#gets jumped by some of the mini mycelia and has to have them peeled off him

[flarebean]

he takes them back to the palace and the white lady is like. ah. you idiot.

except not in those words. it's more like

'wyrm, has your endeavour fallen through? poorly thought out and desperate as it was. a new plague arises, as sure as your weakness in this path. drought, perhaps, for offspring resembling my form will possess a truly voracious thirst as they grow. be wary who or what you permit our children to cling to.'

anyway it's fine, they convert the palace to a temple-garden thing and pull in the radiance. the kids are on her like starfish to whalefall, if the whale was still alive, just tied down.

their eyes stay blue, but new pearls form about their filaments, a gleaming golden-orange.

also the pale king has to do a lot of manual labor because the kids passively leech from their environment and the regular bugs can't stand that without massive health issues

what if the pale king's magic genetics were like, weaksauce and every single one of the vessels came out looking like the white lady. you think he could follow through in that universe? he goes down to the abyss prepared for silent little amalgamates and instead a sea of shining blue greets him, starshine on more than midnight, filigree of delicate filaments swaying as they shift

tiny little roots, adorned with dewdrops dazzling and dark alike as if to say: you have created. though you may have desired to drown, the thirst of mycelia for life is greater than your hunger for lifelessness. you have created. face that which you love dearly, risen from the gentle dark, crafted with care unexpected. you have created.