Chapter Text
Although a heavy downpour was already raging outside, it turned out to be quite comfortable inside the underground cave. Even despite the high humidity, the air was fresh and moderately warm, and the winding descent into the cave muffled all external sounds, turning the rumblings of thunder and the noise of rain into a cozy, steady hum.
Pantalone looked with interest at the huge roots, massive leaves, and mushrooms with caps so large that each of them could easily serve as a table or even a bed. He wouldn't have said no to a bed at that moment, even though they had only been on the road for a few hours. The rain and the early wake-up call made him want to take a nap.
I feel so sleepy right now…
Pantalone yawned and looked at the others. It seemed he wasn't the only one feeling sleepy: Ororon was languidly examining the giant mushrooms, obviously also thinking about their resemblance to a bed; Ifa lazily sat down on a root; Cacucu had settled down to sleep. Only Capitano stood at attention as usual, examining the surroundings for danger.
Pantalone shifted his gaze to Zandik and Zen. Their faces showed a little fatigue too, but they still looked up with the same concentration, where the underground cave went high into the very depths of the mountain.
“Why did we come here, exactly?” Pantalone asked, looking up at the thick roots and leaves.
“We need to gather some flowers to make incense,” explained Dottore.
Ororon and Ifa stared at him simultaneously.
“Dude, are you serious?” Ifa asked, lazily getting up from the root. “After the ancient desert relic, we're looking for flowers? I thought you could buy incense from any merchant in the market.”
Dottore shook his head, sat down on a rock, and took a thick, leather-bound notebook out of his bag.
“Just so you know, you simpletons from Natlan, we don’t need any ordinary incense sticks. We need an ancient and effective method of putting the mind into a completely different state.”
“Don’t tell me we came to Sumeru for drugs…”
“No, we'll go to the Chasm for drugs,” Dottore snapped, opened his notebook, and began writing in it.
Ororon crouched down and stared intently at something, then muttered quietly.
“What the...”
“What’s wrong?” Pantalone followed his gaze, but saw nothing but leaves and grass.
“I think I'm falling asleep. There's something running around among the leaves...”
“You must be imagining things,” Pantalone said, yawning again as he leaned lazily on Dottore, who was still scribbling notes in his notebook.
Ifa came closer and looked at the notebook, too.
“Are you keeping a diary?”
Pantalone scratched his nose and looked wearily at the white pages filled with sketches, diagrams, and small-handwritten notes about what had happened to them each day of their journey.
“What business is it of yours?” Dottore snorted. “I’ve been keeping records like this my whole life. In case you’re not aware, it’s the easiest way to organize the information when it’s inconvenient to use technology.”
“So, what kind of flowers do we need?” Ifa looked at the small drawings in the notebook with interest. “You draw pretty well, dude.”
“Viparyas,” replied Dottore, covering the page with his hand. “And stop reading my notes.”
Ororon pointed upward at the beautiful, light lilac flowers growing on the ledges.
“Those?”
“No, those are Padisarahs. Viparyas look like this.” Dottore flipped through his notebook and showed them a small sketch of a beautiful bright purple flower. “They're quite difficult to find, and judging by our chances, we have little opportunity to do so quickly. These aren’t your usual flowers.”
Ororon yawned again.
“Are you okay?” Ifa asked, yawning himself. “Ah, that blue glow and music are really soothing, though.”
“Yeah, you don’t say.”
Zandik and Zen stared at the guys at the same time.
“Blue glow?”
“Music?”
Pantalone looked at them with interest, then turned to Capitano, who also shook his head.
“That's interesting.” Zen approached the guys and thoughtfully touched his face. “But what's the deal? Is it age? Or are there other reasons?”
“It's unlikely to be age. Technically, you're the same age,” Dottore hummed, loudly slamming his notebook shut and glancing around the cave. “Well, now our chances of finding the Viparyas are slightly higher. So here’s the plan: we’ll spread out across the cave to increase our chances of finding at least something. If any of you fall asleep in the process, please continue searching—no excuses.”
The guys exchanged glances but didn't argue. Pantalone also looked around the cave, sighed, and stood up.
All right, if there are no excuses, so be it.
***
While the others scattered throughout the cave, Ororon and Ifa headed to the top, where the quiet music was most clearly heard and a faint blue glow was visible.
Ororon carefully examined every bush and every corner where the mysterious Viparyas could be hiding, but all he found time and time again were Sweet Flowers and large, pale Padisarahs.
Ifa, walking beside him, also looked under every leaf, but remained silent most of the time. His face wore a look of deep concentration—either he was so absorbed in his search, or his mind was occupied with completely different thoughts.
