Chapter 5: "Mushrooms and Mayhem"
The forest outside Magnolia smelled like wet moss, old secrets, and maybe expired potions. Trees twisted upward, leaning close as if eavesdropping. Pale mist clung to the forest floor, brushing Kael's ankles as he walked ahead of the cart with theatrical poise.
Behind him, the wheels of the alchemy cart creaked like groaning old men. Leek, a wiry boy with constantly twitching fingers and a slight carrot scent (as Mira had promised), fussed over a map he couldn't hold straight. Merla trailed beside the cart, humming a tune that sounded like a rockslide if it had rhythm.
"So," Kael said lightly, eyes scanning the strange shapes half-hidden in the undergrowth, "are either of you qualified in defensive combat, emergency triage, or bantering with eccentric potion-makers who may or may not worship the moon?"
Leek squeaked. "I-I can throw things," he offered. "Sometimes they explode. Not always on purpose."
"Charming," Kael murmured.
"I punch things," Merla said with a grin. "Or throw them into the air, and they usually don't come back down intact."
"Excellent." Kael folded his fan and slipped it into his sash. "I provide ambiance and confusion. Together, we are unstoppable."
They continued deeper into the woods until the trees grew thick enough to cast the path into shadow. A fork in the road appeared ahead, marked only by a crooked signpost with unhelpful directions: one arrow said "Mostly Safe," the other said "More Interesting."
Kael stopped, tapping the base of the sign with his fan. "I feel personally attacked by this choice."
Leek stared at the sign. "Shouldn't we go the safe way?"
"That depends," Kael said, "on whether the mission reward includes danger pay. Which I highly doubt."
"Danger is more interesting," Merla said, already nudging the cart down the "More Interesting" path. "We're Fairy Tail. We're basically allergic to normal."
Kael sighed, but followed with a smile. "She has a point."
---
The path narrowed into a tunnel of tangled branches, and the fog thickened until even the cart seemed to float on a silver sea. Odd mushrooms lined the way glowing faintly blue, green, and in one alarming case, pulsating fuchsia.
"Touch nothing," Kael warned as Leek reached out. "That one looks like it will either sing or scream. Possibly both."
"How do you even know that?" Leek asked.
"I don't," Kael replied. "But wouldn't you rather assume I do?"
Merla kicked one of the safer-looking mushrooms. It emitted a low whine like a sad violin.
Kael arched a brow. "See? Emotional mushrooms. This is why I stay indoors."
They eventually emerged into a clearing where a wooden hut leaned precariously to one side, festooned with wind chimes, feather charms, and bottles suspended by twine. Smoke billowed from its chimney in colors not found on any legal spectrum.
"That must be the brewer," Kael murmured.
The front door flew open.
Out waddled a short man in a shimmering cloak stitched with stars, hair spiked like he'd lost a bet with lightning. He carried a potion in each hand and a frog on his shoulder.
"Finally!" the man barked. "You're late! The moon is growing bold!"
Kael blinked. "In what way?"
"It spoke to me last night! In riddles! And it rearranged my sock drawer."
"How rude."
"You understand!" the man gasped. "Finally! Someone who respects cosmic laundry sabotage!"
Kael stepped forward, voice like silk. "We're honored to escort your genius to the safety of reasonable gravity and lesser celestial beings."
The man handed over the reins of the cart like he was giving away a sacred relic.
"Beware the mushrooms on the return trip," he warned, eyes wild. "They remember who steps on them."
Leek paled visibly.
Kael just bowed with flair. "We'll tread lightly, dear prophet."
And with that, the strange cart was theirs, the forest already whispering new threats just beyond the mist.
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To be continued...
Author's Note: 🍄✨ This chapter contains two (2) mushrooms, three (3) instances of dramatic mist use, and exactly zero sense of safety. Please do not try this quest at home unless you also have a fan, a flirtatious attitude, and a suspicious immunity to apocalyptic tea. Stay sparkly~
— sky_xyn