Page 8 of I Married A Syllen

“Do not breathe the spores,” I screamed while gesturing for the others to follow me.

We started running only to stop seconds later as more of the white fungi began to swell on the Laurellis flowers adorning the bushes ahead. Someone bumped into me, almost knocking me to the ground when I abruptly stopped. My innards twisted as the path ahead from whence we first arrived now looked as if it was lined with white chrysanthemums so heavy was the amount of fungus on each flower.

“What’s going on?” one of the younger men asked. “Why are they doing that? What do we do?”

I jerked my head in every direction, looking for a safe path. However, the only other connecting path required us to walk past the visibly angry plants.

“What do we do?!” the young man shouted, grabbing my shoulder and brutally yanking on it to force me to face him.

I pulled my shoulder free. “Let me think!” I shouted.

Except, I couldn’t think of anything. I didn’t know what we had done to provoke that attack. Although he had been annoying, the foolish man who got himself killed hadn’t actually done anything that could have prompted this. How could we make amends when there was no offense?

At a loss as to what else to do, I did the only thing I could think of.

“Children of Mazeria,” I said, projecting loudly as I faced the Laurellis bushes, “we do not know how we offended you, but we implore your mercy. We mean no harm. If we intruded, we apologize.”

“What the fuck are you—”

“SHUT UP!” I hissed at the guide before turning my attention back to the plants. “We can see that we’re not wanted here. With your grace, we will leave at once. If you show us which way you want us to leave by, we will comply at once. We only wanted to admire your beauty, not to cause harm.”

When nothing shifted, the other guests started looking at me like I was crazy. In truth, I was starting to feel crazy as well. But what else could I do? I hadn’t sacrificed so much only to die here like this without a good reason.

As I opened my mouth to plead again, a wild idea popped into my head.

“Great Mothers, you who watch over the children of the land, please grant us your protection,” I said in what I believed to be the Syllen language. “We have a youngling in our midst and a female with child. Please, grant us safe passage.”

“What are you saying? What language is that?” one of the women asked.

Before I could respond, the leaves of the trees to our right began to rustle, startling us. We cast fearful glances in that direction. My heart soared when the fungi began to resorb in the bushes in that section of the path.

“It worked!” the guide whispered in a shaky voice. “Whatever you said fucking worked!”

My legs shaking, and my heart pounding, I started advancing with hesitant steps. The others huddled closely behind me. I could feel a couple of hands brushing against my back, with the pregnant woman latching on to my right arm, her son clinging to her right leg.

“Thank you, Great Mothers!” I called out in the language of the natives.

As we walked, the white fungi five meters ahead of us continued to resorb as if to indicate the way. However, to my dismay, once we reached the intersection, instead of opening the path north—which I believed to be the shortest way back to the entrance—the trees rustled to the south.

Swallowing hard, I followed, only for the guide to grab my arm and stop me.

“No! The exit is this way!” he exclaimed, pointing to the north.

“It may be, but the Mothers want us to go that way,” I replied in a slightly shaky voice. “I’m not pissing them off by ignoring their directions.”

The others muttered their agreement, and we headed south. We only walked about fifteen meters before movement to my left startled me. My jaw dropped upon seeing a relatively young Kandra tree. It couldn’t be more than three meters high, when they normally average five to six meters when mature. However, it was the ‘fairy statue’ supposedly ‘carved’ into it that claimed all my attention.

I couldn’t quite make out its body as it truly seemed fused or carved into the trunk of the tree. It was in a fetal position, facing us. The parts I could see reminded me of a cute imp the size of an adult cat. Its facial features were slightly humanoid, with big pointy ears.

It stared at me with big, green eyes. The skin of its face had lost some of the hardness of the bark, softening to something almost leathery, although some vines and moss still adorned it. The creature cocked its head as it examined me with a slight air of confusion. I realized then that the Kalrin assumed I was a Syllen when it heard me speak their language.

My chest constricted with a sliver of panic. Now that it realized I wasn’t, would it turn on us and wipe us out? If it had been dormant all this time along with the Syllens, had it just awakened to the memory of off-worlders being enemies?

“Please grant us safe passage out of the garden,” I said in their language.

Its eyes widened, and it gave me an assessing look before glancing at my companions. The Kalrin’s features hardened slightly.

“They are friends. They do not wish you any harm. Please allow us to leave in peace. We meant no offense,” I said.