“What's wrong?” Ororon couldn't hold back any longer when an hour had passed and Ifa hadn't said a word.
“Huh?” Ifa looked at him distractedly. “Everything's fine. Nothing's wrong.”
Ororon looked closely at Ifa's overly pensive face. Clearly, something was wrong.
“Does your stomach hurt? You can go to the bushes; I won't look.”
Ifa laughed.
“Oh, come on!”
Ororon looked at his friend for a moment longer, then shrugged.
“All right, whatever you say. But if your stomach does start to hurt, just let me know, and I’ll—”
Ifa looked at him with such an expression that Ororon quickly changed the subject.
“Hm, so, these flowers aren't to be seen anywhere. It's strange because, judging by Grump’s and Zen's reaction, the music should help us somehow?”
“I don't know how the music should help us,” Ifa sighed. "But I don't see anything except mushrooms.”
Ororon’s gaze caught movement behind the roots again, and he froze. Again, he saw something running under the leaves—a vegetable?
“Do you see them running too?” he asked hesitantly.
Ifa waved his hand.
“I think you're already falling asleep. And remember, that's no excuse.”
He said the last words in a dissatisfied voice, his eyebrows drawn together in anger as he pretended to be Grump.
Ororon shook his head.
“No, not enough grumpiness. You look more like Zen than Grump.”
Ifa didn't say anything, but a strange expression crossed his face.
“What's with your face?” Ororon asked, confused.
“It's called a smile.”
“Hmm... okay.”
They continued their search. Ifa remained silent, and even Ororon did not start a conversation, now looking not only for flowers, but also for strange running vegetables. Perhaps he was really falling asleep, so he had to use all his strength to keep from passing out.
Time passed. And only the archons knew how many hours they spent searching, when Zen's voice rang out from below.
“Hey, what's going on up there?!”
Ororon approached the edge and looked down.
“Nothing but music! And those, what are they called... Padisarahs!”
“Give me a description!”
“Well,” Ororon said, staring at the Padisarahs. “They're light lilac flowers with large buds and—”
“Tsk,” Zen clenched his fist and waved it threateningly, making him look a little like Granny Citlali. “I'm asking about the music, you genius!”
“Ah,” Ororon said, listening to the quiet tune. “Well, it's some kind of Sumerian motif? The music is very quiet; it's hard to tell!”
There was a pause during which Zen and Grump talked quietly.
Bun looked up.
“Come down! Capitano brought dry branches; let's build a fire and take a break, we've been rummaging through the leaves for several hours now!”
Ororon and Ifa exchanged glances but shrugged and headed down simultaneously.
Maybe they're doing something wrong?
***
Ifa sat and strummed his guitar, trying to recreate the melody he kept hearing somewhere in the cave. Everyone else was sitting by the fire, chatting, while Ifa climbed a little higher to be alone with his thoughts and distract himself a little.
No, the melody isn't quite like that. What if...
He played quietly on his guitar and listened to the distant voices of the others. It seemed that Zen and Grump had found another reason to argue, and he even began to play more quietly so he could hear if Grump was calling Zen mean names again.
I need to talk to him about how Zen is having nightmares because of his behavior. Or maybe I shouldn't, so as not to make things worse?..
Ifa sighed. Things are so complicated with these two. But if Zen is part of Grump, then...
He shook his head.
No, Zen is Zen and Grump is Grump. They are definitely not the same person; they are more like brothers. Brothers who fight all the time.
He put his fingers back on the strings. The skin on his hands was still sore from when he and Zen fell into a thorny bush. Although, those scratches and bruises were nothing compared to what had happened before that.
Zen didn't let me fall.
Of course, there was nothing special about that. Of course, it's a completely normal gesture for people who travel together—to support each other. Zen had already saved Bun and Cacucu once before. But...
It’s such a warm feeling.
Ifa smiled, remembering how they had fallen into that stupid bush and laughed at the situation—and at themselves—afterwards. Zen was incredibly funny, and even despite his short temper and occasional emotional outbursts, he was very easy to be around. Perhaps, in some ways, he was like a Saurian: when Saurians are afraid, they growl and attack. And then you just need to show a little patience to earn their trust step by step. Of course, humans are much more complex than Saurians. Nevertheless, every living creature wants to feel safe before it can fully trust and open up. Especially if it has had a difficult past and bad experiences.
I should do something nice for Zen. I wonder what he likes? How can I make him feel happy?
Ifa was so deep in thought that he didn't even notice right away that he was no longer sitting alone.
