Chapter 3

“But…” she said. “Then...then...how? Why?”

The day had turned to another moonlit night as they floated downstream. Jason was paddling with the oars made of lotus stem while Rillia had put the lotus vessel’s gearing system on a straight course. Beside him was his collection of mushroom “hats” that he’d accrued. Jasons’s hand had been bandaged with some grass from the surrounding area. They had restored their strength with some white berries, a type of fruit common amongst the grasslands in the ant controlled territory of Wassergras. Not only did it nourish them but it helped Jason recover from the poison that entered his system from shattering the black venom sword as white berries had been known to heal one from mild amounts of poison. Melsil was staring down at her as the ant sat on the edge of the lotus boat.

“I was drawn here by that boy,” the mushroom swordsman said.

He pointed to Jason before patting his sheathed blade.

“For some reason,” Melsil stated. “The White Spore sword drew me here. At first I thought it was merely to cut down the red mushrooms the mob planted but once I arrived...it gave me a strange inclination to your traveling companion.”

“To Jason?” Rillia asked. “Well...yeah...makes sense…he seems pretty weird and I’ve never known a creature like him before.”

“But I’m glad you asked why I turned on my own kind,” he said. “Very few ask about my reasoning...they just run away in fear or blindly accept my aid.”

“Sounds like they don’t appreciate you,” Jason said.

“I have never killed anyone under orders from my father or anyone else in the mob,” he said. “But as a child, I cared only about helping my father with his business as I believed serving him was the most noble thing I could do with my life.”

He looked down and chuckled.

“What a fool I was,” he said. “Thinking such a horrid and violent occupation was good. It wasn’t until I discovered that the Red Fungus mob is the most genocidal group in all of Wassergras. My family has been responsible for the deaths of almost three million people.”

Rillia’s eyes went wide with utter surprise. She would never expect a Red Fungus family member to ever state such a dark truth about themselves. Usually they either blamed other species like the Red Mountain ant colony or believed they were somehow doing something noble. The acknowledgement of their history of bloodshed was something alien to not only them but any species.

“After discovering that…” he said. “It hit me. That we’ve destroyed countless civilizations just to advance our own. What right does a people have to do that to another? I certainly couldn’t rationalize it. I asked my father to but he merely slapped me upon asking him.”

He looked down at the floor of the boat, laughing again.

“Uh,” Melsil said. “He was a class act, my father. Hated his kids swearing in presence but hated the idea of his children letting one of our targets escape. Trained us as assassins. What kind of father has such twisted morals the smallest of words hurt him more than the deaths of a hundred other innocent people? That’s when I ran away from home, thinking I could escape the path of violence if I never lifted a finger under my father’s instruction.”

His expression hardened.

“But something kept eating at me,” he said. “I would go to sleep, thinking that I was better than my family because I never lifted a finger to hurt others. But then, I thought, is that really the same as being a good person?”

“Of course,” Rillia said. “You look at the evil your parents did and didn’t do it.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Melsil answered. “You’re not a good person...you’re just running away from the sins of your kind and pretending you’re free of them since you didn’t commit them.”

His answer was disturbing to Rillia.

“So…” she said. “Are you supposed to be counted guilty for things you had no control over?”

“I don’t see how those who run away from their ancestor’s crimes are much better than those who continue their crimes,” Melsil said. “Ants...you stole from countless other species their land and wealth, you’re technology from copying those you conquered. From what I know, the Red Fungus partially developed as a way to combat ant imperialism. To be brutally honest, Rillia, I believe that you should be doing your best to atone for your ancestors' sins by both fighting against the Red Mountains’ illegal occupation of other species’ territory, give money to those that were oppressed by the ants and other righteous duties.”

Rillia scowled at him.

“So you don’t believe I’m a good person unless I go out of my way to undo their evil, even though I had nothing to do with it and a single person could never hope to fix hundreds of years of oppression?” she asked. “Should everyone do nothing but spend their whole lives fixing what they never broke...due to be distantly related to the actual criminal.”

She could tell the fungus man was smiling beneath his face covering. She was disgusted by his words, his guiding life philosophy viscerally disgusting her. She was so angry, Rillia wanted to attack him.

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” Melsil stated.

“What about him over there?” Rillia asked as she pointed to Jason. He was blissfully unaware of their disturbing conversation. “What of his kind?”

Melsil shrugged.

“I don’t know what his kind is,” he admitted. “However, I would hate for his gargantuan strength to go to waste if all he used it for was his own selfish desires.”

Rillia had never been so angry with a person in her life. Not even the most cowardly and complacent of the ants back home. And it was all due to their opinions of how one should live their life being absolutely opposite. Rillia hated the notion of a person being restrained by anything, whether that be their own fear, physical weakness, social prejudice or ignorance from pursuing what they wanted. And here was a person telling Rillia that she had to spend every waking moment undoing the injustice of people she had either never met or never asked to meet. In a way, she found him more dangerous than the Red Fungus.

