Wrath of the Sacred Pink JellyFish
{A Pink Necromancer Haiku Story}
— {NaNoWriMo 2024: Day 18}

Wrath of the Sacred Pink JellyFish

{A Pink Necromancer Haiku Story}- {NaNoWriMo 2024: Day 18} 🦄🌸

Pale flames flicker out,
candles drown in pools of wax,
lost to the dead night.

Frost hung in delicate lattices over the wetland’s reeds, each blade tipped with a glimmer of dawn’s light.

Quaraun adjusted his broom over one shoulder, pink robes trailing behind him as he stepped carefully through the frozen undergrowth. His blue eyes flicked irritably to BoomFuzzy, who had taken to skipping ahead, humming a Gaelic tune, his dreadlocks swaying behind him.

Normally hugging and cuddling like a pair of honeymooning newlyweds, Quaraun and BoomFuzzy had been arguing for the past hour, about the several maps, all supposedly going to the same place, but none of them pointing in the same direction.

“One of these maps has to be real,” Quaraun muttered.

“No it don’t,” BoomFuzzy grumbled.

GhoulSpawn trailed in their wake, a basket of mismatched trinkets bouncing, and all the maps Quaraun could fit in it, on his hip.

“This map is useless,” Quaraun declared, pausing to pluck a bramble from his silk robes. “Why do we follow it? It is torn, faded, and leads to nothing but misery.”

BoomFuzzy spun to face him, a wicked grin curling his lips. He moved closer to Quaraun.

“Leads tae treasure, Love. Remember? It was yar idea to be out here looking for shinny things.”

“There is supposed to be a miasma crystal around here somewhere. One of those trees that grows those crystals. It says so.”

“They all says so.”

“What if they are all right?” GhoulSpawn asked. “What if there are a bunch of those crystal tree things, and that’s why each map says it has the same treasure but shows a different location?”

“I did not expect it to be this far off the main road,” Quaraun whimpered as he threw the map back into GhoulSpawn’s basket.

“Keep walkin’,” BoomFuzzy said. “Ye cannae give up now. Ya wanted treasure, remember?”

“Treasure? Or another one of your traps?”

“Depends. D’ye want treasure, or a trap?” BoomFuzzy winked, tapping a crystal dagger against his bearded chin.

GhoulSpawn snorted, adjusting his basket.

“If it’s treasure, it’ll be cursed. If it’s a trap, it’ll explode. Either way, we all lose.”

The Elf’s cane thudded sharply against the frosty ground.

“I do not appreciate my time wasted on nonsense. I came out here looking for a miasma crystal and I intend to find it.”

“Well, sun’s coming up now,” GhoulSpawn said as he held up the lantern to blow it out. “Ain’t needing this no more.”

Pale flames flickered out in the early morning haze, as frost crusted the undergrowth beneath the trio’s feet.

Quaraun clutched his broom in one hand, his cane in the other, sweeping every rock and twig from his path before each cautious step.

BoomFuzzy’s arm looped protectively around Quaraun’s waist, steadying the Elf’s uneven gait as the cold morning air gnawed at them.

“The Goat’s right, Love. Let’s not fight.”

“I was not fighting. I am just frustrated by the inconsistency of these maps.”

“Inconsistencies is right,” GhoulSpawn muttered to himself.

GhoulSpawn trailed behind, clutching a basket full of maps and scribbled notes, muttering about inconsistent trajectories and celestial alignments.

“We must be close.”

Quaraun’s prehensile silver hair, glimmering like moonlight, reached out and retrieved another rolled parchment from GhoulSpawn’s basket. He squinted at it, his mechanical hands trembling with the effort of unrolling it.

“It is supposed to be here, somewhere beyond the wetland.”

“This’s a bloody quarry, not a wetland,” BoomFuzzy corrected.

GhoulSpawn looked around while nervously adjusting his green coat.

“This map is archaic,” he said, looking over Quaraun’s shoulder. “If it’s accurate, then stars are potatoes.”

“Oi, Goat!” BoomFuzzy interrupted.

“I’m a Sheep!”