“What the...!” He jumped when he realized that a strange little creature in a huge yellow leaf hat was sitting right next to him, staring at him with a contented smile on its face. “Dude, what the hell are you?!”
The creature continued to stare at him silently, and Ifa looked around.
“What's going on...?”
For some reason, the entire cave took on an even deeper shade of blue, and his guitar continued to play the Sumerian melody on its own. But the most surprising thing was that the light Padisarahs next to him had miraculously turned into the bright Viparyas they had been searching for so long.
“Nara in a hat,” said the creature, jumping up. “The forest is…”
But then it froze and disappeared into the ground, as if it had seen something terrifying.
“Wait! Where are you going?” Ifa reached out his hand, but then the melody also faded away, and the Viparyas turned back into Padisarahs right before his eyes.
What's going on?!
Right behind him, there was a loud stomping sound, and Ifa turned around and crawled away in panic toward the bushes. In front of him stood a huge blue monster with a big red eye staring at him.
“What the hell?!”
“Hey, vet,” growled the monster. “Wake up, you slacker!”
The whole world spun, and Ifa closed his eyes so he wouldn't throw up. And when he opened his eyes again, he saw Grump standing over him.
“Did I fall asleep?” Ifa rubbed his eyes sleepily. The cave had returned to normal, and the strange creatures and monsters were nowhere to be seen.
“Yes, like a log. Now, get moving. We're leaving. We'll look for another place,” said Grump.
Ifa nodded in agreement and stood up.
“Okay, because I already dreamed that I saw these Viparyas while some strange creature with a wide smile was staring at me.”
Grump looked at him with interest.
“Hm? Why didn't you pick at least one?”
“I didn't have time. They turned back into Padisarahs when a huge blue monster with a red eye approached us,” Ifa explained, putting his hand on his face.
Sounds like complete nonsense.
Dottore, however, seemed genuinely delighted by his complete nonsense. A very satisfied expression spread across his face, and he declared,
“We're staying!”
Ifa raised his eyebrows in surprise but didn’t argue.
Perhaps he was still dreaming?
***
“Why are we unpacking our stuff again?”
“We just packed everything up!”
“No way, bro!”
“The Natlan lazybones are staying here for the night,” Zandik explained, scattering his previously packed belongings around the campfire again. His face wore an expression that was both very enthusiastic and somewhat heavy at the same time.
“What about us?”
“We'll set up tents outside. It seems they don't want me or the segment around.”
Zen watched what was happening and sighed, feeling Zandik's heavy expression spread to his own face. Well, it was only logical that their failures were once again the result of their homeland rejecting them in every possible way. What a fucking surprise.
“What have you two already done?” Capitano asked sternly. “And who are 'they'?”
“Let's go,” Zandik said instead of answering, looking at Capitano. “Help me set up the tents, there's no one else to do it.”
“What about me?” Zen frowned.
“You'll knock them over, so don't even try.”
Zen clenched his teeth again so hard that they creaked.
Fuck you.
“Good night,” Capitano said to the guys. “If you have any problems, we're nearby.”
“Yes, but you'd better stay here and not run to us for every little thing,” Pantalone added. “We need to pick at least a few flowers.”
“Good night,” the guys replied in unison.
Zen sighed and turned around. His whole body had stiffened from the constant tension, and he wanted to lie down as soon as possible. His head was throbbing, his scratches were stinging, and now his injured leg was hurting, too. It wasn't a big deal, but the only times he'd felt good over the last few days were when he was asleep and in those short, sweet moments right after waking up.
He was following everyone to the cave exit when he felt a warm hand on his wrist.
“Zen, wait!” said Ifa from behind, and Zen glanced at the others.
“Go ahead, I'll catch up. What do you want?” He turned and looked at the guy.
Ifa held out a small pouch to him.
“Take it.”
“What is it?”
“Medicine,” Ifa explained. “It’s ointment for your wound and other scratches, as well as painkillers in case your leg starts hurting again.”
Something inside him jumped and turned upside down. The tension in his body suddenly receded, replaced by a strange feeling of... calm?
Zen hesitantly took the pouch and squeezed it.
“Thank you.”
An awkward pause hung in the air. Ifa continued to look at him, and he looked at Ifa, not knowing what to say next, or if he should say anything at all. It seemed that the guy was also thinking intently about something, because his face wore a very concentrated expression.
I wonder what you're thinking about right now?
“Hey, segment, move it!” Zandik commanded from afar, and Zen felt his whole body tense up again.
“I'm coming!”
He turned around and resolutely followed the others. But then, something made him stop.
“Vet boy?” he said, turning around. Ifa was still standing in the same place with the same pensive expression on his face.
