They say you should never anger a forest spirit. But nobody ever warned me about Brugg. Brugg is a Butt-Un—a particularly unpleasant mushroom creature known for his temper, his terrible manners…and his complete inability to mind his own business. He appeared one autumn morning beneath an ancient elm tree. Nobody saw him arrive. There was simply a little mound of earth where the night before there had been nothing, and by sunrise, Brugg was sitting there. 

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Watching. Waiting. And looking extremely annoyed. 

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But there was something very strange about Brugg. Every night, after the

forest went quiet, he disappeared. And one morning, they found something

buried beneath the place where he had been sitting. 

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*  * * 

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Nobody knows exactly where Brugg came from. The oldest forest dwellers claim that Butt-Uns don't actually grow from seeds. They remember themselves into existence.

When a forest has kept a secret for long enough, sometimes the

secret becomes too heavy for the earth to hold. And when that

happens… 

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a Butt-Un appears. 

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Brugg emerged beneath an ancient elm during the first cold week of autumn. He said nothing. He didn't need to. His enormous eyes followed every creature that passed beneath the branches, and his permanent scowl made it abundantly clear that he disapproved of nearly all of them. 

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The squirrels avoided him. The rabbits pretended not to see him. Even the crows gave him a respectful amount of personal space. But every night, when the moon rose, Brugg disappeared. 

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At first, the forest creatures assumed he simply wandered off. But then someone noticed something strange. Every morning, there were new footprints around Brugg's usual resting place. Not his footprints. Something else's. Something much larger. 

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The tracks circled Brugg's little patch of earth once – twice - and then vanished into the trees. 

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The creatures began whispering. Was Brugg guarding something?

Was something guarding Brugg? Then, one morning, Brugg was gone.

In his place was a hole beneath the elm. And inside that hole was a

small wooden box. 

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No one knew who had put it there. No one knew how long it had been

buried. And most importantly, no one knew why Brugg had been sitting

on top of it. The box was covered in strange markings. Three of them

looked like mushrooms. One looked like an eye. And a symbol no one in

the forest recognized. Everyone was afraid to open it. 

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Everyone except Tallus. 

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Tallus had never been particularly good at leaving mysterious things alone. He dug the box from the earth and carried it back to his little home. That night, by lantern light, he finally opened it. 

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Inside was no treasure.No gold. No ancient weapon. There was only a single black seed wrapped in a piece of faded green cloth. And beneath it was a letter. Tallus unfolded the brittle paper. He recognized the writing immediately. It was from Arduinna. 

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Tallus — 

If you have found this, then Brugg has left the elm. Do not waste your time searching for him. He was never meant to remain in one place. For many years, Brugg watched over something beneath the roots of the old elm. Something that must not be disturbed. Now that he is gone, that duty has fallen to you. Guard the seed. Do not plant it. Do not give it to anyone. And whatever you do, do not let it hear your name. 

— Arduinna 

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Tallus read the letter twice. Then a third time. He stared down at the little black seed. It looked different than before, because now a tiny root had begun to emerge from the seed. Tallus stared at it. The root slowly curled across the bottom of the box. And then— 

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it knocked. Three times. From inside the seed. 

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Tallus slammed the lid shut. 

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And Brugg? No one ever found him. Not beneath the elm. Not in the hollow. Not anywhere in the forest. But sometimes, very late at night, the animals hear something moving between the trees. Slow footsteps. A heavy rustling. And occasionally the unmistakable sound of an irritated little grunt. 

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Some say Brugg is still out there. Watching.  Waiting.Or perhaps he has gone somewhere even the forest cannot reach. But if you ever find a black seed beneath an old elm… 

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don't let it hear your name.