in the caverns below.

She hates the light. She hates the daytime. She hates this blasted heat that seemed to crawl under every grain of fur and dampen the fungal crests protruding from her arms and gather more of the clammy feeling clasped over her to make it all feel sticky and thick in humidity. She hated the stupid sun that bore down on her and accented every inch of lichen and moss clinging to the body clearly outlandish in the land of the living, the glowing force of the sun above mocking the tendrils that flickered around her eyes and made her blind. All of the sunlight, any light for that matter, felt like a taunt; a jeer of never truly seeing the light for herself since she was born into darkness and made her home in the furthest shadows of the world that she could.

It didn’t bother her, being blind, as much as others thought it would. She didn’t need to see anyways to feel the sneer on her lips or to chastise the idiots that fell into her dark caverns below. She knew the caves down below now well enough that she never bumped into anything anymore. The Mycelinae network down there was more than welcoming to her as well; it all felt like a safe shell she could sink into away from society and escape in. And with how complex the labyrinth of the cave systems was, it was quite easy to lose yourself in the darkness for newcomers. With her, it was simply a walk in the park for the day.

But moons, did she hate the light and being up on the surface still. She hated the mockery more than anything. She hated the judgment from passing FungalWings and from the earth itself, from what it felt like. But no one mocked her after her stained pale green teeth were bared and the stench of wandering the caves wafted into the nostrils of others, finally realizing the sincerity behind her threats of creating their corpses into mulch for the cave plants to eat. No one messed with her after those threats, and even coming by her place could be considered bad fortune for those who knew of her tale. She much preferred it that way. 

Everyone but the light itself seemed to heed her warning, it seemed. Always there. Always beaming and bright. She couldn’t see it, but moons could she feel it. And she could feel it in the little slips of cracks within the ceiling even in her home. And with each one, she gritted her teeth and formed little mossy plugs to make sure no more could sneak into the comforting darkness she had built for herself. Safe and protected away from society, that was her wish.

If only it was possible. But other dragons were idiots. And the sun was burning and deceiving and awful. She’d chew it up one day if she could.

Her thickened wings draped along her back as she gritted her teeth, feeling the cackling sun glossening her body as she lumbered towards the lonely and hopeless wooden stand poised right in the center of a small field in between the rocks and crags of the arching cliffs leading into the horizon. She could tell it was in the center of it all by the billowings of the wind around her, seemingly trapped in a way with the small field the structure rested in. In the distance, from the descriptions she could remember from passersbys describing it to her, more arching backs of mountains loomed around her with the only stretch of land much farther away without the rocks flickering with fields of aurochs and other wild creatures fenced in, vaguely catching the scent of their milk and cheese from this far off. Members of the Cheesemongers Guild and their precious makings of a living rested out there, if she could remember.

What a silly profession, Usnea berated with a shake of her head, grumbling and gritting her teeth to feel the molars rubbing and shifting along each other. Her talons gripped the small flecks of wildflowers and grass underfoot, the plants shriveling with faint wails she could truly hear if she focused hard enough as she stomped through them mercilessly. What use do they have with that sort of business- milk and cookies? For the tired old FungalWings and yappy little dragonets? Ridiculous. At least Archivists have some sort of special role in our society.

But at least I can tolerate the Cheesemongers this close. If I knew any Archivists lived near me, I’d crush their bones and use it for my next pot of stew. As if her thoughts conjured them up, the bags she was carrying thumped firmly under her wings and along the row of golden-orange scales along her side as a reminder of her daily tasks. They were hefted with goods, arrangements of ripened moss and brown cod fish from the cave waters below ready to shred and tear into alongside oddly sweetened gold berries and other goods she knew could sell to surface folk from her wonders below. She let herself be soothed by the earthly and damp scent that clung to her nares instead by her own product of labor, heaving a soft sigh of relief by their aroma.

At least I can soak in this scent while I wait for potential guests. She slung the bag onto the small table set up when she reached it, sorting out her ingredients into the large stone bowls that had been somewhat carved with the names of the ingredients. She was sure she had gotten some wrong, the writing was probably a mess, but it was as close as she could get to replicating it. Those stone tablets I read have much more use than just writing. It allows for practicing my own writing too. I don’t think it’s very good, but it’s something at least.

I can still feel the stupid sun glaring at me and judging me, though. She reached up and tilted her awning downwards to deflect most of the light from her face, but she could still feel it pressing into her chest and dripping down her arms to sneak into the clefts of mushrooms growing on them. She glowered towards the general source, grumbling to herself as she arranged her ingredients once more to make sure it was all presented and ready for the day of merchandise. Stupid light. Stupid sun. Let’s make this day quick.

