21. Chapter Twenty-One

I could feel my own excitement radiating off of my skin in waves. Aside from the entertainment of Laurel’s company, I rarely found myself looking forward to much of anything in my Bios lectures these days—but today was an exception.

Today, we were visiting the Irrosi Arboretum.

The fact that I had yet to discover this place on my own was a true testament to the sprawling expanse that was Sophrosyne, reminding me just how massive the city-state truly was—and how many secrets must be hidden behind its gleaming white walls. Because the Arboretum stood tall, located towards the very center of the Studium grounds, with a large, domed glass ceiling that glittered in the morning sun.

The building itself was a work of art, the intricate Irrosi architecture stunning to behold—but it was what it held within that truly took my breath away. The moment we stepped through the towering double doors inlaid with stained glass, I felt as though I had been transported to another realm—another plane of existence entirely.

High Scholar Larkin offered me a wry smile at my quick intake of breath, a hushed silence passing through the rest of our class as we were suddenly surrounded by a riot of color—vivid neons, soft pastels. It was darker inside than it had been outdoors, and yet the whole space was aglow, illuminated by natural phosphorescence. And while I had read about the towering mushroom forests of Irros, seeing it for myself was…

Fucking Hel, this was unreal.

Massive, spongey fungi sprouted up from the grounds, their stalks as wide and towering as the thickest of oaks in the Wyldwoods. Their caps were so broad and large that they could serve as the rooftop of a small cottage. Swirls of glimmering spores were drifting through the air like stardust, and for a moment I held my breath. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear faint clicks and cracks that were reminiscent of splintering glass.

For those first few moments, all I could do was stare in awe, mouth agape until Laurel let out a low whistle, nudging me with her elbow to get my attention.

“Psst. Arken. Beautiful bookwyrm alert.”

“Hmm?”

“Greetings, young Conduits!” An unfamiliar voice called out. “Please rest assured that it is perfectly safe to breathe freely without face coverings—these glowing spores of the Amacita Luxpharia are not toxic or harmful to humans in any way. The same cannot be said of it’s cousin, though, the Amacita Lunaeris—but that particular species is not kept here.”

A beautiful bookwyrm, indeed.

The man in question, currently waxing poetic on these Irossi native mushrooms, was a stunning specimen himself. He was tall and tan, beaming with a friendly grin that lit up his entire freckled face. His green eyes glittered with enthusiasm as he clapped High Scholar Larkin on the back with familiarity.

“It’s good to see you, Jude.”

“Students, I would like you to meet Scholar Thompson, the lead researcher here at the Arboretum,” Larkin said. “He has graciously offered to guide our tour today, so please utilize his expertise as the rare resource it is, and ask plenty of questions!”

“The real rare resource is whatever shampoo that man uses,” Laurel murmured under her breath. “Look at that hair.”

Ever the astute observer when it came to anyone remotely attractive, Laurel wasn’t wrong—the scholar’s hair was a deep chocolate brown, sleek as all Hel, and had to be longer than mine. Good gods.

“Oh, please,” Scholar Thompson replied to Larkin, cheeks flushing a bit. That made his freckles more pronounced, which was sort of adorable. “You flatter me. But hello there, students. You can call me Ezra, and I will be your guide this afternoon. As Scholar Larkin is well aware, I jump at any opportunity to discuss regional biomes. Irrosi horticulture, in particular, is a specialty of mine.”

As we proceeded through the first wing of the building, Scholar Larkin droned on about some of the basic details of the tropics of Irros. I focused on taking in the sights and sounds, though I occasionally pulled out my notebook to scribble down some of the more nuanced details as Ezra weighed in. I had to admit, the man knew his mushrooms.

“Watch your step!” A voice called overhead as we approached the second wing.

Wait. Overhead?

When I looked up, I almost yelped in surprise. One of the researchers—a Water Conduit, I realized—was floating above us, seated atop a massive bead of swirling liquid.