“Yeah, good on ya for that. But no one asked ye fer yer astrological culinary expertise.”

“My what?”

“Stars ain’t ‘tattas.”

“I didn’t say they were.”

“Ya did.”

“Ya ain’t hearing right.”

“Than whatcha say?”

“I don’t remember but is weren’t that!”

“Do you two ever stop bickering?” Quaraun muttered.

“Do you?” GhoulSpawn shot back.

“I do not not argue over stupid things.”

“Oooooh noooooo,” BoomFuzzy crooned sarcastically. “Ya just bitch about intellectual things like not getting mud on the hems of ya pink silks, that ya’is too damn stupid to not wear in the rain!”

“Exactly.”

“Uhmmm… he was being sarcastic,” GhoulSpawn pointed out.

“It is not sarcasm if it is the truth,” Quaraun quipped.

“Why do you get insulted when people are not trying to insult you, and think people are agreeing with you when they are insulting you?”

“I am an Elf.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“If you do not know, I am not going to tell you.”

“Do you even know where we are?” GhoulSpawn shot back, flustered.

“Aye,” BoomFuzzy replied, pulling Quaraun closer, not giving Quaraun a chance to answer the question. “On the edge of madness, thanks to ye two.”

“You’re just as insane as he is.”

“I am not insane,” Quaraun grumbled.

“Yes ya is, ya just too insane to know it,” BoomFuzzy said. “Just think’ if I was no following ya pink wrapped pearly white arse through the forest, I could be in me kitchen cooking us a five star meal.”

Quaraun ignored them both, his keen Elven eyes catching the gleam of something ahead. He stopped abruptly, forcing the others to halt as well.

“There,” he said, pointing with his cane. “On the cliff side.”

The forest opened into a massive overgrown quarry.

Vines and moss hung heavy over crumbling stone, but amidst the decay stood a pristine structure of pearl-white marble.

Moonstones glimmered faintly in the frost along its foundation, casting an otherworldly glow.

The temple rose defiantly against the tangle of nature, its pillars polished smooth as if untouched by time.

The three froze, their breaths misting in the cold air.

“It is beautiful," Quaraun gasped, mesmerized. “Almost as beautiful as me.” He reached into his robes, producing a small mirror to examine his own face. As always, his reflection pleased him. With a flick of his silver hair, he tucked the mirror away and gazed at the temple again. “It is not on any of these maps.”

“It smells… clean,” BoomFuzzy murmured, his head tilted, sensing the air.

“Yes,” Quaraun agreed. “Soap. Linens hangin’ on a line, maybe. Someone is doing a wash. I love the smell of fresh linens.”

“Linens?” GhoulSpawn sniffed the air, his Demon senses twitching. “I smell rice pudding. Coconut. I think someone must live here.”

“You smell yer own imagination.” BoomFuzzy grinned again, though his grip on Quaraun tightened. “Whatever it is, it’s no Human work.”

Quaraun’s attention fixated on the temple’s etched doors, intricate with swirling patterns that mirrored the lacework of frost around them. Without a second thought, he began descending the cliff’s edge, his pink silks catching on brambles as he hobbled downward.

“Whoa, wait!” GhoulSpawn called after him. “Are we not going to talk about this?”

“Why?” Quaraun responded simply, not looking back. “It is here. I desire to see it.”

“Ye wee JellyElf,” BoomFuzzy muttered fondly, sliding effortlessly down after him. “Ye’ll break yer bloody neck chasin’ shiny things.”

“This is unwise,” GhoulSpawn protested.

“So’s wakin’ up in the mornin’,” BoomFuzzy called over his shoulder as he descended, his steps sure despite the icy ground.

Quaraun sighed, his breath visible in the cold air. He tapped his broom against a tree to shake off frost. His gold prosthetic hands gripped the cane tightly as he picked his way down the narrow path, silver hair flowing around him like a shimmering cloak.

GhoulSpawn groaned, reluctant to follow but unwilling to be left alone. His hooves scraped noisily over loose rocks as he descended with far less grace than the others.

GhoulSpawn followed them, muttering under his breath.

