At the edge of the Arborspire Sacntuary, untouched by the dwindling infection of Order, a small amber chrysalis had been forming. It wasn't quite hidden beneath the foliage, set upon some open, earthy ground, but it was too small to easily be taken notice of. Only a couple inches long. Its day to hatch had at last come, the cracks barely audible under the birdsong and the gentle breeze.
The amber shell fell away, but no creature emerged. It was like an egg hatching another egg. The chrysalis was gone, leaving a second, smaller amber stone in its place. This stone, however, was threaded with strands of white root-like growths, a small tangle around its precious gemstone as if it had been caught in a bit of hair or fur.
And this...was where the mind was awakening.
Its consciousness understood that it was alive. It could not see nor hear, but it could feel the soft earth beneath it. It could sense nutrients there, food, and nearby, roots just waiting for it to latch on. But it had a problem - even if it grew to latch onto that tree, well, its stone would still be exposed. It could not move. That was a problem.
It understood that there was magic within the stone it held, the amber crystal that was its core. It pulled this magic and connected itself to the others around, those like It, the mycelia that had long grown into the soil, the trees, the plants, hyphae threads invisibly spread throughout this cave. And it looked for someone, looked for one that could move, that would be able to help.
Upon feeling for a Being, the movements of something that was not stationary, it began to whisper, an odd singular voice, whispering and echoing through the trees, emanated from some place close to the creature it had found.
It was a beacon - albeit, a fairly soft beacon and it would have to move the sound as the creature traveled closer (if it did at all), but it was audible, and continued to repeat until whatever it had found had listened to its command or moved on.
Eridanus, part of Lichen mourned the loss of it. It was the perfect home. Damp, lush, plenty of places to climb. Part of her always wondered if she was made to roam these tunnels, familiar trodden paths made them easy to navigate for someone without eyes. Yet, there was something profoundly wrong with the place that had always kept her away.
Gut feelings didn't have much of a say when it came to needing food, however. If not for herself, her warm-blooded companion would need to eat again soon. So, she weaves through the ferns, two feelers gently brushing over the ground; seeking fallen treats, nuts, fruits, anything that may fill up the gembound waiting back home.
A voice however, that gave her pause. Especially, when it repeated itself. Odd. It wasn't like something to wish to be found, most others were content to pass silently through the paths.
Venturing off the paths, a small spell of her own unfurled, she'd need something to navigate through the green...
...The world of plants unfurled before her, with caves as lush as these, the shapes of how far plants were, or weren't made it slightly easier to tell where obstacles were. So, Lichen pads through the underbrush, feelers reaching out for anything that may be by her feet.
@The Chorus
It was doing everything blind. Once it had released its magical sensors, all it had was the core mycelia wrapped around the amber. It only had to hope that the creature would follow along. It had made calculated measurements during its reconnaissance and it knew where it had planned to place each whisper. The voice would whisper
It felt excitement. Anticipation. It could do naught but hope that whatever it had caught had followed its line, following its trail here, upon the open grass where its stone lay vulerable. A perfectly round droplet around which its hyphae was wound, and the whispers would converge here, a series of
Lichen did her best to follow the guidance, it wasn't easy given the unfamiliar path. But, she could hardly return to her nest and leave whatever it was calling out. She'd heard tales of places within Eridanus; of gembound not being the same after an encounter with something within these places. Details were vague, truths had been warped, Lichen truthfully didn't know what to expect; only a vague hope this wasn't a poor idea.
The voice didn't seem threatening. Was the last thought to cross her mind before the voices had said she was here. Or it was here? She lowered her head, feelers brushing the soil in search of something living; something with scales or fur, something of skin and flesh. Yet, she found nothing of the sort.
It took several attempts, several passings over the lump before those feelers brushed something smooth, something gem-like. Which set off even more alarms in her head.
She reeked of the sour stench of fear as she cupped claws around the amber. Whoever had done such a thing, she didn't want to be around to meet them. On three legs, she was clumsy, but it was that or leave the amber behind. The dragon would have to make a break for the tunnels and work her way back -- Aurelle would know how to fix it -- if she could just find the tunnel exit...