“Yeah?”
“Good night.”
A smile finally appeared on Ifa's face.
“Good night, Zen.”
Zen turned around quickly and almost ran after the others, feeling his face begin to burn.
Screw you, you stupid idiot! You're deliberately pissing me off! What a pain in the ass you are!
Zen didn't stop for a second until the cave was finally behind him. Only when he emerged outside and saw the starry sky above did he slow down and smile, clutching the pouch tightly.
Maybe there was a little less tension in his body today than usual.
***
Pantalone gazed relaxed at the clear sky visible through the tops of the giant Sumeru trees. While they were down in the cave, the clouds had completely dispersed and the ground had dried out. Faint moonlight illuminated the mushrooms and ferns, and bright fireflies swarmed under the bushes, making everything appear somewhat magical. Even though the downpour had ended long ago, the air still retained an incomparable smell of earth and freshness, and somewhere high up in the trees, night birds chirped cozily.
How beautiful Sumeru is. But then again...
Pantalone looked at Dottore, who was sitting next to him.
It seems that everything born in Sumeru is just incredibly beautiful.
He smiled, moved closer to Dottore, and looked back at the sky.
What a marvelous night.
The four of them had been sitting in silence by the campfire for thirty minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Zandik stared into the dancing flames, while Capitano gazed at the stars in the sky. Only Zen was busy, covering himself with some strange ointment with a strong herbal smell.
“What is that?” Pantalone couldn't help asking when the aggressive smell of herbs became simply unbearable.
“The vet boy gave it to me. It's a healing ointment for my scratches,” Zen explained as he rubbed it into his neck.
Pantalone smiled slyly.
“I see you've befriended Ifa.”
Zen snorted and looked up at him.
“What's with the tone? And where did you get that idea? The boy annoys me, I'm just using him.”
Yeah, right.
Pantalone didn't argue. He just glanced at Zandik and leaned even closer to him.
You two are absolutely identical in some ways.
“I hope everything's all right with them there,” Capitano said, breaking the renewed silence.
“What could happen to them?” Zandik waved his hand dismissively. “They're obviously outsiders to the forest. But, as experience has shown, even outsiders are accepted by these lands and by them better than…”
He fell silent, and Pantalone looked at him, then at Zen. They both now had the same expression on their faces: resentment, disappointment, anger, and maybe even envy. Zandik never showed how much it hurt him that his homeland never loved or accepted him. But it was in such seemingly insignificant, random moments that everything he had stubbornly kept silent about came to the surface.
It must be very painful when absolutely everyone has abandoned you since your childhood. Even the forest.
“But who are these 'they' you keep talking about?” Capitano asked.
“The Sumerian forest spirits—the Aranaras,” explained Pantalone. “Local legend has it that the Aranaras come to children and those who have not lost their purity of heart, naivety, and childlike ability to dream. They befriend children, help them, and protect them from evil. But, as it turns out, they don’t come—”
“They don't come to everyone,” Zandik finished for him. “I've never seen them. For a long time, I thought they were just childhood fantasies—imaginary friends or some similar phenomenon. But when I studied Eleazar, the Withering Zones, and dreams, my research showed that Aranaras really do exist. That they are very real, intelligent beings capable of crossing the line between dreams and reality. The potential for study was simply enormous. We even tried using children who could see them as bait to catch at least one and study it. But the experiment failed miserably. Yes, I was able to gain at least some valuable knowledge, but... I still couldn't see them. Not when I was a child nor as an adult.”
“Be honest, Dottore. Is the disappointment in your voice because the experiment failed, or because you never got to see them?” Capitano asked bluntly, and Zandik and Zen gasped simultaneously.
“Pfft, it’s time to sleep,” Dottore abruptly changed the subject and stood up. “We've stayed up too long.”
“I agree,” Zen grumbled, standing up too. “We're just wasting time.”
Pantalone and Capitano silently watched the two head for the tents, saying nothing more. Only when they disappeared inside did Capitano say,
“Well, well. In just a few short weeks, I've seen a more human side to Dottore than I did in all the years we spent together in Fatui.”
“It's always been there, Capitano,” Pantalone replied, standing up. “It's just that it's becoming more difficult for him to hide it now.”
He looked up at the sky once more, then headed for the tents.
“Is the disappointment in your voice because the experiment failed, or because you never got to see them?”
Of course, Dottore was upset by the failures in his experiments. Of course, studying the Aranaras would have given him a good boost for further research. But contrary to popular belief, failures at work are not the only things that upset Dottore. Far from it.
