Idiru's Trap

The wand glowed faintly, always tilting northwest. Guided by its gentle tug, the Borscht Brigade left the streets of Northwind behind. With fresh rations, sharpened weapons, and a vague sense of purpose, they passed through the northern city gates and onto the open road—then soon into the forest beyond.

On the first night, Sharkie decided to test the wand’s magic. With a few whispered druidic words and a flick of her hand, the wand bloomed with green light. From the forest floor, roots twisted upward, forming a shelter of tightly-woven vines and leaves. It was large and warm inside—almost cozy—but Sharkie made no secret of claiming the space for herself.

Dray stared at the single hammock-like resting platform with exaggerated disbelief. “There’s room in there for ten people at least.”

“I made it,” Sharkie said. “Get your own vine palace.”

The rest of the group laughed as they made their more modest camp. While Sharkie slept on a magical bed of moss that was extremely comfortable Dray mumbled in his sleep about it not being fair. The next day they continued their journey.

They heard the creatures before they saw them—growls, hissing, the sharp bark of a frustrated goblin. From the tree line, the Borscht Brigade peered down into a small clearing. There, under a patchy canopy of broken branches and scorched grass, stood a crude encampment. Iron cages, some stacked two high, contained magical beasts: a restless brown bear pacing in tight circles, a silver pseudodragon coiled tightly around itself, a wounded cougar licking its paw, and, in the largest cage, a mother griffin huddled protectively over her mewling infant.

A dozen goblins circled the cages, poking them with spears. Two massive bugbears lounged nearby, half-watching. Their armor was mismatched but spiked, and one was gnawing on a roasted hare.

“That is a lot enemies,” Aggar whispered. “I see… wait…”

Izutsumi held up a hand. “There—another patrol coming from the west. Two more bugbears. We’ll need to hit fast and hard.”

“I do not care how many enemies they are, we are freeing those animals” said Sharkie.

“Of course we are” said Izutsumi as the others nodded in agreement.

Rufus grinned. “I can circle around through those fallen logs. Get the flank.”

“I’ll take the lead with Sharkie,” Izutsumi said, already focusing on her druidic form. “Brown bears?”

Sharkie nodded, her eyes gleaming with anticipation, she despised any creature that would trap and mistreat animals, a sentiment that her druid friend Izutsumi shared. Their wild shape was fueled with fiery anger and to their companions their bear forms seemed somewhat larger than normal.

“Wait for my mark,” Aggar said, drawing an arrow.

Dray loosened his sword from its sheath. “Let’s do this.”

Aggar’s arrow flew from the trees, slamming into the shoulder of a goblin. At the same moment, both druids surged forward, their bodies twisting and expanding, fur exploding outward as they shifted into hulking brown bears. Dray roared and charged behind them.

The goblins shrieked, scrambling to draw weapons. The nearest was crushed beneath Sharkie’s charging form, bones snapping audibly. Izutsumi swatted another into a cage with enough force to dent the bars.

From the far side of the camp, Rufus leapt from the logs and landed atop a goblin, burying both daggers into its back before vanishing into the shadows again.

The bugbears surged to their feet.

One hurled a javelin that lodged into Dray’s thigh. He roared in pain but pressed on, bringing his sword down onto the attacker’s shoulder in retaliation. Sparks flew. The bugbear grunted and responded with a brutal hook of its club, slamming Dray backward.

Meanwhile, Aggar fired again—and missed. The arrow whizzed past its target and struck Izutsumi in the back of her massive bear form.

She let out a muffled growl and turned, her bear eyes narrowing dangerously. Aggar winced. “Sorry! Sorry!”

Two goblins regrouped near the cages and tried to threaten the creatures inside. The cougar hissed and lashed out through the bars, swiping one goblin across the face. The goblin fell back screaming, clutching its bleeding eyes.

One of the bugbears locked eyes with Dray. “You fight well,” it said in a growl. “But you die now.”

