Ekan and Morous stared in silent disbelief at the devastation that lay before them. They had traveled far to this place, but could not yet fathom the depth of the grief that was sure to come. They were numb, confused and scared.
They had journeyed from their birthplace, Portobello, accompanied by others of their kind. They had been judged strong young Shrooms by the council and deemed worthy of the honor that their mission carried. Their clan was shrinking, robbed of many of their young by giant marauders. So, like orphans, they were cast to the four winds to eek out an existence, armed only with their wits and what meager support they could scavenge for themselves on the way to their destination – the Shroom colony at Shitake. Their mission was to bring back volunteers to with new spores to re-invigorate their own colony, and cross breed with the Shitakes and create a new, more resilient Shroom race.
Ekan went first down the sloping hill toward the field scattered with fallen Shitakes. He had soon risen to be the commander of this mission. He was a natural leader, and inspired confidence in those around him. Morous had become his second in command – resourceful and trustworthy in even the most difficult tasks. They checked each of the fallen Shrooms, and called for medical assistance for the few survivors. They were able to question a few, who mumbled incoherently about a giant machine that descended out of nowhere and cut them down where they stood. Only a few sheltered in the nooks between boulders had survived uninjured.
Instinctively, Ekan knew that this was a new and dangerous enemy they were facing. Before, the marauding giant carnivores would stoop down and pick tender youngsters, carrying carry them away to feed other giants. But many would survive – in fact – their large numbers ensured some would always survive. But the stories of this new enemy were horrifying. This enemy was indiscriminate in its destruction. Accompanied by a deafening roar, a massive device would swoop down and chop away everything in its path, casting them about like trees in a tornado. Silence would soon follow as the roar moved away, and the survivors would crawl out from the few hiding places, weeping and moaning for their fallen family and friends.
Morous walked over to his friend, and put a hand on his shoulder. He fixed his gaze on Ekan, and watched as the deep sadness in his eyes faded and was replaced by determination. He had grown much on this journey, and realized that the old ways were changing. It would take more than one or two species blending together to create one stronger one. It would take much more.
Ekan looked back once more at the fallen, scattered Shrooms. He turned to Morous, and said “This is bigger than us. It’s bigger than all the Shrooms in all the fields of the world. We need to call together the Ancient Council of Fungi. We need to take the battle to these giants”.
Ekan strode off, followed by Morous and the straggling band of survivors. And so the battle begins………………