Because deep down in his soul there was someone who still felt resentment towards the whole world.
A lonely and abandoned child.
***
After all the days of traveling with their big team, it felt really weird to spend the night away from everyone else. So weird that as Ifa was setting up his sleeping spot, he couldn't shake the strange feeling that something was missing.
Hmm, what's wrong with me?
He laid out his belongings and looked around the cave, confused, trying to understand where this strange feeling had come from. Wanting to break the silence somehow, he began retelling Ororon his dream, which had made Grump very happy for some reason.
“And then a huge blue monster with a red eye came up to me, and I woke up.”
“A blue monster?” Ororon asked. “Interesting. What about the creature?”
“It ran away. And the flowers disappeared, too. Strange, isn't it?”
Ororon shook his head and sat down in his sleeping spot.
“Nothing surprises me here anymore after what we saw on the way.”
“You're still thinking about those giant onions, aren't you?” Ifa clarified.
“They're just huge! Can you imagine the kind of festival we could have?”
There was so much enthusiasm in Ororon's eyes that Ifa laughed.
Actually, Grump is absolutely right. The madman of this group is indeed Ororon.
“No way, bro,” Cacucu muttered quietly in his sleep, and Ifa put his finger to his lips.
“Let's keep it down. Cacucu is already asleep.”
Ororon nodded in agreement and lay down on his makeshift pillow, which was made of several pieces of clothing twisted together. Ifa followed his example, lying down on his bag and trying to get comfortable.
It's not quite a bed, but it'll do.
He yawned and closed his eyes, thinking about Viparyas and strange creatures, as Ororon quietly asked,
“Are you asleep?”
Ifa opened one eye.
“Not yet. Why?”
“Tell me, have you ever... fallen in love?”
He looked at Ororon in surprise, then rolled onto his back and gazed at the roots and leaves above him.
“I don't know.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don't know,” Ifa repeated, shrugging. “Sure, I went out with girls, gave them flowers, and sometimes sang them songs. But it was all kind of... not serious, I guess? Why are you asking?”
He turned his head and glanced at Ororon, who was also lying on his back and looking up.
“Granny Citlali has a lot of books about love. And when I used to read them in the past, I imagined that this feeling was like a Glowing Hornshroom. Like the one that grows near my house, Mr. Palm.”
Ifa even sat up after this comparison.
“Why?”
Ororon looked at him.
“When I was a kid, I once got lost and didn't make it home before sunset. The sky was covered with clouds—it was dark, and I couldn't find my way back. And then I saw the Glowing Hornshrooms that helped me figure out where to go. So I always imagined that being in love is like walking in the dark for a long time and suddenly seeing the mushrooms, finally finding your way home. Only... not physically, but spiritually, you know?”
Ifa hummed and leaned back on his bag.
“Hm, interesting. But why are you suddenly talking about this?”
“I think,” Ororon said, looking up again, “I've found my way home.”
Ifa glanced at him with interest.
“Let me guess. Your home is black and covered with Khaenri’ahn patterns, isn't it?”
Ororon froze, then nodded.
“The mushrooms showed me the way. And who am I to argue with mushrooms?"
“You're right, man. You're absolutely right,” Ifa said thoughtfully.
They were silent for a while. Then, Ifa couldn't hold back any longer and asked,
“Tell me, how did you know it was love? How did you feel it?”
“It's hard to say. It just happened. It's like… a combination of strange feelings that are hard to explain. It's like standing with one foot in hot water and the other in cold water. Is your body hot? Or cold? It's hard to tell. I feel comfortable around him, but it's a special kind of comfort, not like with others. It's interesting to talk to him, but even when we're silent, I find it interesting to listen to his silence. I want to do something nice for him, and when he does something nice for me, I feel warm inside—even if it's something small, like wishing me good night. And when he's not around, I feel like something is missing, and my soul seems to never stop searching for his.”
His heart skipped a few beats and Ifa swallowed hard.
No way...
“And wherever we are—in Sumeru, Fontaine, or elsewhere—it feels like home, where the Glowing Hornshrooms and Mr. Palm led me,” Ororon continued. “It's as if I've returned—”
“As if you've returned to Natlan, but without Natlan,” Ifa finished for him, defeated.
“Yeah, exactly. And that's…”
Ororon continued speaking, but Ifa was no longer listening. He leaned back and looked up, unable to believe his sudden discovery. His heart was pounding in his ears, and his head was spinning.
So that's what's happening to me.
He put his hands over his face, feeling it grow cold with shock yet also burn—as if hot water had been poured on one half and cold water on the other.
I fell in love with Zen, didn't I..?