Summoning was a bitch and a half.

Imagine reaching up, grabbing a fistful of hair, then pulling away from yourself slowly, deliberately, every singular pinprick of detaching follicles popping out a reminder of what you were doing. Now imagine that feeling over your entire body. Little bits of yourself tearing away to create something entirely new.

Well, almost entirely new.

By the time it was done, I was a sweat-covered, heaving mess, only partially able to remember why I’d thought putting myself through this was worth doing. And as far as I could tell, the process failed. There was nothing but me and the empty clearing.

I pulled the neck of my hoodie up to wipe the still flowing sheet of sweat from my forehead. It might be time to call this particular venture. I hadn’t exactly come away with the Master Sword, but I’d found some supposedly valuable alchemical components and nearly doubled my level.

When I let my now soaked collar drop from my eyes, I found a spiky hazel face staring back at me.

“Meat?”

“Jesus Christ!” I fell back on my hands, scrambling away.

What the actual fuck, Awareness?

This flower was taller than the others by about a foot, it’s face larger and more perfectly circular. Its vines were a muted green. But the most significant difference was the dark violet petals that tapered from nearly black to violet. It dipped away from me with a hiss, its posture and expression a mix of confusion and fear.

That was interesting. Possibly why it had escaped notice in the first place. In my experience, summoner classes weren’t the most exciting to play in RPG’s. Either the pets did next to nothing, requiring the summoner to dual-spec to achieve any real damage, or they did all the damage—often while you played something else on your phone. The difference here seemed to be that its stats would reflect my own. Though I wasn’t certain how intelligent I wanted a flower with a taste for human flesh to be.

I glanced up from the system text to watch my summon. It had wandered a small distance away and was poking at one of the fallen flowers with an errant vine. I kept my distance, taking an indirect path for a better look.

The flower was bent over, its face scrunched in concentration. It grabbed one of the smaller flowers and shook it gently, then harder.

Not very useful, if it can’t tell the difference between a live enemy and a dead one.

I bent down to get a better look. Immediately, vines dragged the fallen flower away from me. My summon hissed aggressively.

This was a problem if it was going to be territorial.

Then it spoke. “Not… meat.”

Oh. Oh.

“Not meat.” I repeated, trying to convey that I understood.

Sensing it had my attention, it tried to speak again. “S-uh. Se-uh-see—”

I recognized the issue immediately. “S,” sounds are painstakingly difficult for those unaccustomed to using them. My sister struggled with them endlessly. But I also knew from personal experience how infuriating it was to have someone fill in the blanks from a stutter. It was better to let someone work it out for themselves. Still, if this enhanced speech was new, it might not even know how.

I kept my voice low and calm, enunciating clearly. “Focus on the words. Picture how they’re shaped. Say them lightly.”

The flower didn’t acknowledge my words, it’s face still a mask of concentration. I was considering how to break down what I’d just said into something more simple when it spoke.

“Seed… mate.”

That was unfortunate. It was heavily implied, based on context alone, but I still found myself disappointed. The summon’s memories weren’t wiped. It likely still remembered the battle, and how I’d killed its friends.

“Are you going to try to kill me?” I asked, not expecting to get a straight answer.

“Can’t.” The flower drooped a bit at the admission.

“Can’t or won’t?”

The warning came like a taser to my neurons, screaming for me to move. I darted back, just as a thorned vine struck out towards me. It extended out further, however, keeping me easily in range. I mentally prepared myself for the impact. But it never came. The appendage bounced off an invisible forcefield, bouncing helplessly away.

“Can’t,” The flower reiterated, sounding almost depressed.

I considered. It wasn’t as if I owed this creature anything, by any reasonable margin. They’d struck first and suffered the consequences for it. And the best way to manipulate someone with a simple mind was to elevate their ego. I could tell the creature that it had been chosen, and its increase in power was a gift bestowed on it for being worthy. Suggestion was a tool in my portfolio for exactly this purpose. But as I watched it, still lightly shaking its companion as if they might wake up at any moment, the idea of manipulating something so simple felt… cruel.

Straightforward it was, then. “Do you have a name?”

The flower perked up at that. “Want.”

“You don’t have one, but want one?”

In a very human motion, the flower nodded.

That was good. A simple motivator, easy to follow through on.

I spoke slowly, “Something bigger than you—bigger than me—placed you here for someone like me to kill.”

“Big… meat?” The flower asked.

“Big meat.” I confirmed. It was close enough. No way was I going to try to explain the concept of a system to a Helianthus.

“…Why?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I’m going to find out. So, you have options. You can rest with the others if you like. Or come with me, and learn the answer to your question.”

This was only partially a lie.

I had no intention of throwing away my only summon. I was about to push further into the dungeon, after all. It was pragmatism. I had to use what I had, and falling back on keening morality in the midst of this situation was foolishness.

But there was something distinctly unpalatable about the idea of enslaving a creature intelligent enough to speak and forcing it to do my bidding. That was a dodgy proposition on any metric, moral or otherwise. If it refused, I’d make ample use of Suggestion for the remainder of my venture, then release it on this floor on my way out. No matter how useful it was.

There had to be lines. Even for me. Perhaps especially for me.

The flower seemed to come to a decision. “Want to see… big meat.” It was both the creature’s longest sentence and its most definitive.

I smiled and reached out towards it. “Glad to hear it.”

Soft petals tickled my palm as It leaned into my touch, the same way a domesticated animal might. I rifled through my inventory and withdrew a bag stuffed with jerky, intending to feed my new acquisition.

Something snapped the bag out of my hands before I could react.

Vines coiled around the bag, the flower’s sharp teeth flashing as it tore through the plastic and disemboweled the container in graphic detail.

I tried not to think about the fact that something similar could have easily been my fate.

Probably best to keep you, far, far away from Iris and Ellison.

Happy with the outcome, I crossed the meadow, returning to the elevator.

Of course it has.

My summon followed into the iron cage of the elevator. It struggled with the changing terrain but adapted quickly, it’s vines forming supporting loops. The doors shut behind us.

It stared up at me expectantly. “… Name?”

“Oh, right.” I considered the question. Flowers were hermaphroditic, but its voice read as vaguely female. Then I considered the rest of it. A carnivorous plant that would grow in both power and size, with an unnatural fixation on meat?

There was only one answer.

“Your name is Audrey.”

Audrey bobbed back and forth in delight as the elevator began to move, rising further into the abyss above.