Holy Hel, you could do that with arcana? Literally levitate?

“Don’t try this at home, folks,” he said, peering down at us with a grin. “Ready when you are, Addie!”

I watched on in quiet fascination as the Water Conduit began working in tandem with another researcher, the one he’d called Addie. She’d been standing a few feet away at the base of one of the largest mushrooms. As it turned out, Addie was a Fire Conduit—evidenced by the fact that she began tossing small bursts of Fire arcana overhead, sending them hurtling towards the gills of the massive mushroom canopy.

What on Aemos was she…?

But the floating Conduit worked in perfect synchronization with his companion, tossing out small orbs of Water aether to douse every flame, which in turn dispersed a fine, warm mist throughout the air around us.

“In order to maintain the right environment for the flora and fauna of Irros to flourish here, our groundskeepers have developed this unique method of dispersing heat and moisture into the air,” Ezra explained. “El and Addison often work in tandem to bring the mist straight up the gills of these majestic mycelium, where it can be most readily absorbed.”

How fascinating.

“Majestic mycelium? Is this man for real?” Laurel whispered, rolling her eyes.

“Hush, you,” I shot back under my breath. “This is interesting.”

As I watched the groundskeepers go back and forth with this synchronous little flow of Water and Fire, my fingers began to tingle. That familiar itch was back, the urge to emulate the arcana myself. I wouldn’t even need a partner, and the spellwork seemed simple enough…

I sighed heavily, clamping down on the impulse before anything could manifest.

Not now, Arken. Not here.

Most of the time, this secret of mine was manageable enough, but I still hated it. I hated having to shove my other Resonances down in public, severing what felt like such a natural connection to the elemental world around me. I hated having to hide something that seemed so harmless on the surface, but became something insidious, something dangerous when you stopped to consider the implications. I hated not knowing what it meant, that I could do these things.

Huffing again, I tugged the Light towards me instead. I slipped my hands into my pockets to avoid drawing attention to myself, and let that familiar glow wash over my fingertips. Even without the shimmering visual feedback, I took comfort in the sensation of using at least some of my Resonance, in feeling what was mine. Embracing the part of me that I didn’t have to hide.

“Oh, drats,” Scholar Thompson muttered to himself as we approached the third wing of the sprawling arboretum. “I nearly forgot. Before we proceed with the rest of the tour, are any of you arachnophobic? Don’t be shy, it’s a perfectly common fear, but if you don’t enjoy spiders… you might want to excuse yourselves now.”

“If you don’t enjoy spiders? Who the Hel enjoys spiders?” Laurel whispered. “Also, did he seriously just say “drats”?”

“Will you leave that poor man alone? If you’re scared, you can always hold my hand,” I teased.

“I never said I was afraid of them,” she sniffed. “I simply tolerate their existence.”

“You say that now…” I mused, knowing what was to come next. “And for the record, I enjoy spiders.”

“You would.”

“It’s just about feeding time for our little friends, so they’ll be getting more active overhead as they leave the nest,” Scholar Thompson said, looking up, and my eyes followed suit.

“Holy Hel,” I breathed.

There had to be thousands upon thousands of strands of wispy, iridescent spidersilk draped from every corner of the ceiling. The thin, pliant cords extended down from the tops of every tree and mushroom cap to form various structures—tunnels, hammocks, makeshift ladders and webs of all sorts.

I started to lose focus on the lecture, finding myself hypnotized by the patterns in the silk and the way that glowing spores and droplets of dew seemed to cling to every strand, glistening like jewels, like berries from the bush. It wasn’t until that strange clicking noise from earlier returned and Laurel jolted beside me that I snapped out of the enchanted haze. The clicks and crackles were louder now. Much louder.

“Holy shit! What the fuck is that fucking thing?!” Laurel squealed, gripping at my bicep.

Ah. There it was.

“Language, Miss Ansari,” Scholar Larkin chided sternly. “But can anyone answer her question?”

