Caelmar peered into the pit before him, moving his lantern and straining his eyes to try to catch some glimpse of what lay below. It was deep, that much was certain—deeper by far than the cleft in the mountain he had climbed down to reach this place.

Here and there, he caught a glimpse of plantlife—large mushrooms and sturdy lichens that sprawled on the walls, and strange vines that reached for the lip of the pit. Great leafy bulbs could be seen amidst the vines as well, each shut tight against his lantern light. The pit itself swept open as it went down, opening into a wide expanse teeming with the sounds of dripping water and chirping insects. The locals called this place Moon Silver Grotto, and they said it was the most blessed place in all the world.

Other people would have just as soon called it their grave. Strewn amidst the dark and rugged flora far below, Caelmar’s lantern light caught the pale white of bone and the occasional glint of metal.

Caelmar took a deep breath, feeling as if the looming walls of the cavern closed in around him. He wouldn’t have dared this place at all were it not for his daughter’s illness. A plague had laid little Saela low, and no cure was known save what this cave might offer. An hour from the village where he’d left her, Caelmar was uncertain if she yet drew breath.

But if the legends of this place were true, he might save her yet.

Sighing, Caelmar fastened his lantern to his belt next to his sword and pulled out his mallet and pitons. He did his best to be gentle with them, both to avoid shearing the rock as to minimize the noise. Even so, the tappings of his mallet echoed throughout the stone chamber, and he thought at one point he heard a rustle from the pit below.

Pitons in place, he unfurled his rope and secured it before letting its length drop down the pit. Another deep breath, a short prayer to whatever gods would sympathize with his daughter’s plight, and he lowered himself with every possible care down the hole. His lantern clattered against the rocky walls before they swept outward to encompass the entirety of the grotto. Through the wide caps of massive mushrooms and hanging, tangling vines he descended, and upon the damp soil below his feet at last rested. Several tiny pale somethings flitted away with the hum of insect wings to disappear into the tangle surrounding him.

Caelmar looked around at the foliage, noting for a moment that one of the bulbs nearby had split open. About the size of a head, the seam in the side widened slightly, then slowly shut against the glow from his lantern.

To his left, a rustle in the vines.

He looked, and saw the foliage waver ever so slightly. Quietly as he could manage, he reached to his hip and drew forth his sword. Then he waited.

Silence. Utter silence save for the dripping of water and the sporadic hums of leaping insects.

Slowly, his ears straining against the silence, he took a step. Soft earth squished under his boot. He took another step, then another.

Still no more rustling. It appeared he was alone.

With step after step, Caelmar was soon making his way through the grotto, his eyes straining into the edges of his lantern light to find anything that might resemble a flower.

The locals nearby had told of the moonflower. Legends held that its pollen would cure any ailment if inhaled under the glow of the full moon.

Mere fairy tales, Caelmar thought, even as he hoped they were true.

He heard it again. A rustling in the foliage. He spun about, sword raised and ready to strike, his off hand stretched forward to stop whatever charge might come. But again, nothing followed the sound, and the plantlife loomed perfectly still in the lantern’s yellow glow.

He peered at the massive bulbs and mushrooms around him. The villagers had told him he would recognize the flower by its blue glow and purple speckling, and that it grew by running water in dark places. But he saw no rivers here, and nothing shone in this place save his lantern.

He thought a moment of shuttering his lantern, but then remembered the rustling in the vines. He decided against it, pressing forward instead. His eyes sought for anything that might resemble petals, and his ears strove for the sound of running water.

When Caelmar found a clearing, he heard it. A faint, rushing hum. Under his feet, he felt a vibration. It was near, he was sure of it. Stepping deeper into the clearing, he looked around, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise—

The ground broke away under his left foot, plunging him halfway into a pit. The noise of rushing water, once faint, now echoed loud throughout the chamber. His leg dangled into the river below the soil and rock, the water chilling him to the bone as he grabbed at the ground with his free hand. His lantern wedged between his hip and the edge of this new hole in the ground.

Vines rustled, and he heard a growl behind him.

Frantically, he twisted to bring his sword to bear, but gasped in pain as the lantern dug into his hip. The vines and stalks wavered, then split to reveal the long snout of a large lizard. Its head was about the length of Caelmar’s arm and covered in bony ridges. Large yellow eyes glittered in the scant rays of his lantern, and the mouth split to reveal long rows of sharp teeth. A hiss escaped the creature as it pushed out from the growth all around.

Caelmar shoved against the sodden earth to try to force his way out of the hole, but only wrenched his hip instead. Gasping, he swiped with his sword, catching the creature on its snout with a shallow wound. Blood ran, and the creature screeched and withdrew into the foliage.

No time, he thought. It would surely return. His heart pounded as he dropped his sword to brace both hands against the sodden ground. Grunting, heaving, he managed to pull his soaked leg from the underwater river. Scarcely had he done so that a noise, half roar and half shriek, sounded from the foliage. The lizard creature rushed at him on all fours, the spined arch of its back up to his hip, and opened its jaws to snap at his leg.

Caelmar tried to step back, but felt only pain as teeth pierced his flesh and pulled him to the ground. The lantern broke free from his belt and rolled toward the pit, throwing its light in wild rays throughout the grotto. Nearby, his dropped sword flashed in the spinning yellow glow.