For a person to not only believe but espouse such a radical notion… She thought. If other people were to hear of his opinions and be influenced by them, we would live in a world so concerned with fixing the past that the future would be a distant afterthought. How crazy would it be if grievances of our ancestors’ victims were the priority concern of every person and their governing bodies? I can’t imagine what that would look like but individual freedom would be nonexistent.

“You’re crazy!” Rillia stated. “Looney…! Expecting me to pay for a debt I didn’t accrue...and everyone else for that matter! No one should have to think of that!”

“And no one does,” Melsil said. “They’re all too selfish.”

“What are you talking about?” Rillia asked.

“No one actually does attempt to fix the mistakes of their ancestors,” he said. “When prejudice is brought up due to the abhorrent acts of another, rival, species, it is never used to contemplate their wrongdoings. It is only used as an excuse to hate an entire group of other people. If one person, however, looks upon the wrongdoings of their own kind and does what they can to give penance to the victimized group, they have risen above evil prejudices.”

“But you’re saying that everyone should do that,” Rillia stated. “And for everyone to be...be that...be that selfless it’s potentially harmful and wildly unrealistic. Not so harmful for others but certainly themselves.”

“Yes,” he replied. “Yes it is. And it would lead to a better world. If everyone acted perfectly selfless, even to their own detriment, there would be no wrong done in this world. Because I believe all evil comes from selfishness. And one way to ensure that there is no evil is to go out of one’s way to undo the errors of yesterday.”

She glared at him, highly offended. He’d offended Rillia in a way that reminded her of Distir. It wasn’t betrayal but a violation of her own personal code, to ensure freedom to herself. If she obeyed his ideology, she’d be more trapped than the Red Mountain ants by their own complacency and fear.

What she hated most about his philosophy was not that it was his own that he personally felt compelled to follow but that he thoroughly believed everyone should follow it. Melsil clearly wanted anyone living to die for others. This clashed with her personal belief that everyone should pursue their own freedom at the cost of others’ expectations, so long as they did it of their own desire. For Rillia, it was okay for anyone to believe or do anything but abhorrent to try to get someone to do something they didn’t want to do. She didn’t mind if someone had a desire so long as they never forced it onto another person or wished for another to. Melsil clearly wanted others to obey his philosophy he’d fashioned to a T.

However, she shook her head as he had brought up a good point that Rillia would rather kill herself than admit. If no one ever acted selfishly, there would be far less evil and suffering in this world. And Rillia had never done anything for someone’s benefit at the expense of her own. It just flew in the face of her ideal of perfect freedom. So, not wishing to end with the defeat of her ideology, she tried to play off the wrongdoings of her kind.

“The Red Mountain colony acts as a strong nation that keeps others in line,” Rillia replied. “Our military forces often took over others’ land as a means of forging peace. And our technological developments are far past that of other species. I don’t like my species much either but I won’t ignore the benefit they’ve provided.”

“You can’t ignore the disruption your species has caused to others in Wassergras, nevertheless,” he said. “Or the ants, to this day, dispute with species of territory that did not belong to them. But us fungus are no different. While the Red Fungus mob does not represent all my race, we’ve benefited from their exploits a great deal. We fungus people live the high life at the expense of others, no different than ants. And do you know how species justify cruelty to other species?”

Rillia wasn’t sure she wanted to answer, unable to give valid reason to trust him. However, she then realized as long as she kept Melsil talking it meant he was less likely to kill them. She searched her mind to find an answer he might like.

“Historical conflicts those species have had between one another?” she asked.

“Exactly,” Melsil stated. “The fungi say that the ants taking over land of the ants is justified since ants did the same to them. But the fungus people never bring up their own history of bloodshed when stating that. The ants say that due to the history instability of other species it is their duty to act as the peace keeping force of the world of Wassergras. The acorn and pinecone people despise each other just for things that happened hundreds of years ago the current generation never saw. However, any atrocity the pinecone people use as an excuse to hate the acorns the pinecone people have also committed against the acorns. To the people of the pine it doesn’t matter what sins their ancestors committed, because the acorns are worse.”

“So you’re saying that we should abandon the notion of punishing the children for their parents’ mistakes?” Rillia asked.

“Oh no,” Melsil said. “Quite the opposite. I believe every person, whether ant, fungus or acorn should take to heart what their ancestors had done and accept that they are responsible by proxy for it as well.”

Rillia shook her head in protest.

“That makes no sense!” she cried. “You just said you hated how other species use the excuse of forgone history as justification for further acts of violence.”

She could tell Melsil was smiling under his mask.

“No I didn’t,” he said. “I do like the idea of children being burdened with their forefathers’ sins. That is why I take up my sword in defense of those with no hope and slay the monsters of this world. It is because my race has killed so many that I must rise up and defy fate of being born into my race. I believe the sins of the father are inherited by their children and the child should act as such.”

“But…” she said. “But what about the cycle of bloodshed that you said resulted from such an idea in the first place?”