Unlike Laurel, I had spent the whole night prior studying up on Irrosi biomes. Partially because I was excited for this, and partially because it was the only way I could even attempt to get my mind off a certain guardsman after he’d walked me home.

“Latrodectus lustrae,” I offered as one of the giant, crystalline looking arachnids started skittering out from the nest. “Those are Astral Spinners.”

“Indeed! Very good,” Ezra said, breaking into a wide grin, as if a smidgen of class participation had made his whole damn day. “This one is Elorei, one of our young adult female Spinners.”

Elorei was making her slow descent from the gills of the mushroom canopy and I watched in near disbelief that a single, thin thread of spidersilk could bear the weight of such a large, translucent carapace. Again, it was one thing to read about these things, but to witness them…

I found myself hanging on Scholar Thompson’s every word as he detailed the uses for their silk, how it was harvested, and the seemingly symbiotic relationship between the Spinners and the mushrooms themselves. To Laurel’s credit, she held back most of her snark for the remainder of the lecture… though she would still occasionally snort when my hand would shoot up, begging Ezra for more details.

What could I say? I just really liked mushrooms.

Long after the lecture had concluded and our class had dispersed, I found myself lingering in the arboretum, still utterly fascinated. Every corner and crevice had something new, something worth scribbling notes about in my journal—much to Laurel’s chagrin.

“You don’t have to stay here with me, you know, Laur.”

“I know. But damn. You’re really into this shit, aren’t you?” she asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, I am.”

“I know you said you don’t really have plans for the future yet, but… have you ever considered becoming a scholar? I’m sure you could specialize in Bios, join the ranks with our pals Jude and Ezra.”

I paused for a moment, tapping my chin with my drawing pencil, and then shrugged.

“There was a time where I thought I might go that route,” I admitted. “When I was younger, all I wanted to do was follow in my mentor’s footsteps and become a High Scholar one day. But not so much anymore. I love nature, it absolutely fascinates me, but it’s more of a personal connection. And I’m not much for teaching. Though I suppose I could become a researcher… I can’t say that path particularly appeals to me, though.”

“Does that ever bother you?” Laurel asked, her expression unreadable as she took a seat on the stump next to me.

“Which part?”

“The… not knowing what comes next. The lack of a larger life plan. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, Ark. I think it’s cool that you’re just here to learn. It’s just such a foreign concept to me. I can’t quite wrap my head around it.”

“It used to bother me a lot, actually,” I confessed. “Back home. The uncertainty of not knowing what I really wanted used to drive me insane. But I swear, the minute I arrived in Sophrosyne, something in me just sort of settled. It felt like I was where I was supposed to be.”

“Aw. That’s sort of beautiful, Ark,” Laurel said softly, smiling. “I’m happy for you, even if I do envy your ability to just… live in the moment.”

“It’s funny, when we first met, that was actually what I admired about you,” I told her. “I thought you just seemed to float around with ease, like a little social butterfly. But there’s more to you than meets the eye, Ansari.”

Laurel snorted.

“Yeah, well, you know. It’s easy to play that role when it’s your social life that’s keeping you sane. Sure, there’s more to me than meets the eye, such as: the constant state of stress I’m living in these days,” she said. She kept her tone light, though I could hear the edge of tension.

“You wanna talk about it?” I asked, keeping my tone neutral and unimposing. I didn’t want to pressure her… I was just opening the door.

Laurel shrugged before releasing a heavy sigh.

“My family expects me to be in and out of the Studium within two years. An “accelerated path,” so that I can come back home and start to apprentice under Baba and Lord Ymir again. It’s like… It wasn’t enough that they’ve been grooming me for my entire life, right? Just because I was the first child to pop out of the womb. This High Advisor role has belonged to the eldest Ansari for centuries, and it’s afforded my entire family so much comfort, so many opportunities… So who am I to break that chain?”