And luckily, it was a quick day indeed. Her usual guest came ambling around an hour or so later, an older FungalWing that Usnea tried not to get too attached to but couldn’t help it when she could practically feel the smile within the ancient elder’s words as they greeted her. The lady passed her the new tablets of reading for the day while she collected her own goods as their form of trade, Usnea tracing the titles with her claws before stowing them away with a quiet hum. More Archivist journals and more information about them. Good. 

She made herself smile in thanks, but it came a little easier with the brittle chuckles and the ambling steps as the lady walked away back down her usual path. Usnea listened to the pebbles roll and tinker down the mountains after the shaky steps of the dragon, folding her wings down closer to herself as she let out another quiet sigh. At least one dragon is reliable around here. Not really a friend, but a… Constant. That’s nice enough.

More usual guests came by; useless and lost travelers trying to look for directions and decided to try her infamous soup to guide them far away, those coming in to get to the jungles of the South Mycelinae lands and barely stopping for conversation before continuing to the main cities in the trees, even the scent of Cheesemongers floated in from some guests that stopped by looking for anything that might increase the yield of their products (Those she simply tolerated for conversation and potential business, but by all the moons if she had to save one more of their stupid hind ends from falling into her cave…).

Overall, she made a good end’s meet for the day. And when the sun pressed into her back painfully in the hottest part of the day with the sun angling back down and baking the clearing in smoldering waves of warmth, she packed her things up and slotted away the spoiled goods that were fried or shriveled up throughout the day from the sun into her special waste bag. The fungal systems down in the caves seemed to appreciate those specimens more when she dumped them into the special fungal fields segmented out in the caves below; even though they stank and rotted Usnea’s nose, it was nice to feel the happy shimmers from the networking down below in the caves at her offerings to them. It kept their bond strong, even though she secretly enjoyed it simply to just feel the happy tremor in the air from her presents.

But as she was making her way back down the small grassy trail that led back down into her caves, there were scuttling footsteps starting to chase after her and made her whip her head around towards where they came from. There wasn’t much fungi around here to help her sense what it was, reasoning with her surprise at the noise, but it was easy enough to pick up after a few squeals and squeaks that there were two dragonets bounding towards her and not at all trying to be shy or sneaky in their pursuit. In the distance, slower drawling steps hurried up as they realized the young they were watching were no longer within swatting distance of their wings and were heading towards a beast that looked as if she crawled out the soulful depths of a swamp themself. 

Usnea stifled a deep groan in her throat at the incoming interaction, however, and waited in the sinking sunlight listening to the giggles that wavered into gasps as the dragonets skidded to a halt that sent more showers of pebbles down the rocky slopes. A few scuttled around Usnea’s claws and tapped against her tail, making them shift it away and feeling the lichen pieces stuck within their fur scrape and nestle back into it away from the sudden rush of objects. Usnea tilted her head up just slightly to try and keep herself poised, more of her molars filing down from the grit that settled into her jaw again from the disturbance as she fizzed with impatience and annoyance. What do the little pests want?

“Mysterious cave beast!” One of them finally blurted, followed by a spurt of small sputters and yelps as if the dragonet had spoken without thinking. Usnea heard their companion nudge them with a mini fit of giggles coming from their snout, and she could hear wings rustling as if the speaker was hiding away in shame from their actions. 

What? Usnea wasn’t as amused as them, however. She let her top lip curl up in the permanent sneer she seemed to wear around strangers, a grit in the grunt from the back of her throat as she hissed slowly, “What did you call me? What do you want?”

She could hear the further rustling of wings and faint scrapes of claws clicking against rocks as the dragonets backed up, potentially cowering away from her now with the tart scent and tension of uneasiness now in the air. She stifled her smirk and simply waited for their response, keeping her frame frozen to the ground as if she were molded by the endless mountains around her themselves. Closing in on the small group of dragons made, Usnea could hear the frantic clamor of the caretaker’s talons drawing closer. Good. Come pick up your miscretins. I have more important things to do than entertain little scabs like these.

But before the caretaker came barreling in, the dragonet that hadn’t spoken up before finally piped in with a voice shrill in wonder and fear combined, “Is it true that your caves are haunted? And that you eat people who try to roam in them?”

And in a quieter but very clear whisper to the one dragon with enhanced hearing, the dragonet from before found the courage to whisper the question that tested with their fate of life or death, “Are you the monster that lives in the caves below and keeps everyone out of them?”

Usnea froze up once more as her mind wheeled to a startled silence, claws twitching and clicking against the small roll of rocks that was peeking through the grass underfoot. There was another hurried round of alarmed squeaks coming from the dragonets, cowering away and ready to brace themselves for the potential wrath of the dragon they angered. But before the larger FungalWing could respond, the further clapping and clamor of other talons beat her words that didn’t even get a chance to spring out of her mouth. The newcomer was out of breath, frantically grasping at the smaller claws scraping further against the stones as they gathered the children up.