“That’s the weird part,” Melsil said with another chuckle. “Each faction wishes to use their history as a way to claim victimhood...until it comes to the atrocities that their race committed. They seemingly forget the horror of their own species’s actions while being hyper aware of everyone’s else. In other words, I, Melsil Dushil, am the only person in this world that truly believes in the notion of inherited sin. Everyone else claims to do so in order to hurt others...but I use it as an excuse to save lives at the detriment of myself. Don’t get me wrong...I do believe that all species are responsible for their kind’s crimes...the difference is that I don’t exclude my kind from that viewpoint.”

“But people can’t be expected to atone for sins they never committed!” Rillia said. “It’d be the equivalent of executing your neighbor for you stealing food. You think you’re a hero for obeying such twisted logic?”

He chuckled.

“People are not individuals,” Melsil said. “They are merely the collection of ideas and notions filled in their head by their own culture. My upbringing was no different before...learning how many people my family had killed. If you want for me to put it another way…”

He glanced to the side, trying to think.

“People are like branches extending from one tree,” he said. “They may be different extensions of the same organism, but they’re relatively the same at their core. The ideals of a culture follow that person even if they reject them, just as a branch is still a part of the trunk. They can’t escape who they are at their core.”

“But I’m nothing like the other ants!” Rillia said. “I’m adventurous and want to see the world! The others were content with staying home and living sheltered while I wanted to make something of myself!”

“But where did that come from?” Melsil asked. “Yourself? Did you just wake up with that desire one day?”

“Um...well,” she said. “No...I read about famous explorers and how they traveled to the Primeval World. It inspired me and caused me to realize how limited my worldview was. No...how limited our worldview was.”

“See,” he said. “You may have not been drawing upon the culture of other ants but the culture of explorers. That’s still a culture nonetheless, if a rather niche one. Cultures are less foreign food, exotic clothing and vividly dyed colors and more the biases and thought patterns shared between people who never met each through other people.

“So,” Rillia said. “You’re saying...there’s no such thing as individuality?”

He nodded.

“That can’t be true,” the ant said. “I won’t accept that as true.”

“Believe it whether you want to or not,” he said. “But upon realizing that my culture was one that celebrated loyalty to my family even if it meant the suffering of others...I realized that no one would do such a thing unless born into it. At first I found it comforting to believe anyone else born in the Dushil household would have done the same as my father’s fathers would have until I realized people were merely that willing to overlook evil. So long as everyone else was killing innocent women and children, it was fine because it was normalized.”

“I know that feeling,” Rillia said. “While I was willing to accept my ants being a genuine peace keeping force...I wasn’t willing to accept their complacency of life. But how can you say that the sins of one’s ancestors should make one want to do better?”

“Because if you’re operating on the logic that people are born into debt to others’ wrongdoings,” Melsil said. “It means you should do your best to make up for not only the mistakes and wrongdoings of your people as well as others. I believe that you should think less about exploring and more about how you can free peoples in Wassergras from the clutches of ants in your colony.”

She scowled at him.

“I’d never,” she said. “Why waste my life on the pursuit of others’ good? If all a person ever did was that, then we’d run around in circles of a never ending cycle of unearned sympathy. People need to pursue their own path and find their own definition of freedom. If, for you, that means destroying the Red Fungus mob at all costs then pursue it with all your might. But don’t act like I should do the same.”

He shrugged.

“Then you’re little better than the other ants you’re related to,” Melsil said. “Unwilling to aid in freeing others...you know, the only way to break free of the branch is to try and destroy the tree. After that, the tree that is now dead can be replaced with a new one.”

“Is that what you want to do?” Rillia asked.

“I don’t think I can revolutionize the Red Fungus mob,” he said. “My talents are not up there for such a daunting task. But I can certainly kill those unworthy to live.”

“Hmm,” she said.

The ant glanced down to find the strange sword at his side was now sheathed.

“Where did you get that sword?” she asked. “What type of blade even is it? I was under the impression you mushroom types only fought with black venom swords.”

“Allow me to show you,” he said. He unsheathed the blade to reveal its luster was as pale as the moon above them. “This is the White Spore sword.”

“The White Spore sword?” Rillia asked. “I have never once heard of something like that.”

“I’m sure you haven’t,” he explained. “It was a blade that was formed using fungi long since extinct that carries a will of its own within it. It was forged to protect no one except the innocent. My Red Fungus brethren tried using it as it was stronger than black venom blades and could even deplete any and all organisms with poison in their veins with a simple stab or slice. Poison becomes neutralized as a result. It was kept secret from all other species as a result.”

“Then why didn’t they?” Rillia asked.

“Because the White Spore sword is an organism that will not allow itself to be used by anyone who has dirtied their hand with innocent blood,” Melsil replied. “That’s why I was the only one to wield the sword in hundreds of years...because the sword knew I had never killed anyone undeserving of death. So long as I obey that rule, I can never be rejected by it. I stole before I left my father’s household.”

“What happens if you kill even one innocent?” Rillia asked.

