’ve gotta explain what’s going on, I’m starting to get worried mate.”
“That’s the thing Stress, he doesn’t have a cold. Grian’s not sick, not the flu or anything like that, but to summarize from everything Grian’s told me some of the mycelium had attached itself to his lower back and it spread from there, apparently becoming sentient enough to think and tell him things. It bound his wings for a few days before he gave in and agreed to feed it, what it eats he hasn’t told me but my working theory is that it uses him for food like any other parasite. It gave him mushroom gills, a halo of mushrooms, and made him look really sickly.” Ren sighed, running his hands through his hair, trying to remember what he’d forgotten if anything.
A chorus of concern and “oh void” and variations rang out through the meeting room, smaller whispers breaking off, too much for Ren to really pick up anything specific.
“Well, how’s he doing? That- that sounds awful!” Impulse, caring as always, looked towards Ren’s lab where Grian’s head had popped out from before looking back to Ren.
“He’s doing better, it’s hard for him to eat, especially knowing when to stop. We think it’s something to do with the mycelium but we aren’t sure. I managed to get the mycelium on his back off and quickly found out that it can still move, similar to the Source,” Ren directed the Resistance members' attention to the Source and its own tendrils of grey-purple reaching around the pipes holding it up and reaching down. “But it moves faster than that, not even pretending to grow. It lashed out at me both in the form as it was on Grian and… And even using Grian’s body,” Another chorus, this one consisting of gasps and fear rippled through the members in attendance, Ren let everyone have their moments and time to process before continuing. “The fact the mycelium used Grian’s body, despite the source of it being removed, leads me to believe it’s not just an external issue, potentially having something to do with spores. So from now on, you all need to be more careful when handling it, wearing a mask at the minimum to prevent any or more spores from entering your lungs. ‘Cause of this that’s why Grian’s not here at the table, quarantine for general safety. We’re pretty sure it doesn’t spread like a cold but we don’t want to take that risk with you. If you have questions, now's your chance. I think I’ve covered everything I need to.”
Everybody nodded, clearing understanding, some eyebrows being furrowed in concern.
“But what about you? I mean you’ve been with him for at least a while now right? Shouldn’t you be more at risk or contagious than us?” Etho pointed out, raising an eyebrow and giving Ren a look that he couldn’t read.
“I’m definitely more at risk of catching it, yes, but I shouldn’t be in danger of spreading it. That’s why I’m here giving you this talk instead of Grian.” Ren tried to soothe the Resistance’s worries but if they didn’t believe him there wasn’t much he could do.
“You said you needed help researching right? Why can’t we try and help? Obviously we can’t be in the same lab with you and Grian but I know if you gave at least me some equipment and things to look into I could at least try and find something!” Impulse looked about ready to jump out of his skin, itching with the feeling of being helpless and needing to do something.
“You’re right… If I had at least a fresh pair of eyes looking at all the data it could probably help to find some way to really take care of this…”
“I can’t speak for everybody else but I know I’d at least be willing to help out. Three fresh eyes total can’t be too bad right?” Nobody could see Etho’s face but from just his eyes and eyebrows alone it was clear he was smiling, one of the smiles you make after telling a joke you aren’t sure will land. In this case, the joke sticks the landing with a perfect score and temporarily derails the meeting to let everybody laugh.
“I’m pretty sure we’re all willing to help. Even outside of this mycelium business, Grian's our friend! Of course, we’d try and help him. I’m not too great with numbers or anything but I like to think I’m good with plants, maybe that can help?” Stress offered, looking around at the table before her eyes landed on Ren, cloudy and concerned. Ren gave a reassuring smile before he began speaking again.
“Everybody who wants to can help. I’ll make copies of my notes and bring out some disinfected equipment so you can double-check my notes and hypotheses. I’m sure with enough of us we can figure this out in no time!” Ren grinned, filling the members with hope, easing their fears for just a moment to come together and believe, truly believe they could figure out what was wrong with their friend to help him.
Some long months after triple cleaned microscopes and laminated notes had been brought out, scattered around the meeting room and Resistance members had gathered in groups to align their thoughts, others preferring the quiet of working alone, handing their findings off to others. Ren even came out to give updates on Grian and his condition as well as his own findings. Over time with simple peeks of Grian’s face it was clear he was getting better, the slow but gradual return to color in the avian’s face giving the Resistance motivation and hope.
“Wait… Wait a second that- that doesn’t… Oh my void,” Impulse stood from his spot at the table, holding his notes as if he found the answer to the universe itself, making the others turn to look at him, leaving Impulse space to continue his thoughts. “It’s a parasite! It’s all a parasite!”
Impulse looked around to his fellow Resistance members who gave him quizzical looks, confused at what he was getting at. Stress was the first to speak, hoping to help Impulse explain himself. “I mean… Yeah that’s the problem, isn’t it? The mycelium’s a parasite and got our friend.”
