Stargazing

Kindness is like a light, especially in the darkest of times, when the world grows cold and the sun hides its face. Stargazing always believed that the world could use a little more kindness. One caring act can swirl off, as if picked up by the wind, and become a flurry of goodwill that travels far beyond the initial act.

Stargazing set out from the Sunbeam Ruins with a spring in her step. Her destination was the Starfall Isles, quite the adventure. In her way lay the eternal gloom, the Tangled Wood. She could hardly take her eyes from the dark forms looming in the distance. What did they hide? What kind of creatures dwelt there?

Getting in was the easy part. Getting through would be the difficult part. Now wrapped in shadows, it was hard to see the path ahead. Even when she could, the way twisted and branched into an impossible maze. Each tree looked the same as the next: prickly, bushy, and conical. Warped fungi grew from the ground in bulbous shapes.

Something moved in the corner of her eye. One of the mushroom's caps bobbed up and down, the thin brim waving in the air. She froze, staring at the movement. The longer she looked, the more her eyes adjusted to the sickly glow cast from the mushrooms, and the better she could see the outline of something moving around. It was an almost rhythmic motion, up and down and slowly moving forward.

Steeling her nerves, she approached. The leathery mushroom caps dragged against her as she pushed past. Without them in her way she could see it was a moonlight fungi, some sort of living mushroom. It paid her presence no mind as it leaned down to pluck at little plants.

Stargazing cleared her throat. When that didn't get its attention, she spoke up, “What are you doing?”

Without looking at her, it responded softly, “Weeding.”

She could see now that it had left some sprouts in a rough line alone. “You're tending a garden? Here? How does it, uh, grow without sunlight?”

“Same as mushrooms.”

“I- huh, I guess that makes sense. What is it?”

It finally stopped its work and turned to her, “A bit of a few things. Satin violets. Black tulip. Corpsemaker ivy. Flycatchers.”

It took great self control to not twist her face at some of those names. “Interesting. And uh, you eat those?”

“Yes.”

“Which is your favorite?”

It pondered the question a good while before answering, “Ivy is nice. Butcher's figs are best.”

“Why don't you grow them?” Now her interest was genuinely piqued.

“Used to. Bugs came and ate the crop. I haven't been able to gather more. Not sure there's much left in the Wood after the bugs.”

“Well then where does it come from?”

“Plenty of places. Scarred Waste. Sea of a Thousand Currents. Starfall Isles.”

“Really? I'm actually headed to the Isles!”

“When you come back, could you bring me one of those fruits?”

“If I see one, I'll try.”

For a moment silence fell between them.

“At least take the chance to taste one. Beautiful colour.”

“Of course,” she smiled. “I'll let you get back to your business then.”

The fungi turned back to its gardening without further acknowledgement. He was a funny fella, but the friendly interaction gave a new light to this place. The mushrooms grew proudly with graceful curves. Their soft glow revealed just enough of the path to make her way. Every movement in the corner of her eye was another chance to see a creature native to this quiet place. More relaxed, she made her way without any real difficulty.

Passing through the Scarred Waste was a little harder to embrace, but she tried her best. The drive to survive evident in everything there was admirable. Nothing troubled her too badly as she passed through unobtrusively.

Finally she reached her destination, the famed and beautiful Starfall Isles. It was a different beauty than the previous two territories, but absolutely stunning. There was so much to see and do!

Though her trip was informative and exciting, something in her mind felt drawn back to the Tangled Wood. What was once an imposing, mysterious mass had become a new world to explore and understand. She had developed a strange fascination in parts of the world that were obscured, hidden away. The shadows felt like a cover, a protective embrace for things that would rather not face the harsh light of day.

Strangely enough, Stargazing found, as most anyone would find, that once you got used to the darkness, there was more light than expected. The dim glow of mushrooms, small flashes from bioluminescent bugs, there was light to be found here. She was determined to become a part of that light.

Of course, before she headed back, she was sure to gather some butcher's figs.

Finding the Moonlight Fungi farmer had taken some work, and a whole measure of luck. Thankfully, it seemed it didn't stray too far from the little patch where she had first met it. When she did, she held out a double handful of figs.

“You… you actually remembered?” It asked, eyes wide.

She smiled, “Of course. You asked and it was no trouble to me. They really are delicious.”

“Thank. You.”

It tenderly picked up the fruit and stacked all but one on a nearby mushroom. It took a bite of the fruit and gave her a red stained grin, “They're perfect.”

Her gift given, they parted ways for a time.

When she happened by that little garden patch again, new little trees had sprouted, bearing dark purple fruits. She watched as a little satin pocketmouse scurried up, plucked one off, and began to nibble at it. Her fungi friend watched with what she was sure was a smile. Her gift was now a gift given by the moonlight fungi to others.

Not everything needed grand sweeping gestures of generosity that crashed like breakers against the recipient. A strong north wind driving a blizzard of activity and gifts wasn't needed. Sometimes, an act so small that a breeze could lift it was more than enough. A little glimmer of starlight in the enveloping shadows.