“Then the sword will reject me forever,” he answered. “It is a very pure creature that despises the bloodshed of good people. It is only a warrior who has accepted the sins of the father upon my back that can unlock its full potential.”

Rillia rolled her eyes before walking away from the fungus man.

“Shame someone with so much power has to waste it on helping runts who don’t deserve it,” she said.

He sheathed his blade as the ant girl stared at the moon reflected on the surface of the water. She could tell the swiftness of the river due to the recent rain was beginning to dwindle. While she loathed the idea of another rain, Rillia partially hoped another would come to pass as she wanted to get a move on to the Primeval World.

When will I be able to keep my promise to Distir? She asked. If I make it back alive I could return and ignite that passion for adventure in him again...or is that a lost cause?

Chapter 3 Part 2

They arrived at Slab Lake by late next morning. Upon nearing the lake, more boats could be seen drifting down the river as they were now closer to urban areas rather than the relatively isolated wilderness they’d traversed early. Rillia had only been to the place a few times in her life but every time it renewed her sense of mystery and exploration. It all had to do with the type of stone that the Giants who made the environment was as well as its circular shape.

The lake was full of water from the river that it had been built right next to. The structure created by the Giants was basically a near perfect circular bowl that had been carved into the left side of the Blue River. It was very deep with a high dam along the curved edge of the large, massive bowl-like structure. With the large bowl of stone empty, the water of the river naturally filled it to the brim to form a lake that was even clearer than the river to its side.

There was a mud gate that the crawfish people had built to further control the water flow. The gate of hard packed soil the crawfish had built directly separated the water of the Blue River that Rillia had arrived through and the water within the lake. All the way on the other side of the lake was an outlet for water where the Blue River continued flowing out of the circular lake where one could travel deeper into the mainland of Wassergras.

Within the vast lake were various islands of mud with trees and grass planted on them. They had been built by the crawfish who lived there, as the stone slabs the Giants left behind provided good habitat for many aquatic species. The crawfish had really taken to the area in Slab Lake, not only building artificial islands within it but also their signature crawfish mounds.

The mounds were tall, often cylindrical or slightly domed towers that consisted of packed balls of dried mud. The towers of hard packed mud balls were constructed in such a way that surrounded a hollow middle section where their inhabitants could climb in and out of. The tunnels that were dug deep underground were in the very center at the bottom of the towering mound.

They were plentiful around Slab Lake where the crawfish could be seen climbing out of their homes before swimming through the lake. The crawfish species were not only amphibious in this regard of living on water and land but their claws were able to mould wet mud in such a way that it could be turned into many different objects. Their manipulation of mud was somewhat similar to the ants’ Venom Drench martial art but while the crawfish weren’t able to weaponize mud as well the mud made for a far more durable substance to make permanent structures out of.

No one knew what the Giants meant to do by making the structure that created the Slab Lake as well as other structures they had left behind but it usually created rather unique environments otherwise not possible in Wassergras. While there was little she could do to examine, it was still intriguing to think about the purpose behind its construction. Rillia steered the lotus vessel toward the mud gate that separated the Blue River from Slab Lake, she was reminded of the mounds of mud on each side of her.

Guarding the shores of the Blue River near Slab Lake were crawfish dressed in blue robes and carrying red bows and arrows. On those artificial islands stood crawfish. Rillia was fascinated with their species probably more than she was any other. She wished she could have been born one.

Their bodies were more lengthy than she was tall and they were covered in red plating, much like ants were. However, they had six thin, sharp pointed legs with long, finned tails attached to their rears. The front of their bodies had black, beady eyes with long antennae and large claws that, if Rillia was to lay beside them, were long enough to come up to the base of her neck. However, they also had a wide mouth beneath their eyes.

The crawfish were dressed in blue robes that covered them from directly behind their head all the way down to the base of their tail, with a yellow claw sewn in on the back to show they were a part of the Knife Claw army. The Knife Claw army was a military force of crawfish that guarded other crawfish inhabitants, serving as a protectorate force for their kind. The Knife Claw army were not only made of the most powerful warriors of their species but also used weapons made of their kind’s deceased scales. The crawfish soldiers manning the gates held red bows made of crustacean scales and arrows in quivers slung across their back. Each of the guards stood on a different island made of packed mud with wood poles that were planted into the ground in front of them.

Not only are they some of the most interesting species in all of Wassergras. She thought. And it’s not just because of their beauty. Unlike ants, crawfish are still exploratory. After the Red Mountain ants gained a large amount of territory in Wassergras, they stopped exploring the world and settled for living safe, mediocre lives in the ant hill. A crawfish’s ability to live in both water and land allows them to travel to so many different places in the world. It’s why many of the explorers I looked up to were crawfish.