“Going into a cursed marble structure. In a reclaimed quarry. On an unmarked map. Absolutely brilliant.”

The trio arrived at the temple’s base, the frost melting into the crisp scent of fresh linen hanging unseen on the wind. The smooth marble doors towered over them, etched with ancient runes and glowing faintly.

“We should not enter,” GhoulSpawn announced, brushing snow from his robes. “This place is not meant for us.”

At the temple’s threshold, Quaraun paused, running a hand over the cold marble door. The sensation of cold marble beneath Quaraun’s fingertips sent a shiver through him.

He shivered again at the chill but admired the fine craftsmanship, his reflection faintly visible in its surface. His own beauty captivated him briefly before BoomFuzzy’s voice broke the spell.

“Ye goin’ in, Love? Or ye just plannin’ to kiss it?”

Quaraun bristled slightly, his pride wounded.

“This place feels… serene. Sacred. It should not be disturbed.”

“Sacred or no,” BoomFuzzy said, his tone serious now. BoomFuzzy shifted, the faintest blue shimmer of his Lich aura brushing against the air. “If there’s somethin’ nasty hidin’ in there, it’ll disturb us first.”

“That’s comforting,” GhoulSpawn muttered, glancing nervously around. “Are you both forgetting this map came from a Thullid priest? Treasure, he said. Sure. A temple? No mention of that. This feels like a trap.”

“Or an adventure,” Quaraun countered, determined. He pressed his cane against the door, testing its weight.

“I’m not worried about the door. I’m worried about what’s behind it.”

The three stood there, the forest eerily quiet around them.

Soft footsteps echoed faintly from within the temple, though no one had yet crossed its threshold.

“I hear someone inside.”

Quaraun traced his fingers over the pearl-encrusted wall, seeking hidden seams. Frosted wind howled through cracks in the ruined temple, rattling ancient stones like bones in a crypt.

GhoulSpawn knelt, blowing his warm breath over the frozen lock of a massive iron door.

“If I had my tools — “

“You never have your tools,” BoomFuzzy snapped, leaning his shoulder against the heavy frame. His blind gaze swept the air before him, nose twitching.

“There’s magic here. Old magic. I can smell it.”

“I see it,” Quaraun murmured, blue eyes narrowing. Faint runes glimmered beneath his touch, throbbing with Thullid enchantments. “A blood ward. It requires a sacrifice.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” GhoulSpawn bleated, shifting uneasily. “Blood magic always involves oubliettes or angry spirits or Demons...”

“You are a Demon!”

“I’m an Ursurig. We are peaceful De,oms. There’s other types of Demons you know. Like Thullids.”

“Thullids would build a temple over a miasma tree,” Quaraun said. “The tree has to be inside.”

BoomFuzzy pressed his hand to the door, tilting his head.

“Feels alive, dunnit?”

“That is exactly why we should leave it be.”

“Alive is better than dead.” BoomFuzzy shot a glance at Quaraun. “Unless ye fancy Liches.”

“Liches are predictable. Living temples are not.”

GhoulSpawn, now inspecting the door’s carvings, glanced back.

“These runes suggest a warning. Something about purity, rebirth, or cleansing. Maybe.”

“Or death,” Quaraun interjected.

BoomFuzzy smirked.

“Love, ye’ll ne’er know if ye dinnae step inside.”

“I refuse.”

“It was yar idea!”

“Maybe it was not a good idea.”

“Admitting ya made a mistake?”

“No.”

“You’re curious.”

“I am not.”

“Ye are.”

GhoulSpawn waved his hands.

“Stop bickering. This is obviously dangerous.”

“Danger’s fun,” BoomFuzzy quipped.

BoomFuzzy tapped his athame against the door, carving into the frost with delicate precision.

“This be ancient Fae craft, nae human work. Whoever left this here, they were protectin’ somethin’ nasty.”

“So likely the miasma tree is here.”

Quaraun pulled a small knife from his pink, puce sash and nicked his palm. Ruby droplets fell to the ground, evaporating with a hiss. A groan rumbled through the marble, and the great door creaked open, but not enough to get inside.

