Chapter 98
Written by Bayzo Albion
And all of it... belonged to me.
I knelt beside yet another skeleton and caught a glint on its skeletal wrist. A bracelet. Dark metal encircled with symbols I'd only glimpsed in ancient tomes, rare and forbidden. I gingerly slipped it off the bone. It was unnaturally light, too ethereal for mere steel. I turned it over in my hands, puzzling: Amulet? Seal? Weapon? No answers came.
"What am I supposed to do with you?" I murmured, furrowing my brow.
In my other hand, I gripped an old knife, and almost playfully, I thrust the blade into the bracelet's loop.
Click.
The steel vanished. Just... gone.
I blinked, stunned. Pulled it back—and there it was again, sharp and cold in my palm.
Silence stretched. Then something inside me cracked. Laughter erupted from my chest, hoarse and unhinged, demonic in its fervor. It was as if I'd snared the devil himself by the tail.
"Ha-ha... Ha-ha-ha!" The sound echoed through the cavern, bouncing off the walls. "This is it! Mine! All mine!"
I collapsed onto the stones, clutching the bracelet with both hands. Greed engulfed me like wildfire, scorching everything else away. Inside, a savage chorus sang: Take it, hoard it, seize it all. The bones transformed in my vision—not remnants of the dead, but gleaming gold. Weapons became power. Mushrooms, a glittering future. Everything would vanish into this bottomless maw.
I lunged into action. Breastplates, swords, amulets, belts. Each item fed into the bracelet. Chunks of armor, weapon fragments, even shattered trinkets. All of it. I stuffed it relentlessly, terrified it might seal shut at any moment.
Time blurred into oblivion. Hours? A night? A full day? I couldn't tell. All I knew was bones and metal, my fingers grasping without pause. My shoulders burned, wrists throbbed, sweat stung my eyes, but I didn't stop.
And suddenly, the mushrooms resurfaced in my mind. That white expanse called to me, as if the mycelium itself whispered: "I'm still here." I bolted for the exit, stumbling, and raced back to the clearing.
The fungal sea assaulted my senses, blinding white like sun-glared snow. I drew my knife, sliced the first mushroom, blew away the spore dust with a puff of magic, and thrust it into the bracelet. Click—and it was gone. I retrieved it: fresh, plump, as if newly harvested.
Laughter tore from me again, raw and broken.
I set to work. Step—slice—purge—store. Step—slice—purge—store. I repeated the rhythm like a reaper in an eternal harvest. My fingers cramped, wrists screamed, but the flow of white caps never ceased.
I spared patches along the edges—untouched islands of mycelium. Let the forest believe its feast hadn't been stripped bare. Let it heal over, concealing my traces.
By evening, my knives danced erratically in my quivering hands. I set aside three mushrooms for the quest—duty called, after all. Tested the bracelet: it preserved their freshness perfectly. Good.
"Enough," I rasped. "I've taken all I can."
But my hands reached out for more, unbidden.
I huddled in the cavern's depths, cradling the bracelet like it was my beating heart. Everything was secured: every artifact hidden, every mushroom harvested, every coin and ring swallowed by this void. Nothing remained but bare rock and the damp scent of moss.
Yet a nagging sensation churned inside me, as if I'd overlooked something vital. Greed murmured: Search more, dig deeper, never stop. I gripped tighter, nails biting into flesh. It felt like loosening my hold would unravel it all into dust.
"Mine... all mine..." I croaked, my voice alien to my own ears.
My body trembled, eyes blazed, thoughts melted into chaos. Time and exhaustion faded; only obsession and the terror of loss remained. The world shrank to a single imperative: More.
Then my body betrayed me. I crumpled to the stones, clutching the bracelet to my chest, and plunged into unconsciousness.
– – –
The sleep was deep and dreamless, like sinking into inky depths. For the first time in days, my mind shut down completely. And that oblivion saved me.
When I stirred, faint light filtered into the cavern. My head pounded like a anvil, my tongue felt like sandpaper, my body ached as if hammered by giants. But inside—calm. The greed had ebbed away, like a fever breaking.
I sat up, drawing a deep, steadying breath. My hands still shook, but clarity returned. I was myself again.