However, Rillia also saw something else as she neared the dam. More red mushrooms appeared near both the lake’s shore and the mounds built by the crawfish than the place that she and Jason had stopped in. She understood the mentality behind the Red Fungus mob putting spores there. If the crawfish ever removed the mushrooms, the resulting toxins that would spread would directly harm the inhabitants of Slab Lake, one of the most heavily traveled places in the world. If the water supply were poisoned even a little, it would lead to no telling how many thousands of deaths. Anger began to rise in Rillia as she realized that the species and place she so admired was directly threatened by ruthless criminals.

After steering the lotus vessel directly in front of the gate, the guards leered at them. More specifically, at Melsil. The fungus man looked very calm as the two Knife Claw soldiers notched an arrow in their bows and aimed it at him. Jason looked angry and readied himself to fight as he raised his fists while Rillia sighed, hating the fact that she was causing the guards to raise their guard against her. Ants were normally on favorable terms with the Knife Claw army as they worked together to remove toxins from the Red Fungus’s mushrooms they planted. Carrying a fungus person that was obviously a part of the Dushil family around with her could potentially worsen relations between their kind.

“Is there any reason you have brought with you a Dushil family member?” the crawfish asked. “I was hoping for an ant to arrive to clear up all the poison the Red Fungus left us but I never thought I’d see a team up between your kind.”

“Is there any reason you’ve brought out your weapons against someone who’s just trying to help you?” Jason demanded.

“Melsil says that he can destroy the mushrooms the Red Fungus planted as well as the toxins they spread,” she said. “I saw him do it between here and the Red Mountain colony hill.”

“I cannot fully trust someone with the eyes of Juchil,” the other guard said as he aimed an arrow at Melsil. “That monster has taken more lives than anyone alive. Besides...what exactly is that pale thing with the black fur on his head?”

“But he has the White Spore sword!” Jason said. “He can eliminate the poison before it can touch the ground! And that’s because there’s no one like me!”

“Sorry,” the crawfish soldier said. “Not buying it. We’re holding out for the ants we called for.”

“And how long have you been waiting?” Melsil asked.

“Only a few days,” the crawfish responded with. “The ants have taken longer. I just can’t trust someone I know related to the Dushil family enough to let them in my post.”

“Deceitful criminals,” the other guard said. “Did it at night when we couldn’t see as well and were changing the guard. Why should we let you in?”

“Because…” Melsil said. “After Rillia excretes some of her venom, you’ll know there is nothing like my blade.”

“What?” the ant asked.

“Do it,” he said. “Show some of your venom. It’ll get this over with sooner than later.”

She sighed before willing some of the venom from her left arm to ooze from between her plating. The crawfish soldier unnotched an arrow at her, clearly thinking that she would attack them, before Jason stepped in between her and the projectile. He punched at the arrow, shattering the weapon made of red shell scales.

Just as she let out some venom, Melsil drew his sword faster than she could see. Before she even realized the blade had left its scabbard, the snow white blade cleaved through the rush of green liquid. Just as it leaked from her limb, the green liquid immediately dissipated into grey dust before turning to ash. Just as Rillia glimpsed at the flash of the extended white blade, the fungus man had already sheathed his sword.

“Wha-wha-what just happened?” the Knife Claw guard that fired an arrow asked.

“Was that even a sword?” the other guard asked. “It looked more like a flash of white light than a normal blade.”

“That is both the beauty and the power of the White Spore sword,” Melsil stated. “It is able to turn any poison into a substance that is actually helpful to plant and animal growth. The substance that turns anything with venom or poison is part of the White Spore’s being...a nutritious fertilizer.”

“That’s impossible!” the crawfish said. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Well you have now,” Rillia stated. “So let us in so we can get this over with. Any damage Melsil or any of us do you can rightly punish us for.”

“So be it,” the crawfish said. “But don’t think that we won’t be watching you!”

The Knife Claw soldiers held the top of the wood poles embedded in the ground before pushing it into the ground. After hearing a loud screeching, this caused the gate in front of them to open. Rillia steered the lotus vessel into the water of Slab Lake, admiring the constructed beauty of the place as she did.

Different types of plants grew on the artificially constructed mud islands, such as rising violet, a type of flower that’s pollen acted as a natural stimulant. She also recognized flower trees like the one that protected the Red Mountain ant colony from the downpour that Wassergras often experienced. Their dome like shape provided a thick canopy over the small plots of soil they grew from. However, the flower tree at Red Mountain was far older and, as a result, big enough to encompass a small forest and these were puny in comparison.

“Wow,” Jason said as he observed his surroundings. “This stuff is so amazing! Did you crawfish build this all themselves?!”

“Are you surprised?” one of the Knife Claw soldiers swimming to their side said. “Our claws are more versatile than you’d think. Not to mention wet soil in our hands is practically clay.”

“We can make more than this,” the other guard said. “You must not be from here, are you?”

“Nope,” he said. “I’ve never seen any of this before.”

“Makes sense,” the crawfish responded. “Never seen your kind before. Did you come from the Primeval World?”