Light or steel? Caelmar felt the teeth tugging and rending his flesh, and opted for steel. He twisted, yelling in pain as he did so, all while the creature jerked him back toward the thick vegetation around the clearing. One finger, then two touched the pommel of his weapon before he was pulled out of reach, and the grotto went suddenly dark. The lantern plunked into the river below.

In the dark, he felt the grit of the soil, then the press of vines and stems as the creature drew him into the tangled growth. Desperately, he groped at his belt for his knife. Perhaps he might drive off this creature yet, if only his hand would stop shaking.

Even as he thought this, he felt his fingeres go cold as his tattered leg grew warm with blood. The creature’s sturdy jaws clamped tighter, grazing bone. Pain shot up through his body into white-hot bursts in his mind, and he saw stars in the dark.

No, not stars, he thought vaguely. These lights were too soft for stars.

A faint blue glow shone through the mess of stems and vines around him, shimmering from somewhere on the distant edge of the grotto. Another light appeared, closer now, and then another.

A jolt of pain shot through him as the creature shook its head, tearing his calf muscles free inch by inch. He nearly passed out, but saw a nearby bulb split open to reveal a bluish sheen within. The scales unfolded to reveal large furled petals.

Moonflowers? Here all along?

His shaking hand found the knife on his belt. With a desperate burst of strength, he sat up, pulled the blade from its sheath, and drove it into the monster’s head. Bone cracked. Blood sprayed. With with a shriek, the creature released him and fled, taking his knife with it. Bleeding into the soil, he panted as darkness encroached upon his vision and his fingers went cold.

He looked at the unfurling bulb next to him. Slowly, the flower within opened to reveal its silvery blue glow in full splendor, its petals long and dotted with a deep purple.

Caelmar grasped the stem and pulled it toward himself, causing a shower of silver pollen to puff into the damp air. He sneezed once, twice, then coughed as his vision went dark.

Too late, he thought. His mind wandered into drifting shadow.

Moments later, the sloshing of water sounded in his ears. He smelled cool air and damp earth, and he heard the rustling of leaves. Opening his eyes, he saw the open sky above. The full moon shone in her splendor amid the stars in a scene rimmed all around by a circle of dark trees. A gentle breeze stirred the leaves, causing them to flutter against the starlit blue above.

He looked down before him to see his legs submerged in a pool of water. All around the pool was the dense wall of a deep forest, the towering tree trunks rising from tangles of foliage with nothing but darkness visible beyond.

What was this? Caelmar thought a moment that it might be some heaven. Or perhaps a hell?

The water rippled, and the air shimmered with a pale white light just above it. Caelmar watched wide eyed as the light coalesced into the form of a figure in a pure white gown. Silver tresses curled about her face, framing the grey eyes and pure smile of the most beautiful visage he had ever witnessed. A woman stood upon the water before him, her slippered feet scarcely touching the surface.

She stepped toward him, her feet sending ripples out upon the water. As she drew near, she spoke a word that he could not comprehend. It sounded like the breath of the wind at midnight, or perhaps like the echoes of chirping crickets under glittering stars. Visions of moonlight filled his mind, and all pain left his body.

She finally stood over him, her smile gleaming in the night.

Rest, she said, though he did not see her lips part.

At ease, Caelmar shut his eyes and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

The rest was short-lived, for he woke moments later in the dark. The only light was the shining flower near his head, and the only sound was the muffled rushing of water. Caelmar looked down and saw his tattered leggins in the dim bluish glow. He twitched his toes.

No pain.

No pain!

He sat up, taking his leg in both hands, feeling his skin. As clean and smooth as the day he was born, he thought. Joyful, he sprang to his feet and looked around.

Numerous flowers shone in the dark, their glowing petals obscured somewhat by the tangle of sub-earth growth all around him. He would need to take one of these, he thought. Maybe a few more to spare for future hurts. He reached to his belt for his knife—

Ah, right. The monster had taken it.

He cast about, the echoes of the underground river resounding throughout the chamber. He thought he could pinpoint the source just behind him.

It wasn’t long before he found his sword, and in short order he had made his way back to his dangling rope with several bulbs tied shut around his belt. A quick climb up the rope and out the cave, and he was soon walking under the moonlit sky down the mountain slope. The candle lights from a village flickered in the valley below.

Saela would live, thought Caelmar as he made his way toward the village. He looked upward at the heavens, admiring the stars winking and glittering overhead. The glorious disc of the full moon shone brightly among them, and for a moment, Caelmar thought he saw a face in its silver glow.

He smiled, and continued on his way.

Saela did indeed live, for the pollen was potent. As she grew, Caelmar noted how she often stayed up on nights of the full moon, at times with the cheerful notes of a song on her lips. He knew not the words of her songs, but they always invoked sensations in his mind, like the sound of wind at midnight, or the chirps of crickets under glittering stars.

Pale eyed, she was, with silver tresses.

The most beautiful sight he ever beheld.

The Astral Wanderer is brought to you by whispered legends and snarling monsters. Support the creation of these short stories by sharing them with your friends, or pitch in a few bucks on Patreon. All proceeds go toward finding cures for ailing waifs in remote mountain villages. Really.