I gazed at the bracelet, and for the first time, it stirred no primal urge. It was just an object now—dangerous, invaluable... but an object.
"It's under control," I told myself. "Everything's fine now."
I tucked the bracelet deeper under my clothes, pressing it close to my skin, as if fearing invisible hands might snatch it away. This wasn't merely a prize anymore; it was a secret worth killing for.
I rose and gave the cavern one last sweep. Barren walls, empty floor... only the skeletons scattered like silent witnesses to my frenzy.
A absurd notion crept in: Why not store them too?
I chuckled, startled by my own madness.
"Yeah, brilliant. Start a collection: 'Finest Bones of the Season.' Traders would haggle over whose skull fetches the highest price."
The empty sockets seemed to stare back with reproach. I smirked.
"Hey, no hard feelings. I'm definitely leaving you behind. You'd take up too much space anyway."
My words echoed through the chamber. For a fleeting moment, it felt like the skeletons grinned back—approving or mocking, it didn't matter.
I clambered out into the open air. The forest breathed easy now. The fog had lifted. Even the wildlife kept its distance. As if nature itself decreed: Enough torment; he's survived.
I trudged along the path, each step reverberating in my skull. My legs wobbled, shoulders throbbed, but a peculiar lightness filled me. I was empty, yet overflowing. I carried wealth that made my head spin, and with it, a shadow of fear.
Now I understood: this bracelet wasn't just an artifact. It was an abyss. It could serve me faithfully, but at any moment, it might swallow me whole.
And I grinned. Because I knew, deep down, I wouldn't stop anyway.
– – –
I wandered through the fog for three days without a single hour of sleep, then fought that mushroom-man— or whatever that baby-thing was— and afterward I looted like a maniac for twenty-four hours straight, grabbing treasures and magic mushrooms. If I weren't greedy— no, let's be honest, it was my love of looting everything in sight that kept me going… though why am I even trying to justify myself?
The journey back through the forest felt surprisingly effortless, as if the woods had finally grown weary of toying with me. The fog had lifted completely, the beasts had slunk away into the shadows, and even the branches no longer reached out like grasping fingers to snag at my face. It was almost as though nature itself had exhaled a long-suffering sigh and decreed: "Enough. You've survived—go in peace."
I was starting to believe the ordeal was truly behind me when, without warning, something cold and unyielding clamped down on my wrist.
I jolted, yanking my arm instinctively, but the grip didn't budge. If anything, it tightened, like an iron chain restraining a massive hound. My heart plummeted into my stomach, a sickening lurch that left me breathless.
Slowly, I turned—and there she was.
The Forest Queen.
She stood right in front of me, her eyes glowing with a deep, verdant light that pierced straight through to my soul, making me wish the ground would swallow me whole. Gone was her usual icy poise; her face was a mask of raw fury, veiled only by an eerie silence. It wasn't just anger—it was a lethal rage, the kind that promised oblivion.
A chill raced down my spine, raising goosebumps in its wake. I averted my gaze, as if meeting her eyes would be the ultimate insult. Inside, I shrank like a whipped dog, tail tucked between its legs, my instincts screaming that one more second under her scrutiny, and she'd crush me like an insignificant insect.
"Do you fear me?" Her voice was soft, almost gentle, but that velvet tone carried more menace than a thunderous shout ever could.
"I'm sorry..." The words tumbled out of me, my voice quivering uncontrollably. I didn't even try to sound brave. "I... I didn't mean to kill the Mushroom King! I was just completing a quest."
I babbled on, words tripping over each other in a frantic rush, like a thief caught red-handed. My breath came in shallow gasps, ragged and uneven.
"I'm... I'm so sorry..." I added, my voice dropping to a whisper.
I had no idea if it would make a difference. In that moment, I was ready to beg, to grovel, to lick her boots if it meant she wouldn't squeeze any harder.
Her fingers tightened further. This wasn't the grasp of a woman's hand anymore—it was the vise-like hold of a predator refusing to release its prey.
Pain exploded through my wrist, sharp and immediate, as if a nail had been driven straight into the bone. I jerked again, but escape was impossible; her strength overwhelmed me completely.
"I'm asking," she murmured, leaning in closer until I could feel the icy chill of her breath against my skin, "do you fear me?"