“Eh,” he shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Rillia was happy to see the mud structures the crawfish had built that she observed upon arriving here last time were still intact. On the islands were fortresses made of mud as well as spiralling staircases that led to observatories and lookouts. Many were even decorated or armored with the scales of crawfish, something that their kind did very often as a way to both honor their dead and to not waste scraps. Rillia wished that she didn’t have to come here on such a business-like mission and could spend more time merely admiring the craftsmanship of what the crawfish had made.

Other ships besides their’s had sailed through the lake and docked on one of the mud islands. People from all over and of wildly different species such as ants, fungus people, crawfish and pinecone people walked on the artificial islands and went back onto their ships. While there, the travelers bought and traded for goods as the lake’s city had the widest variety of food and items for sale in all Wassergras. However, there were a few less than Rillia expected, which allowed them to sail through the lake easier.

The crawfish guards that had met them had jumped into the water and followed Rillia’s lotus vessel after they had closed the gate. Upon nearing a group of mushrooms planted by the Red Fungus, she steered her boat near the shore. The crawfish soldiers walked on the shore before they even docked their ship there, taking knotted grass that had been fashioned into ropes and swimming back to the lotus vessel. The knotted grass ropes, which were tied to the stems of yellow daisies growing next to the mushrooms, were stuck to the hull of the ship with their adhesive green ends. Once they’d docked properly, the three of them jumped out of the boat onto the pine strewn shore.

Upon arriving onto the land, they found a crawfish that Rillia recognized as female due to her slightly smaller size and having two fins on the end of her tail instead of four. She wore a red robe with a blue eye on the back of her clothing. Rillia recognized this as the uniform of the Exploratory Pincer brigade, a group of crawfish who explored the region of Wassergras to find suitable habitat for crawfish.

Many of the explorers who Rillia read had traveled to the Primeval World were originally apart of the Exploratory Pincer brigade, so she looked up to them highly. She looked worried as she stared at the mushrooms growing beside the flowers. Upon looking at Melsil, she backed away in apprehension.

“Relax, Vesha,” one of the guards crawling onshore said. “His sword can...can get rid of these things...without triggering the mushrooms’ toxin release.”

“We saw it ourselves,” the crawfish said. “He’s a fungus man not associated with the Red Fungus mob.”

“Well…” Vesha said. “I fear all fungus men after I saw what they did downstream.”

A low, angry growl could be heard emitted from Melsil.

“What did they do?” he groaned.

Vesha looked as though she was trying to suppress her anger as she looked on at him.

“They threw stones into the Blue River further downstream from here until it was completely stopped up,” she said. “The amount of stones they tossed in was not only packed high and deep enough to reach the bottom before forming a small mountain but they did it very far.”

Rillia cringed at her words. She felt like she couldn’t breath at first after hearing the news. This put all her plans to sail to the Primeval World on hold. The notion it would take a week or less was now endangered. Rillia’s knees began to buckle as she struggled to stand.

“No…” she said. “No...no...all I wanted to do was travel to the Primeval World...no one’s done it in years...is it so bad I want to?!”

“They did?!” the crawfish soldier to her right asked. “How?!”

“The Red Fungus caught us by surprise where we were stationed thinly,” she said. “I was with my other Exploratory Pincer brigade members, exploring an area near the oak woodlands, and they attacked. I was the only one to escape with my life but I watched as they tossed stones into the water while hiding to find it completely dammed up the river. Now not only is travel impossible down the mainstream of the Blue River but we have a huge backflow problem that’s causing flooding near the oak woodland.”

“That’s insane!” the crawfish soldier demanded. “Why didn’t we hear about this sooner?!”

“Those creeps!” Jason said as he pounded his fists together. “I’ll pound them into soup the next time I see any of those Red Fungus thugs. No use sparing a single one of them if they can’t learn how to behave.”

“I think the better question is,” Melsil stated. “Why would the Red Fungus do something so brazen that would demand swift and painful retribution from other species?”

“The reason you didn’t hear about it sooner was because I was the only one to inform anyone,” Vesha answered. “I had to tell several others, not just crawfish but ants and acorn people, before I was able to arrive at Slab Lake. And the question of why they’re doing something so brazen…”

She trailed off.

“I think they’re going for an all-out war,” she muttered.

Everyone gasped at her words. Rillia shook her head as Jason glared in anger. The Knife Claw soldiers to her side shivered in fright while Melsil looked on in stoic dread.

“How can you be sure of that?” the crawfish soldier to her side said. “What...what would lead you to believe that? You can’t make a claim like that so rashly...if that’s true then...all of us are in danger.”

“If it’s a war they want,” Jason said. “You can count me in to fight to the death. I’ll put going to the Primeval World on hold if it means stopping innocents from getting hurt.”

Rillia secretly wished he hadn’t said that, the notion of delaying their travel plans a threat to her ambition.

“I have several reasons to believe that,” Vesha replied. “For one, not only would the Red Fungus not only block the river if they wanted to control all of Wassergras, but they’ve also been encroaching on Red Mountain ant territory. We’ve confirmed multiple places where they have planted their traditional red mushrooms in multiple places scattered throughout the ants’ territory. But what made me almost one hundred percent sure was the fact that they had planted mushrooms this close to Slab Lake.”