“No, no! I mean, yes that’s what it is but the mycelium’s a parasite in all forms. Not just what got Grian. The Source, the dirt, the stuff on Grian… It’s all a parasite! There’s little to no changes between the three, the only changes are food! The mycelium we plant eats the nutrients from the grass it covers and whatever it finds in the dirt. The stuff on Grian does the same but I think because it’s eating something sentient it’s gaining that ability! The Source doesn’t have any particular food, that's why it grows so slow out of the three! It’s being starved!” Impulse’s hand frantically waved, desperately trying to make the idea clearer to his fellow hermits. Etho’s head perked up, one eyebrow raised. “But then why doesn’t anything other than mushrooms and mooshrooms spawn and grow on mushroom islands?”
Impulse’s eyes lit up as he started pacing, from the outside it looked almost as if Impulse’s thoughts were powered by his feet’s movements. “That's the big question, isn’t it? I think everything has an instinctual fear of the mycelium. Players being the only exception for… Whatever reason. Mooshrooms are cows already infected by the mycelium, tangled in its web from birth with no idea of life without it and with no way to get off the island; they just remain a consistent food source for the mycelium. I think mycelium is best spread through players and…” Impulse looked down towards Ren’s lab, the others in the conference room following his gaze, the last few words going unsaid but understood.
“So… That would make sense as to why it chose Grian to eat… But how do we take care of it? How do we flush out of Grian and everybody else’s systems?” Stress was the first to pull her eyes from the door, looking at impulse then her notes, searching through them like they’d give a clear answer in pretty pink ink.
“I think our best bet is limited contact with mycelium and just letting it flush through our systems naturally. Some healing potions from time to time if you ever feel gross probably won’t hurt but otherwise… I think it’s just something that’ll take its time. As both reassuring and nonreassuring as the idea is.” Impulse looked through his notes, tapping them on the table to straighten them out while the Resistance members looked between each other.
“I’ll tell Ren and Grian. Grian hasn’t spread anything to Ren who hasn’t spread anything to us so… It looks like we're safe right? We don’t seem to be contagious or anything so… Business as normal?” Etho stood from his corner, putting his hands in his pockets as he looks at the others.
“I… I think so. But yeah tell Ren and Grian, we’ll get their thoughts on it.” Impulse nodded, sending Etho on his way.
Etho knocked on the frame of the entrance to the lab, poking his head in to see Grian sitting in front of Ren on the floor, the aforementioned werewolf with a scalpel and tweezers in hand. Grian looked up from burning holes into the floor with his mind to Etho, giving a small smile since given his current position he couldn’t do much else, whatever’s happening clearly being a very important and careful procedure. Etho took a few careful and quiet steps in, simply waiting for Ren to take note of his presence to avoid startling the werewolf and causing problems with whatever he was doing. After just a few moments of silence, Ren looked up from Grian’s hair to him with a small smile.
“Ah Etho! How are you?” Ren carefully set down his materials, tapping Grian’s shoulder to let the both of them stand and stretch.
“I’m doin’ alright. You both seem to be alright as well which is good,” Etho paused, letting the two nod and catching a glance of Grian’s feathers shaking slightly as he stretched. “Impulse just pointed something out and we think he kinda figured everything out.”
Ren’s smile grows and Grian’s eyes light up as his head quickly snaps over to the masked man. Etho relays the information Impulse gave and just as he finishes his sentence Etho is pulled into a hug with Ren by Grian and his large and colorful wings as the winged hermit squeezes his eyes shut. “Oh this is wonderful! That’s such lovely news Etho! Thank you both so much for everything! Oh I need to go thank Impulse!”
Grian lets the two other hermits and the last thing they see of him before he runs off into the conference room like a force of nature is his eyes glistening and glittering with tears.
Grian practically tackles Impulse when he reaches the other man, holding back the joy spilling from his eyes and nose, ignoring the way it bubbles out of his throat and breaks his words like glass, instead focusing on Impulse’s warm body and his strong arms, the way they wrap around him and give him a bone-deep feeling of safety, something he can’t remember ever having.
More hugs are shared, tears are wiped and comfort is spread thick and heavy like butter on a fresh slice of toast and eventually everyone is allowed to leave. Normally Grian would leave last but after having spent so long inside and feeling dreadful he’s the first to run outside and shoot himself into the air, barely needing a rocket to send him into the clouds.
Grian relishes and cherishes the air that crosses his cheeks, dances in his hair, and runs through his feathers, tucking his wings in for just a second to spin like the wind itself was his dance partner before stretching his wings to their fullest length and catching an up breeze to raise himself higher, barely skimming the underbellies of the clouds with the very ends of his wings.
Freedom. Finally free. Grian is free. Once again Grian has survived captivity. He has survived and his wings give him everything he ever wanted.
The nights he spent sitting on his hands and staring at them to avoid plucking his wings till they were nothing but skin, muscle, and hollow bones being worth something, worth the silent torment he felt in the dark and quiet lab, worth the eyes he could feel on his very soul .
Because he was free. Grian was free. Taken out of his cage and let loose to soar into the sunset like he was meant to, like he would do with or without wings, always on the move. The mycelium’s hold on his brain and body had been cut and he was free.
Freedom. Finally free. Grian is free. And he’d never be captured again.