Quaraun sighed again, louder this time, and placed a reluctant hand on the door. The moonstone beneath his palm pulsed faintly, cold as ice and smooth as silk.

“We can not fit through that crack.”

“Push it.”

“Fine,” he snapped. “But when it kills us, I shall haunt you both for eternity.”

“Too late,” BoomFuzzy said. “I’m already doing that.”

“Take advantage of all that Lich strength of your’s and help me with the door.”

BoomFuzzy grinned, pushing the door with both hands. The marble groaned softly, shifting with a sound like footsteps echoing in an empty hall.

Beyond, the interior shimmered with pale light, welcoming and foreboding in equal measure.

“After you, Love,” BoomFuzzy purred, gesturing grandly.

Quaraun hesitated, his silver hair catching the ethereal glow. He stepped forward, cane tapping against the marble floor. The air inside smelled of coconut and creamy vanilla and fresh washed linens.

BoomFuzzy followed close behind, chuckling under his breath.

GhoulSpawn hesitated at the threshold, eyeing the runes one last time.

“This feels like a mistake.”

“It always does,” BoomFuzzy called back.

“See?” Quaraun smirked. “No oubliettes.”

“Yet,” GhoulSpawn muttered.

They stepped inside, their footsteps swallowed by a thick silence. The opulent chamber gleamed with white marble columns, mosaics of pearls glinting in eerie pale light.

“Beautiful,” Quaraun whispered, his cane tapping softly as he moved.

“No’ entirely.” BoomFuzzy’s voice dropped, low and trembling. He gestured toward the centre of the room, where a giant black onyx statue loomed — a grotesque contrast to the celestial surroundings.

The figure writhed, as though carved mid-transformation. Its limbs contorted unnaturally, and a thousand gaping mouths whispered indistinct chants. Shadows spilled from its base, coiling like sentient smoke.

“That’s not art,” GhoulSpawn murmured, backing toward the door. “That’s a warning.”

Quaraun inched closer, transfixed. His jellyfish tentacle hair writhed, reacting to the palpable waves of energy emanating from the eldritch effigy.

“It is Thullid craftsmanship. The statue is alive. Bound.”

“Leave it,” BoomFuzzy growled, his hand gripping Quaraun’s shoulder. “Ye’ve seen enough.”

“I have not,” Quaraun replied, brushing him aside. “Knowledge buried with dust is knowledge wasted.”

A hollow laugh echoed from the shadows.

“Fools,” hissed a disembodied voice.

Quaraun stood inches from the statue, mesmerized. He reached out, his gold mechanical hand trembling.

“The craftsmanship is unparalleled. These carvings, they are spells, etched into stone. It radiates life.”

BoomFuzzy stepped forward, his presence heavy with unease.

“Life trapped. Ye touch that, and ye risk wakin’ what sleeps.”

“I’m not touching it. I am studying it.”

Quaraun leaned closer, tracing runes with his gaze. The miasma around the statue thickened, snaking tendrils toward him. His tentacles bristled, lighting faint arcs of blue across his scalp.

“I feel it,” GhoulSpawn whispered from the doorway. “It’s… hungry.”

“Shush,” Quaraun commanded. His cane clattered to the floor as he reached out with his remaining hand. The whispers grew louder, guttural and pleading. His fingers hovered millimetres above the stone.

“Stop, JellyElf!” BoomFuzzy bellowed, lunging toward him. But it was too late.

Quaraun’s fingers brushed the surface, and the world tilted.

A deafening crack split the air.

The marble floor beneath their feet shattered like glass.

Quaraun yelped as he tumbled backward, his cane spiralling into the abyss. BoomFuzzy snatched at him midair, wrapping his arms around Quaraun as they plummeted.

GhoulSpawn’s shrill scream echoed as he followed, his coat flaring like wings. They struck the ground hard, landing in a damp, stifling void. The light from above disappeared as the broken floor resealed.

The air reeked of mildew and decay.

Black ichor dripped from the walls.