She turned to the mushroom right beside her, sighing deeply.

“This is the greatest source of commerce in Wassergras,” she said. “If they were to poison it the entire world would be turned upside down. There’s enough mushrooms here that even a small army of ants proficient in the Venom Drench might not be able to clean it in a day. They don’t do this unless they’re trying to send a message.”

“But how are they that confident enough that they could fight not one species’ but multiple?” Rillia demanded. “This is shocking and harmful enough that there would be an outcry from...well, everybody!”

“I agree,” the Knife Claw soldier to her side said. “The idea the Red Fungus are willing to start a war is unlikely as they don’t have the numbers to deal with more than two armies.”

“I...I actually disagree,” Melsil said.

Everyone turned to him with a look of utter horror on their face, all except for Jason who looked ready to start punching random people.

“What?” Vesha asked him.

“I never thought it would work…” he said. “But they’re gaining the numbers to start posing a threat.”

“What would work?” Rillia asked.

“The growing sentiment amongst the fungus people against others besides themselves,” he said. “Our species has had little in the way of natural defense compared to the ants’ ability to secrete venom and a crawfish’s naturally durable skin and huge claws. Our kind have...a troubled history with both ant and crawfish kind.”

“Are you trying to use that as an excuse for your people to kill our’s...no, the whole world?!” the Knife Claw soldier said.

Instead of turning to the soldier, he looked at Rillia instead.

“That’s exactly why I believe what I do,” he said. “Because of that very notion. When one brings up the historical plight of people, they only do so for their own kind for pity points and moral sympathy. And when one brings up the kind their people did...well, that’s ancient history.”

The ant knew what he was doing and she felt an incredible amount of unease. Rillia knew Melsil was clearly trying to guilt her but it was working so well. She looked away from him in face of such harsh judgment.

“You all want to moan and groan about the mistakes of others’ people,” Melsil stated. “But when your kind’s ill deeds are brought up...you scurry away in fear at the thought of facing it.”

“What’s your point?” the soldier asked.

“It’s the reason that they’re gaining so many new soldiers,” he said. “Up until recently, the Red Fungus mob was completely separate from the fungus people, despite what many of you may assume. The majority of the fungus people wanted nothing to do with that gang of crooks and feared them, many hating them for bringing such ire to our race as a whole.”

While the crawfish surrounding her began to groan in obvious resentment but Rillia knew exactly what Melsil was talking about. The Red Fungus mob wasn’t an army defending the fungus people. They were just a gang of criminals who so happened to use their people’s ability to manipulate spore growth to gain power and wealth. The majority of fungus people, despite having little to do with the mob, actually faced great prejudice as a result of being associated with the most lethal group in Wassergras’s history. Rillia was well read and brushed up on her history so she didn’t have this prejudice but those not as educated about the lack of connection between the fungus people and the Red Fungus mob were prone to it.

“However, that changed after the slaughter of Yellow Spore village,” Melsil stated.

“No!” the crawfish soldier nearest to him said. “The battle of Yellow Spore! Don’t try to act like your people’s loss of the battle that won the war was a massacre or something! Militants die in battle, it’s an inevitable part of life.”

“Then why were more than five thousand civilian fungus killed by Knife Claw soldiers armed to the teeth?” Melsil asked.

The Knife Claw soldier shut his mouth on that one. The war they were referring to was between the Red Fungus’s alliance with acorn people and the crawfish and ant alliance. The Red Fungus mob had ties to the government of the acorn people and, as a result, were dragged into a war between them and the ant and crawfish alliance.

Not only did they lose but the battle that decided the victor was one where soldiers of the Knife Claw army slaughtered at least five thousand fungus non-militants. The fungus people were still angry at this, the relation between the two species strained. It was not the only time crawfish had harmed fungus people as there was a long history of crawfish abusing their greater strength against the fungus people that had no training in swordsmanship. And, if Rillia guessed right, she knew what Melsil was going to say.

“The Red Fungus are using that to spread anti-crawfish dissension amongst the civilian populace, aren’t they?” she asked.

He nodded.

“The Red Fungus had been trying to remind everyone not only of the slaughter of Yellow Spore but other instances of crawfish killing innocent fungus civilians,” he said. “At first, the public didn’t believe in the propaganda. But as time went on...well, the hatred against both ants and crawfish by my people eventually led many disenfranchised youths to join them.”

Melsil shook his head.

“Their numbers are in historic highs,” he said. “And now they feel they have enough young, angry fungus people to take on the world.”

“And how do you know this?” Vesha asked.

“Because when I was being trained by my father,” Melsil stated. “That was all he talked about. He kept saying if only the fungus people realized their true enemy and united as one in the Red Fungus that we could accomplish anything...take over anyone. He treated people like pawns he could will to his own ends, if only he told them the right things.”