“Do you want to?” I asked, continuing to sketch, though I was actively listening. I found that it put most people at ease if you didn’t stare at them while they bared their soul, and it was easier for me to focus on deeper conversations when my hands were occupied. “Break the chain, I mean.”

“That’s the thing,” Laurel said. “I don’t think that I do. I mean, before I ever came to Sophrosyne, I had already studied trade at the College of Torrents. I had already worked with the Merchant’s Guild, attended multiple trade summits—and believe it or not, I’m actually good at that shit, Ark.”

I arched a brow, but let her continue.

“I know, I know, you wouldn’t picture me in a room full of stuffy old viscounts and merchants, but I can actually hold my own with them. And I like that. I like knowing that I can make a difference one day. That I might guide Lord Ymir towards policies that serve Samhaven well.”

I had teased Laurel on several occasions about how she should consider a future in politics. I hadn’t realized that in a lot of ways, that’s precisely where she was headed. A role of influence amongst the Atlassian Courts.

“Godsdamn,” I murmured. “That’s actually pretty incredible, Laur.”

“Thanks,” she sighed.

“It’s also an incredible amount of pressure to be under when you’re so young. You’re what, twenty?”

“Yeah. I guess I was sort of hoping that I would have a little more time, you know? A little more freedom, maybe. Room to breathe. I’m afraid that the next two years will come and go in no time at all.”

Suddenly, I understood so much more about my friend and the antics of sleeping her way through the city. I had already gotten the sense that it was some sort of a reclamation of personal autonomy, considering the Ansari family’s plans for an arranged marriage in her future. I could see now that it went beyond a small rebellion, though.

Laurel just wanted to experience everything she could out here… while she still could.

I decided that I would endeavor to be less difficult when the woman tried to drag me out for drinks, dancing and rubbing elbows with our peers.

“Gods, Ark, I’m sorry to just dump that all on you at once. You’re really easy to talk to, you know that?”

“I get that a lot, actually,” I laughed.

It was such a strange contradiction. Though I often felt like a spectator, an outsider looking in on the human experience, I had also studied it. My empathy became an obsession sometimes, an urge to dig deep. A selfish impulse to sink my teeth into what made other people tick, as if it might explain what I was lacking. And I could often taste the emotional wounds of others long before they ever revealed them out loud.

Though that was also why I had a tendency to keep to myself. It was overwhelming, feeling so much all the godsdamned time. I could never seem to turn it off. To then inadvertently collect the burdens of others, to experience that weight alongside them whether I liked it or not, to feel their emotions as if they were my own… It was a lot.

Very few people that I had encountered in life were worth that headache. People like Laurel, like Kieran… they were exceptions.

“Lost in thought over there, Asher?” Laurel teased. “Or just very focused on capturing that mushroom with flawless precision?”

“Both,” I laughed, finishing up my sketch of an unfamiliar cluster of fungi. “Definitely both. Gods, I love mushrooms.”

“Um, I think you mean majestic mycelium,” Laurel said with a smirk, mimicking Ezra’s mannerisms.

Wistfully, I wished I had brought my watercolor kit so that I could capture the pale lilac hues of the stalk and the vibrant, lacy little skirt that was a deeper violet. Instead, I tried to commit the colors to memory so that I could go look it up later.

“Okay, Asher. The lecture wrapped up an hour ago. I love you to death, but I’m starving, and I get the feeling that if left to your own devices, you’d stay here sketching until nightfall. Come on.”

Rising to her feet, Laurel plucked my journal out of my hands, ruffling my hair affectionately.

“If we must,” I sighed.

“We must,” Laurel replied, handing my journal back. She seemed much more at ease now that she had gotten some of that shit off her chest. “All this mushroom talk has me craving that chanterelle amp; thyme galette from the Arrowhead.”

At the mention of food, my stomach rumbled and I realized that, yet again, I had forgotten to eat breakfast. Laurel gave me a pointed look, as if she knew, and reached down to tug at my arm.

“Come along, bookwyrm. My treat.”