The chants persisted, louder now, filling the oubliette with malevolent echoes.

GhoulSpawn fumbled through his satchel, muttering under his breath. The oppressive darkness smothered the air, thick as tar. His fingers scraped across glass and metal, finally pulling free a dented lantern.

“Will you hurry!” Quaraun shrieked, his voice quivering. He clung to BoomFuzzy, jellyfish tentacles coiling protectively around them both. “I cannot see a thing! This is intolerable!”

“I’m trying!” GhoulSpawn hissed. His hooves scraped the floor as he crouched, rummaging for matches. “Do you know how hard it is to find anything when you can’t see?”

“Stop yer screechin’, Love,” BoomFuzzy said calmly, leaning against the damp wall. “Darkness isnae so bad. I’ve lived in it my whole life.”

“I am not you!” Quaraun shot back, trembling. “I need light!”

“Bah! Try being blind.”

GhoulSpawn finally found the box of matches and struck one. The feeble flame sputtered before winking out.

“Great! Wet matches.”

“Useless!” Quaraun wailed.

GhoulSpawn sighed and rubbed his temple.

“Wait. I’m a Demon. Duh.”

He snapped his fingers. A burst of Hellfire ignited in his palm, bathing the pit in flickering red light. With a smug grin, he transferred the fire to the lantern’s wick.

“See? Easy!”

The lantern’s glow revealed the pit’s grim details — slimy walls, spiderwebs hanging in ragged curtains, and a film of dust coating every surface.

Quaraun’s eyes widened in horror.

“No. NO!” His breaths came in shallow gasps.

“What? Where?” GhoulSpawn spun around expecting to see a monster ready to snatch them.

“It’s filthy!”

“What?”

“The dirt! The dust! It’s everywhere!”

“Love, calm yerself — ” BoomFuzzy began.

“No!” Quaraun shoved him aside, scrambling through his bag. His gold prosthetics clinked as he yanked free a pink beaded heart shaped bag of holding. He unfurled it with the reverence of unveiling a sacred relic.

His broom.

Before either could stop him, Quaraun lunged forward, wildly sweeping at the dust.

“Away, filth! Begone, vile dirt! You will not suffocate me!”

The broom lashed at the cobwebs, scattering debris in all directions. Clouds of dust rose like choking phantoms.

GhoulSpawn coughed violently, waving his hand in front of his face.

“Quaraun, STOP! You’re making it worse!”

“You do not understand!” Quaraun screeched, flailing the broom with abandon. “It’s attacking me! I can feel it in my lungs!”

“Ye’re stirrin’ it up, Love!” BoomFuzzy shouted, shielding his face with his arm.

Quaraun paid no heed, spinning in a frantic whirlwind of pink silk and gold limbs. The dust thickened, turning the lantern’s glow into a murky haze.

GhoulSpawn wheezed.

“We’re all gonna suffocate if you don’t — STOP!”

“I am saving us!” Quaraun declared, beating his broom against the walls.

BoomFuzzy sighed, shaking his head.

“Ye mad ya wee crazy Elf.” BoomFuzzy pulled the broom from Quaraun’s hands. “Come to ya senses, ya idiot.”

Quaraun groaned, struggling upright.

“Where are we?”

“A Thullid torture chamber by the look of it,” GhoulSpawn growled. “I warned you! We always end up in an oubliette. No exit. No air circulation. Do you hear that?”

The whispers became guttural laughter.

From the far corner of the chamber, something moved — a shimmering figure draped in blackened pearls and robes of smoke.

A Thullid priest stepped forward, its tentacles writhing, eyes glowing with malice.

“You should not have awakened it,” the priest hissed.

Quaraun’s lips parted in shock.

The statue’s presence filled his mind, a swirling storm of agony and rage.

“Get behind me, Love.” BoomFuzzy pulled Quaraun behind, twin athames drawn, their obsidian blades catching what little light remained.

“I told you! Oubliette!” GhoulSpawn was still muttering.

The Thullid priest loomed, its tendrils writhing like living chains, its voice dripping with malice.

“Follow, intruders. Resist, and you shall die before the High Priest sees you.”