It swung its massive club in an overhead arc. Dray barely dodged—one blow glanced off his shoulder, nearly toppling him. He staggered but swept his sword upward in a rising cut that bit deep into the creature’s gut. With a second spin, he followed up, slicing across its chest. The bugbear gurgled and dropped.

Across the clearing, Sharkie slammed into the other bugbear. The brute grabbed her mid-charge but she didn’t stop and smashed him into a cage. The thick wooden bars bent some with an audible cracking sound.

Izutsumi leapt in, flanking the creature, her massive paws raking across its back. But the bugbear was a survivor—it spun and struck her with a backhanded blow, driving her back.

Aggar recovered and began laying down accurate fire, pinning goblins behind crates and keeping the wounded bugbears from regrouping. Two goblins made a break for the woods—but Rufus intercepted one with a flying tackle, stabbing it through the ribs.

The other goblin ran—then exploded in a burst of flame.

“Where there is Rufus, there is fire,” Rufus called out, brushing soot from his coat.

Only two enemies remained—one bugbear and a goblin captain rallying behind a cage. The goblin tried to negotiate.

“We’ll let you take the animals! Let us go!”

Izutsumi shifted back into her elven form. “You were going to sell them.”

The goblin spat and lunged.

Too slow.

Dray caught it mid-charge with a brutal slash that lifted it off the ground. The goblin hit the dirt, motionless.

The last bugbear grabbed a burning log and swung it wildly. Sharkie, back in humanoid form, ducked and launched an ice knife into the bugbear’s neck. It screamed, stumbling toward the pseudodragon’s cage.

Rufus appeared from the side and cut through its hamstring. The bugbear dropped—and Izutsumi finished it with a quick downward strike of her staff.

The forest fell silent again, save for the heavy breathing of the group and the whimpers of the freed animals.

Dray wiped blood from his scales and sheathed his sword. “That… was a fight.”

Aggar walked over to Izutsumi. “Seriously, I’m sorry about the arrow.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said. “Unless you want me to turn into a bear and sit on you.”

They laughed, the tension beginning to ease.

Then Rufus unlocked the silver Psuedodragon’s cage.

“Thank you, I am Idiru” said the silver pseudodragon, his voice delicate but clear in their minds. “I’ve been waiting… for a long time.” Idiru told the group how he had been captured by the bugbears, they had lured him outside away from his home. He had been lonely ever since his master had abandoned him and was hoping to make new friends. He told the group his home was not far and asked for their help getting back. The group agreed.

Idiru’s “home” was a marvel—an extradimensional space carved into the heart of an impossibly large tree. The inside was larger than the outside suggested: bookshelves floated in the air, arcane lanterns glowed without flame, and a crackling fireplace warmed a plush sitting area.

A device sat on a central pedestal—a softly humming orb surrounded by glowing sigils.

“My master built this for me,” Idiru explained. “He… left. A long time ago. I’ve been alone since.”

“Left?” Izutsumi asked.

“Betrayed me,” Idiru said. “He promised that we would always be friends.”

The orb shimmered. “But he made this. It provides food. Anything you want.”

The group’s suspicions were dulled by hunger and curiosity. Aggar asked for cake. Dray asked for roast duck. Izutsumi requested a fruit tart and warm cider. In a flash, the meals appeared—fresh, fragrant, delicious.

Rufus did not eat. Neither did Sharkie.

Rufus was the first to wander, while Sharkie decided she felt more comfortable outside and left. Once outside she conjured her magical shelter and kept watch beneath the stars.

While the others reclined on velvet cushions and devoured conjured meals—roast pheasant with herb crust, raspberry tarts, and steaming bread that seemed to bake itself in mid-air—he paced the outer chambers of Idiru’s tree-home, his footsteps muffled by mossy green carpet and soft arcane hums from the roots.

Something felt wrong.

He couldn’t place it at first. Everything was too perfect. The lighting, the temperature, the scent of lavender in the air—it all felt like a dream trying a little too hard to be real. He passed a mirror that reflected him slightly out of sync, just enough to notice. A book titled “Companionship in Solitude” turned blank when he tried to read it.