...The mycelial network would show her the way. Her heart raced as panic nipped at her heels. Yet, as the network unfurled before her, so did something clutching the gem. Or, so she thought. It was difficult to tell what she was sensing. It was utterly unfamiliar, like trying to stare directly into a bright light, she couldn't make out the details of this thing she was clutching.
It waited, its spell having already died off, and then it felt something. A hard, cold skin pressing against the hyphae and then the ground left it. The distant call of nutrients faded and it left the soil as it was lifted in Lichen's hands. At first it was struck by fear - it was so vulnerable and helpless right now, it could do nothing to resist it - if this creature wanted to, it could pluck each fungal strand from the amber one by one until it was utterly dead. It could even do so accidentally and the life of this being would be snuffed out without a chance to grow. Had this been a mistake?
But it was gentle. It's voice vibrated the strands and it found it could string the vibrations into understanding. Words. The same speaking it had done to summon it here. And although it could not properly hear the tenor of Lichen's voice as she would hear its whispers, it understood what she said.
Its body? She held it in her hand. She carried it away to where she thought was safety, yet it feared, for it loved this place already, with its plants and warm, damp soil, and the nutrients so abundant. It was grateful and relieved when she stopped, her own panic halting in this unknown situation. It did not wonder, now, if it was a unique creature then that this one was unfamiliar. It had tasks on its mind, and it needed to begin growing. Nothing else was more important.
The suddenness of the voice had Lichen freeze in place. She tilted her head downwards towards the amber, as if that would somehow make it easier to hear the life in her hand if she put an ear towards it. As if somehow it'd make it easier to comprehend what this gem, covered in soft fungal strands, was saying. The concept of life wasn't unfamiliar to her, life was all around. Life sometimes had gems, sometimes a few didn't. And apparently life was still full of surprises.
Yet, once it clicked, it's body was here, the weight of carrying a whole life hit her. Her hold on the poor gemstone loosened, so instead of holding, she merely cradled the stone within her palm. It was itself. A whole being fit only in the palm of a hand. The thought was dizzying; that she'd just picked up the being without a second thought. That it could've been wounded from her carelessness; a predator she may be, but not for anything sentient.
Attuned as it was to chemical signals, shifts in temperature and humidity, the subtleties of all things around it, it felt a change in the one that held it. The slow opening of the grip around its body (of which it felt relief) and the difference in the vibrations of her voice clued it in to the changing demeanor. Calculating sentience was able to infer, perhaps, it was embarrassed to have carried it off so quickly without realizing that all of It was there, in its palm. Or regretful. It would accept either answer.
It reached for magic again, to speak, but its first failure stung its crystal heart as its voice was robbed of the chance. The magic slipped from its metaphorical grip, leaving the being in silence as it struggled to offer its voice once again, to direct the one that held it to the task it desperately needed.
As soon as it could muster the strength again, it tried again, this time the magic reached out and connected, and once again its voice would whisper slowly and directly into Lichen's mind.
It found itself able to form the concepts it imagined into words - perhaps the innate understanding of speech that came with the magic of a stone, but even this fungus could conceptualize its needs.
It would grow from there, expand. Reach more roots, more trees, more plants, encompass this entire forest if it so desired. Just one good, safe place to hide its heart.
The task was exceedingly simple. Much simpler than she'd expected from the being in her palm. Where the soil was damp and cool, a lush spot with trees and many plants. That, she could do.
The dragon turns her head downwards once again, letting feelers gently brush against soil. She had a half-decent idea from her previous spells, but damp was the one item from that list she was missing...
...The magic could at least point her in the direction of one of the streams. Then, she began moving, keeping her nose close to the ground; feeling out any obstacles before stepping over them, clumsiness wasn't something either of them could afford. One fall and they could both end up wounded, or worse in the case of this new being.
She snuffled along, pushing through the growths until she bumped into a tree not too far from where she'd sensed the stream. Gently, she lowers the amber into the shade of the tree. Had this been the right spot? Between using so many different magics to get a metaphorical feel of where she was, it was often disorientating to remember what was where.
Thankfully, long claws and thick fingers were made for digging. So, she dug them into the soil at the base of the tree, pulling up a handful of soil; it seemed damp.