“Wonderful,” GhoulSpawn muttered, shuffling forward as the creature gestured. “Just lovely. Another dark pit full of lunatic tentacle-heads.”

Quaraun hesitated, clutching BoomFuzzy’s sleeve.

“I do not trust this thing.”

“Neither do I,” BoomFuzzy said, keeping his athames in hand. “But ye’ve left us no choice.”

“How is this my fault?”

“I told ya not to touch the statue.”

The priest gestured sharply, and the walls around them pulsed, pushing them forward. The party reluctantly followed.

The tunnel stretched endlessly, twisting and narrowing as if alive, the walls pulsating with a faint bioluminescent glow. Dust and cobwebs hung thick, clinging to Quaraun’s robes and hair.

“Disgusting!” Quaraun shrieked, flailing at a web with his broom. “I cannot breathe! It reeks of mould and death! Give me my broom!”

Quaraun snatched his broom back from BoomFuzzy.

“Keep yer voice down, Love,” BoomFuzzy whispered. “Ye’re gonna draw more attention.”

“It is impossible to draw more attention when being herded by a slimy, overgrown squid!” Quaraun snapped, sweeping frantically. “Look at this! It’s on the floor and the walls and the ceiling! It’s everywhere!”

Dust swirled in the lantern light, choking the air.

“Quaraun, stop stirring it up!” GhoulSpawn coughed, his hooves clicking nervously on the uneven floor. “You’re just making it worse.”

“This is torture! I despise filth!” Quaraun wailed.

“Yes, ignore all the actual torture devices hanging from the walls and call the dust on the floor torture.”

The priest’s guttural laughter echoed down the tunnel.

“How amusing. The mortal fears dirt more than death.”

“Dirt is death!” Quaraun retorted, his voice echoing back at him. “And I am an Elf!”

“Quiet,” BoomFuzzy growled. “Both o’ ye.”

The tunnel opened into a vast chamber lined with gleaming black pearl mosaics, grotesque carvings of writhing bodies spiralling into oblivion. A podium loomed ahead, and atop it stood the High Priest.

The creature’s robes shimmered like an oil slick, its multiple eyes darting in different directions, and its mouth split into a toothless grin.

“They are here!” the High Priest rasped, throwing its spindly arms wide. “The glory of ZooLock shall be mine! These sacrifices shall feed the Hive’s ascension!”

Quaraun recoiled as the priest’s mind touched his own, a flood of madness and hunger invading his thoughts. He whimpered, pulling his broom to his chest as if it could protect him.

“What do ye want, ye gibberin’ beast?” BoomFuzzy demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

“The great ZooLock has awaited this day,” the High Priest said, its voice layered with an eerie hum.

“All hail The Great Zoo!” the cultists around him chanted.

“Three powerful beings, ripe with magic, shall complete the ritual! You will kneel before the Hive!”

“You want me to kneel in dust?”

“You will kneel if I say you will!”

“I do not kneel,” Quaraun spat, but his voice wavered as he eyed the dust on the floor and shuddered a the thought of it touching his knees.

The High Priest laughed.

“You will. Soon enough.”

The Thullid priest rambled on his evil plot, but Quaraun heard none of it.

Quaraun’s breath hitched, his vision tunnelling as the oppressive dust swirled around him. Each speck felt like a dagger slicing his throat, each cobweb a choking net. His mind roiled, not from fear, but rage.

“Enough!” Quaraun’s voice cracked, echoing off the slimy walls. His silver hair lashed out, shimmering like liquid mercury in the dim lantern glow.

“Silence, mortal!” the High Priest screeched, taking a step forward.

Quaraun’s azure eyes flared.

“You dare command me? You subject me to this filth, make me breathe dust, and then dare to give me orders! I? The Pink Necromancer? Wizard of The Di’Jinn Order! Most powerful being of all the known Universe!”

The priest faltered but recovered quickly.

“You are nothing but a trespasser! A vessel for — ”

“A vessel?” Quaraun’s laughter rang sharp and manic. “I am the Sacred Pink Jellyfish! I AM a Thullid! I am the Queen of the Hive! And you will kneel before me!”