“Sorry, sorry,” The new guest gasped in apology, Usnea hearing the shifting of wings and very faint clicking of claws gripping onto the fur of the adult and huddled away. “I’m so sorry for them, they won’t bother you again. We won’t bother you again.”

The acrid scent of fear and unease was still in the air, now ripened by the young adult desperately trying to scramble away. It was the usual sound of dragons who thought that they could be sneaky, but never were, simply because she couldn’t see them. It was almost amusing to listen to, but her mood was a bit tampered by everything that had occurred. Idiot. How daft and sightless are you to truly try and deceive me?

But she didn’t have much energy left for the conversation and simply shrugged instead of instigating, taking a small step back before letting the words that she wanted to slip out finally whittle in the air through her pale green teeth, “Don’t let your kids come here. They know of my tales as the cave beast- I sure do hope they remember how it ends.”

Twin faint shrieks of fear rose from the youngling’s mouths, a small gasp coming from the parent themself in horror. But Usnea didn’t entertain them any further, turning and lumbering away before the guest could respond as she found her way back through the grassy path underfoot that softened the gentle aches her claws felt from gritting the cobbled ground. There was a few beats of silence and muffled noise before furious wing flaps and scoldings were heard in the distance, the parent now taking off into the clouds above with their reprimandings fading along with them. Usnea paused for a moment to listen to the wind currents shifting and the gusts that whistled faintly around her ears, whittling away the guests and waiting for the currents to settle back down to its undisturbed humming before continuing back to her caverns.

It was an easy walk from here; the slope was starting to inch downwards at an even grade, the grass now fully fading away to a combed dirt path trampled away most from her own claws but still hid away from the rise of stones she could feel now if she stretched her wings out enough. She felt shadows starting to bend and loom above her as she slipped into the more hidden crevices of the boulders and stalactites spouting and spitting around her, listening to the rubble and falling of purposefully crumbling rocks that would no doubt carry down an unfortunate soul unlucky enough to step on the feeble grounds and plunge nearly to their deaths. 

Unfortunate that it wasn’t really to their deaths, with her safeguards begrudgingly made at the floor of the caves for those who fell in. But then again if it was truly to the dragon's death, Usnea wouldn’t be alive seeing as that was how she ended up in the caves. Only I get the pass, though. It was some sort of destiny for me to fall into those caves and protect them. There's a reason for it; I may not know entirely why, but I know that I need to defend it. That’s all I know.

She paused for a moment as she felt the stones around her starting to finally sink away, a welcoming chill and the scent of damp moss sinking into her senses now instead as it all greeted her home in the darkness of the entrance cavern. The harsh rocks underfoot mellowed out to smoothed stone, hearing the soft pattering and splashing of the small water currents pooling down into the caves into the many different underground lakes that she also continued to guard. The trickles of the stream could be heard in the small lips of cliffs it caught itself on, but even far down below she could hear the drops tinkering the surface. With a small chill, she knew that it wasn’t even close to the bottom of the caves.

The echo of her talonsteps reverberated within the walls as she started her trek down further towards the usual path she took to get to the rest of her cavern system, but she paused before making her full descent down into the darkness below. Her head slowly swung up and around towards the source of light she knew was getting smaller and smaller through natural stone and crags of teeth poking to deter dragons away from entering, feeling the last bits of warmth brushing over her face and smoothing along the antler spires she had for horns. 

A monster, Usnea’s mind echoed the utter of the dragonet, feeling almost as hollowed out as the large entrance cave she stood in. She felt her frown tugging at her snout, digging her claws into the stone and feeling small prickles of pain from the soft screech that the surface made from the grip. Well then. Seems as if my reputation is evolving. Don’t know how I should feel about it, though.

The tablets she had in her bag felt heavier for a moment, hefting it up on her shoulder for a moment with a soft groan before shaking her head as she remembered the stories that she purposely now asked from her regular book dealer that came by her stocks. I won’t try to change their minds, though. I mean, I suppose it’s not far from the truth. I may be a monster. I may kill those who enter the cave and eat them. I won’t ever justify those rumors, but I won’t ever try to disprove them. A mystery and an unknown anomaly; that’s how I prefer it.

She touched her pack for a moment with a slow exhale, the lichen around where eyes would have been now aching as if she had somehow seen too much. She dipped her head down, low enough for the tip of her beak to brush against the faint stream rushing below her claws down into her caves below. And she whispered to the cave and to herself, “Much safer that way, lest they knew the truth of these caves. I would rather be rumored to be a murderer than to reveal what truly lay in these caves.”

She turned up towards the last hint of sunlight above, slowly delving away as it set outside and hung onto the last lip of stone like a lifeline. But then she took a step backwards, a few more following until she was finally turned away from the light and heading back towards the shadows that laid below that she called home. And as she disappeared into the dark, the light above winked away and shrouded the caves and the descending FungalWing into the darkness where they belonged.