Then he found the door.

Tucked behind a sloped section of bark, hidden by illusion and silence, it opened with a faint groan. Rufus stepped inside.

It was a study—dusty, untouched. The hearth was cold. A teacup sat atop a journal. And slumped beside the writing desk was a skeletal figure in faded robes, slumped over as if he’d simply dozed off and never woken up.

Rufus froze.

The robes bore the sigils of a high-ranking wizard. Charms still hung from his belt, their magic long faded. Parchments were scattered on the desk, detailing enchantment matrices and long-winded musings on emotional manipulation through magic.

There was no sign of violence—just stillness. Forgotten death. The pseudodragon’s master had never left. The “betrayal” wasn’t abandonment. It was death. This was strange and concerning. Rufus backed out slowly. He had to talk to the group.

Back in the lounge, Dray was stretching across a couch. “I think I’m going to claim the sunlit room upstairs. That window view? Can’t beat it.”

“I call the reading alcove,” said Izutsumi between bites of cake.

“I’ve always liked trees,” Aggar added dreamily. “Could stay here forever.”

Rufus stood in the doorway, pale.

“Guys,” he said quietly. “We need to leave. Now.”

The group turned to look at him, confused.

“I found something—his old master. He’s dead. Upstairs. Skeleton in a chair.”

“What?” Izutsumi frowned.

“He didn’t leave. He died here. And none of you think it’s weird that the food here makes you want to stay forever?”

Aggar waved a hand. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Idiru seems harmless,” Dray added. “He’s been nothing but kind.”

“Exactly,” Rufus said, eyes narrowing. “Too kind.”

That night, Rufus stepped out into the forest air. The cool breeze steadied him. He found Sharkie sitting in her conjured shelter, watching the stars with her arms crossed. She let Rufus into the shelter, the first time she had let anyone share it. It was far more comfortable than Rufus had imagined. He told Sharkie everything.

When he finished, she was already standing. “Yeah. I’ve had a weird feeling about that place. The air’s too heavy in there. Like it wants you to fall asleep.”

“Right?” Rufus nodded. “I think Idiru might be evil.”

They agreed that in the morning, they’d find out.

The smell of conjured pancakes wafted through the tree.

Inside, Aggar and Dray were debating breakfast toppings while flipping through wardrobe illusions. Izutsumi was admiring a wall that shifted to show a different season each time she blinked.

Rufus and Sharkie walked in, serious.

“We need to talk,” Rufus said.

Izutsumi glanced over. “More skeleton drama?”

“No jokes,” Sharkie said. “We’re being serious. Idiru’s master built this place to trap people. That food machine? I think it’s enchanted.”

Rufus added, “We think the food is messing with your heads. Making you want to stay. Think about it. You didn’t want to stay here yesterday.”

“Because yesterday we hadn’t tried the pancakes,” Dray muttered, chewing.

“I’m serious,” Rufus snapped. “Don’t you find it odd how your first thought this morning was about which room you wanted?”

Izutsumi crossed her arms. “Maybe we just want a break.”

Sharkie stared at her. “This place doesn’t give breaks. It steals time.”

“You’re paranoid,” Aggar said. “Idiru’s just a lonely dragon. He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

Rufus’s eyes narrowed. “Let’s test that.”

Rufus and Sharkie returned to the upper study and began looking for anything that might provide insight into what had happened. Rufus was starting to think that Idiru had killed his master. After searching they found a journal with a magical seal. With Sharkie’s help, Rufus disabled the minor ward on the wizard’s journal. It opened with a soft snap, revealing page after page of scrawled thoughts.

“Idiru grows restless,” one entry read. “He does not understand why I do not leave this place.”

“I built the food orb to ensure I am never alone,” read another. “It will make Idiru feel comfortable and safe. My initial ethical concerns are abating, after all I have provided my friend with a home and food forever. If the food makes him want to stay all the better, he is protected here.”