“Well at least you don’t hide the fact you’re Juchil’s son,” the crawfish next to him said.

“The propaganda of anti-crawfish rhetoric must be working if the Red Fungus are this strong in number,” Melsil said. “We have no time to spare in striking at the heart of their operation if we’re to fight them.”

“And where’s that?” Jason asked.

“Near the heart of mainland Wassergras,” Rillia said with a heavy sigh. “It’s where the majority of the fungus people live. That’s where disputed territory between crawfish and them for years now.”

“Precisely,” Melsil said. “We’ll head out there as soon as these mushrooms are cleared. My family should be there, plotting where it’s safest. If I can find them and challenge them then I could kill them...thus preventing the heads of the operation from existing anymore.”

“If you think it’s that easy,” Vesha said. “I’ll go with you to face your family.”

“Count me in!” Jason cried.

“Wait, no!” Rillia shouted.

All eyes were on her as she began crying.

“No!” she said. “Not on my boat! I wanted to go to the Primeval World! I don’t want to get dragged into your meaningless conflict!”

She began cradling her head with her four arms, squeezing her antennae in frustration.

“Every...time,” she said. “Every time I feel like I’m getting closer to my dream...it’s as though I get further away. It’s all I’ve wanted since I was nine.”

She glared at Melsil.

“You can take someone else’s boat,” Rillia said. “Because I’m not going through the portion of the Blue River that enters the center of Wassergras. I’m going to the Primeval World!”

“But what about the Red Fungus?” Jason asked. “We’re some of the few people who know about this and if we head out there we could save who knows how many lives!”

“I don’t care about saving lives!” Rillia shouted. “What’s the point of life if all you do is save other lives?!”

“But you have to go through the central portion of Wassergras if you’re to enter the Primeval World,” Vesha stated.

She was about to yell at the Exploratory Pincer brigade member before realizing she was right.

“Yeah…,” Rillia said. “Since the Blue River up north is blocked...I’ll need to sail through the Blue River that runs through the center of Wassergras. The river…”

She traced a curve in the air with her finger.

“It curves upon running through Usujin, the country of the fungus people,” she said. “I’ll be able to traverse it through that bend in the river and...and…”

“And then enter into the Primeval World as both channels of the Blue River flow into it,” Vesha stated. “You can still travel the Primeval World through water even if the section nearest is blocked.”

“But why would you want to travel to such a place so dangerous?” the Knife Claw guard to her side asked. “Do you have a death wish or something?”

Rillia wiped her tears away.

“No,” she said. “I just wish to see what no one else has...the stuff I’ve only read about in books. I know it sounds dangerous but…”

“I’ll go with you,” Vesha stated.

Rillia looked back up to her in amazement. She wondered if the crawfish was joking but no one usually made such a jest about the Primeval World. Her face was as serious as could be.

“The Exploratory Pincer brigade used to have a lot of investment in expeditions taken to the Primeval World,” she stated. “However, as the place proved to be more and more dangerous, our organization lost interest in such a place. People were too unwilling to take such a chance. Something I regret.”

“Then why go?” Rillia asked.

“Because expansion can actually help in aiding our future,” Vesha answered. “The Red Mountain ant colony used to be known for their explorative actions and nature until they gathered the land and resources to live prosperously. The same is possible not only for crawfish but others as well if we’re able to secure part of the Primeval World. With more territory, there could very well be less wars over land and resources. However, that’s only if we can tame the wilderness.”

Rillia rolled her eyes before considering the possibility of Vesha’s offer. At first she felt annoyed, hating that she didn’t find any joy in the adventure of finding a place. Her willingness to travel to the Primeval World was a cold and mechanical one, devoid of any real passion. Rillia saw her as little better than the ants at Red Mountain.

“But that’s incredibly dangerous,” the Knife Claw said. “You could die, Vesha.”

“I know,” Vesha stated. “But if it could help prevent wars like this and aid the crawfish, well...I’m willing to risk my life.”

“Good,” the soldier replied. “We’ll report your observation to the rest of the Knife Claw army and see if we can remove the stones the Red Fungus thugs threw in.”

“I think a more important matter is for the mushroom swordsman here to tell us the location of any Red Fungus hideouts he knows of,” the other crawfish said. “Chart them down.”

He reached into a pocket on the sleeve of his right claw to produce a map. He unrolled it to reveal it was a map of Wassergras, a red writing pencil attached to the side of it by rope. Rillia recognized this as one of the maps that soldiers in armies of most species used, the crawfish included.

“I will write down the largest concentrations of the Red Fungus,” Melsil said. “I’ve been to all of their hiding places that are scattered throughout Wassergras.”

“Alright,” Vesha said as she turned to Rillia. “After the fungus person here takes out the mushrooms, we’ll leave.”

“Alright!” Jason yelled before smacking his fists together. “Beating up bad guys, and going to the Primeval World! What a treat!”

Rillia felt relieved as she could continue on her way to making her dream come true.

Hear that, Distir? She said. I’m almost there. Our dream will come true.