Before anyone could react, Quaraun surged forward, wielding his broom like a staff. The bristles struck the priest across the face with a wet thwap, sending the creature staggering back in shock.

“Quaraun, stop!” GhoulSpawn yelped, but the Elf paid no heed.

The priest raised its writhing arms, but Quaraun’s mind lashed out. A wave of psionic energy exploded from him, slamming into every cultist in the chamber.

The lesser Thullids shrieked, their bodies convulsing as their minds buckled beneath the psychic assault.

The High Priest dropped to its knees, clutching its head, tentacles spasming in agony.

“Make me kneel in dust will you? YOU KNEEL IN DUST!”

BoomFuzzy stepped back, crossing his arms, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Och, ye’ve gone an’ done it now. Look at ye, me wee pink JellyElf gone full JellyFish on their arses, no more Elf in the Jelly. Givin’ them a right show.”

GhoulSpawn, however, scrambled behind BoomFuzzy, muttering nervously.

“This is bad. This is so bad. He’s going to kill us all in a dust-induced frenzy.”

Quaraun ignored them.

Quaraun franticly waved his broom around while hysterically shrieking.

“I warned you,” Quaraun hissed, advancing. His silver hair coiled and slithered like serpents, glowing faintly with an unearthly light. “You meddle with powers far beyond your comprehension! Your Great ZooLock stole me from my ocean and implanted me inside the skull of this Elf and ow I am forced to live on the surface, where dirt and dust and dry air exist! I AM SUPPOSED TO BE SWIMMING IN THE OCEAN! You worship ME, REMEMBER! But I escaped! I am free now! I am not ZooLock’s slave any more and you will not take me back to him!”

The priest writhed at his feet, its glowing eyes dimming as Quaraun’s voice boomed inside its skull.

“You have the audacity to summon me to this wretched pit? You call yourself a servant of ZooLock?”

“I… I did not know… you… my Lady!” the priest stammered, collapsing under the weight of Quaraun’s mental assault.

“No. You didn’t.” Quaraun tilted his head, his expression cold.

“Forgive me, my Lady!”

“DON’T CALL ME THAAAT!”

A final psionic burst rippled outward. One by one, the Thullids slumped to the ground, unconscious. The chamber fell silent, save for the echo of Quaraun’s ragged breathing.

BoomFuzzy clapped slowly, stepping forward.

“Well done, Love. That broom o’ yers is deadlier than a blade.”

“Deadly?” Quaraun hissed, slamming the broom into the floor. “It is filthy! I demand air! Clean air! Now!”

BoomFuzzy chuckled, scooping the distraught Elf into his arms. “Let’s find our way out, aye? Ghouly, get the broom. He’ll want it washed.”

“I still did not get my miasma crystal,” Quaraun said.

“You still on about that?”

“That is why we were here.”

“Ya really expect to find it here?”

“This is where all those maps said it was.”

GhoulSpawn trotted back over with the broom.

“What does this thing do anyways?”

“The miasma crystal?”

“Yeah.”

“Magic is powered by miasma. It is why we have to keep going to the Miasma River to gather bottles of Miasma.”

“Yeah. I get that. What’s this miasma crystal tree do?”

“I have never seen one.”

“Meanin’ he does not know if they even exist,” BoomFuzzy added.

“You don’t even know if this thing’s real?”

“No. I been trying to find one for years. Supposedly, it is a tree that grows crystals, and the crystals are filled with miasma, so you, in theory, could take a miasma crystal and wear it like a necklace and always have a steady miasma supply. Not need to constantly be gathering up more miasma from the Miasma River. I thought if we could find one, maybe we could figure out how to move the tree to the bio dome or collect some branches to graft to our apple trees and grow some new ones.”

“So, you almost got us captured by ZooLock’s deranged Cult, because you are looking for a mythical tree that prob’ly doesn’t even exist?”

“Yes.”

“We;;. at least him stupid enough to admit it, eh, Goat?”

“I’m a Sheep.”