“This isn’t just a food maker,” Sharkie whispered. “It’s a baited trap.”

More entries confirmed it. The enchantment was subtle—emotional magic woven into every meal, triggering memories of comfort, disarming suspicion, reinforcing nostalgia. Not domination—just a strong, beautiful lie.

They looked at each other.

“He’s been trapped here just as long as we would’ve been,” Sharkie said softly.

Rufus nodded. “We need to free him.” Rufus and Sharkie descended the stairs with purpose. The rest of the group had drifted into a content daze again. Dray was polishing his sword by the floating hearth, humming a childhood tune. Aggar and Izutsumi were curled up in conjured blankets, sipping cocoa and speaking in warm tones about maybe taking a “short break” from adventuring—“just to rest, just for a while.”

Idiru hovered nearby, tail curled in a lazy figure-eight above a cushion. The silver pseudodragon’s eyes sparkled, not with mischief, but with joy.

“You’re staying?” he asked hopefully.

Rufus didn’t answer. He crossed the room and stood before the pedestal.

The food orb hovered silently above its bronze cradle—gentle hum, gentle glow, soft floral scent. Dozens of sigils rotated around it in slow, perfect rhythm. At a glance, it seemed harmless. Beautiful, even. But they knew now.

“Don’t,” Idiru said suddenly, drifting closer. “You’ll break it. It’s part of the house. You’ll ruin everything.”

“We have to,” Sharkie said gently.

“You don’t understand,” Idiru pleaded, wings flaring slightly. “This place—it’s my home. It’s all I have. My master—he made it for me.”

“He made it for himself,” Rufus replied, eyes hard. “So he wouldn’t be alone. And he made sure you wouldn’t be able to leave either. Whether you wanted to be or not.”

Idiru hovered back, uncertain.

“He trapped you here,” Sharkie said. “And now it’s trying to trap us.”

The pseudodragon turned his head, his voice suddenly quieter. “But it’s nice here. Warm. Safe. People are kind when they stay. They tell stories. They smile. They don’t leave.”

“You’ve been here for decades,” Sharkie said. “Waiting for someone who never came back.”

Rufus placed his hand on the pedestal. “We’re not going to leave you. But we’re going to set you free.”

He drew his dagger.

Idiru flinched. “Please… don’t...”

The first sigil cracked as the blade sliced through one of the spell-chains. Sparks flew. The orb flickered.

“No—NO!” Idiru shrieked, diving to block the next strike—but Sharkie intercepted him mid-air with a soft wall of vines, gently restraining him.

One by one, Rufus carved through the orb’s matrix. The music stopped. The scent vanished. A high-pitched whine filled the air—and with a pulse of blue-white light, the orb cracked open like a glass egg and shattered into glittering shards that vanished before they hit the floor. The house fell silent.

The temperature dropped by a few degrees. The floating lights dimmed. The fireplace extinguished itself with a huff of smoke. The illusion of comfort, of home, was gone.

Idiru collapsed to the floor.

He curled tightly, wings covering his face. A faint whimper echoed in their minds—not words, just the sound of hurt.

Sharkie knelt beside him. “You were caught in it, same as us. He didn’t mean to hurt you—but he did.”

Idiru’s voice trembled. “I thought I was abandoned. Left behind. But he never left because he never could…”

Rufus placed a hand on the little dragon’s side. “You weren’t abandoned. But you were trapped. Now you’re free to choose.”

The pseudodragon stayed curled a moment longer. Then slowly, he uncoiled. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You come with us,” said Izutsumi gently, approaching with Aggar and Dray behind her. They were groggy—confused—but clear-headed now.

“You don’t have to be alone,” Dray added. “but we definitely don’t have floating beds.”

Idiru blinked up at them. A single tear, silver like quicksilver, rolled from his eye.

“Will you be my friend” Idiru asked?

“I will even share my shelter with you” said Sharkie.

“It is really nice in there” said Rufus “It even has beds”.

“What she let you in but not us, this is not fair” roared Dray. Izutsumi and Aggar laughed.