“Aye. Let’s go look for his tree before the cultists wake up, eh?”

“Really?”

“Might as well. We’re already down here. And we can’t exactly get out the way we came in, unless ya know how to flu up and oubliette.”

“Oh yeah. I forgot about the oubliette.”

“See? We got to explore around to find an exit. So we might as well look for his silly tree while we look for an exist. Let’s go.”

The End?

Word count: 4,609

| ©2024 Wendy Christine Allen | All Rights Reserved |

Today’s story used this prompt:Day 18:

• Wetland &
• — Bonus Dare: Basket
• — Double Bonus Dare: Broom
• — Triple Bonus Dare: Mirror

Daily optional extras — add 1 or more of these if you want extra challenges:

• Colour of the day: Pearl White
• Weather of the day: Frosty Morning
• Food of the day: Rice Pudding
• Vibe of the day: Peaceful
• Flavour of the day: Coconut
• Scent of the day: Fresh Linen (not just the scent, but actual fresh washing now hanging on a clothesline and the crisp soap smell on the breeze as the wind blows them dry)
• Taste of the day: Creamy Vanilla
• Touch/sensation of the day: Cold Marble
• Sound of the day: Soft Footsteps
• Location of the day: Marble Temple
• Gemstone of the day: Moonstone
• Emotion of the day: Tranquil

Quaraun and BoomFuzzy

The Pink Necromancer, Moon Elf silk weaver & merchant: Quaraun on Noodle Beach. His master chef Phooka turned Lich husband: BoomFuzzy with his 1968 VW Bus Beach Noodle Food Truck. And their on again/off again mad scientist Sheep Demon lover: GhoulSpawn with his 1974 AMC Gremlin time machine. Time Travel setting swings back and forth between 40th century Maine after a comet hit the moon decimating the planet, and the 1970s, Maine. Quaraun in the main character, he and BoomFuzzy are a married gay couple. GhoulSpawn is their shared live-in lover. Art by Wendy Christine Allen.

BoomFuzzy

Quaraun

GhoulSpawn and BoomFuzzy

GhoulSpawn

GhoulSpawn and Quaraun

Faeries vs Elves (In The Quaraun Series) A Pink Necromancer World Lore Post

The Pink Necromancer: The Adventures of Quaraun The Insane aka The Twighlight Manor Series

🌸🦄🌸 Furry Yaoi Fiction about Elves and Faeries and Satyrs and Demons and Unicorns and Technomancer Wizards and Liches living in a Lighthouse and surviving as Travelling Merchants and Food Truck Chefs in Cyberpunk Dystopian 40th Century Maine, and Zombie Apocalypse and Time Travel but it’s Slice of Life Vignettes of Mundane Daily Lives of The UnSeelie Court’s Royal Family trying to survive after a comet hit the moon and turned the Earth into a CyberPunk Ice-Age. 🌸🦄🌸

• eBook Editions from this series can be found on: GumRoad

• Kindle, eBook, Print Paperback, & full colour illustrated Hardcover Editions from this series can be found on: Amazon

Meet The Characters

Books By Wendy Christine Allen
Currently Available on Amazon Kindle:

Index of the Quaraun novels, novellas, & short story collections on Amazon

And GumRoad:

Index of the Quaraun short stories on GumRoad

On Medium:

An Index of the more than TWO THOUSAND Quaraun Short Stories on Medium

(NOTE: a $5 or $15 per month paid subscription required to access stories on Medium)

On Vocal:

Index of the Quaraun short stories on Vocal

On Notd:

Index of the Quaraun Short Stories on Notd

On OnlyFans:

Index of the Quaraun Short Stories on OnlyFans

(NOTE: a $4.99 per month paid subscription required to access stories on OnlyFans)

Pink Necromancer Merch: On CafePress:

An Index of the Quaraun Merch on CafePress

Pink Necromancer Merch: On Zazzle:

Index of the Quaraun Merch on Zazzle

Not Quaraun:

This page was written by Wendy Christine Allen of 146 Portland Ave, Old Orchard Beach, Maine.

All Rights Reserved.