The Mimic in Monsterland

My body jerked awake. “Where am I?” I gripped the bark under my hands. My mind was hazy and began to fill with questions. How did I get here? Why is my back aching?

Burnt orange sunlight danced through the branches as I tried to recall why I was 30 feet in the air on a tree branch. An icy breeze flowed, causing me to shiver. It was sunset already. But how?

I worked back through what happened today in my head. I woke up and Len was gone. He left me some notes and workout instructions. I ignored them and started running through the trees in the morning. Trees. A flash of black fur raced into my mind’s eye.

“The cat!” I blurted out. Panic rose in my chest and my breath quickened. Was it still out there? I tried moving around to find it, but my body was feeling sluggish and didn’t want to move. Every inch felt sore. The battle, if you can call it that, slowly came back to me. I tried fighting the cat in the trees and when I thought I finally got a good hit in, it countered and launched me down. This branch caught me. I rubbed its bark. “Good branch.” The words came out in more of a grunt.

I don’t think the feline was so lucky. I gazed down to where the panther’s body was. Only to see empty space. The dark body was no longer laying at the base of the tree. Fear crawled up my back. It survived that fall. I need to get out of this tree.

It was a challenge getting down. Apis form ran out long ago and my body hurt like hell. My back especially. That blow from the panther must have done some incredible damage. I shuddered when I thought about what it would have been like if it had proper leverage. It probably would have snapped my spine like a twig. My health was sitting at 30%.

I got down the tree after a stumble or two and limped over to where the monster’s body laid earlier. All that remained of the cat was a dark spot in the grass. I knelt down and touched it. It was mostly dried blood. I smelled my finger and was immediately accosted by that signature thick iron smell. “Yep, that's blood.” I searched around to see if I could find a trail.

After a few minutes of combing through the grass, I couldn't find any traces of it. What could that mean? “Was it picked up by a bigger predator?” Voicing my thoughts.

I shook my head at that idea. “Nah it probably would have been eaten right here. And would have left more traces. Did it staunch the bleeding somehow? That seems more plausible. Probably an ability or just plain old high constitution. I wish I could have copied it.”

I cursed myself for not at least trying to mimic it. “Whatever. But that means it is still out there.” As the words left my mouth, a shiver took my whole body. I guess the fear hadn’t quite left my body. To be fair, I almost died, again. One would think I would get over that by now. I took one step, but pain shot through my back. I stopped myself and went into log form.

I didn’t immediately leave the form as I usually do when I healed. I stayed in the form mostly to calm down. The peace that accompanied the form welled up. I didn’t know where it came from but it was welcome right now. The shaken status was no longer in the HUD, yet I swore I could still feel its effects. Like at any moment, the blur of black death would swing by and finish the job. A shudder wracked my wooden body.

Eventually an unwitting squirrel clambered on top of my bark. The poor thing was instantaneously shoved into my mouth. There wasn't an ounce of willpower inside me. My instincts took over. And with a few small crunches, the critter was gone. I turned the form off and walked back to the cave in the dark. The sun went down at some point and the Kniyan moon was nowhere in sight. But I could see fine with the Gremlin’s Darksight ability, getting back to camp wasn't a problem. At least physically. I flinched at pretty much every noise in the area, shifting into log and stone form every time.

My stomach grumbled when I got back to camp, but I had no wish to go back out and look for food. The tree form meditation helped lighten some of fear but today's encounter laid heavily on my heart. I don’t know if it's an aftereffect of the shaken condition or just me. Either way, I wanted no more excitement. We kept a small stockpile of nuts and berries that grew in the Forest so I figured they would suffice for dinner tonight.

I munched on the food for a while, but gave up after a handful or too. My new set of teeth made eating anything other than meat a hassle. The nuts and fruit get stuck in the crevices. Floss would be nice right now. Scratch that, these teeth would slice right through it. Toothpicks. That's what I need.

Following my pathetic dinner, I lied down on my bedroll and shut my eyes. But as soon as he darkness surrounded me, all I could see were those haunting green eyes. Thoughts of the cat monster rushed through my mind. The paralyzing fear it put me under, the slash on my shoulder, the slam on my back. Heat coursed through my skin as the details of today’s feud assaulted my mind, causing me to sweat profusely. I opened my eyes and rolled away from my bedroll. My breath shallowed and quickened. Before the hyperventilation fully heightened, I got up and walked deeper into the cave, to its deepest part and turned back into a log.

—

Unblinking eyes stared into the reddish orange sky. Len recognized them. They belonged to one of the soldiers that was too terrified to look at him this morning. Len sighed.

The kid was a recent graduate, which meant he was barely 18. And the battlefield was filled with eyes like his. Eyes that would never perceive the beauty that was the evening sky they so blatantly starred at. Eyes of the fallen. He looked at the rest of the poor boy's body; half of his torso was missing, ripped away by the claws of the boss Beruang. This Beruang was a head above the rest and twice as deadly.

The raid was particularly bloody this time around. Even if they didn’t have any flying monsters to worry about, the ground ones gave enough of a fight. The scouts' reports had been accurate. The raid consisted of mostly of beast types, sprinkled with reptiles. A common mixing in The Forest.

Len kicked face of fallen monster, if he had gotten to the boss a half step quicker he might have been able to save the kid and more. He sighed and looked over to the boss’s corpse. Its fur was singed black from head to toe, but that’s not what felled it. Its demise came from the massive tree root jutting out of its chest.

Len took a deep breath. He wasn’t injured or even tired, at least not physically. This was a lower tier raid, maybe a 5 or 6 and never posed a threat to him. No, he was tired of the raids themselves. The nearly senseless death of those around him. Hell, of the world itself and the crap it brought with it. Though he never showed it, he couldn't and wouldn't let anyone see the hate that boiled under the surface. He loathed the sight of the bodies, young and old, covering the ground.

Len was among the eldest of the people on Kniyas. Due in part to the intrinsic strength of his gene and the effort he spent his whole life cultivating that power. That’s what it took to live a long life on Kniyas. And he learned one thing in his 48 years on Kniyas: he loved life.

The sensation of waking up and seeing the sun rise, watching it set across the horizon, sharing good food and thrilling tales with friends, feeling the tender touch of a loved one. Pulling dumb pranks on people, getting them riled up. Len loved it all. But they were luxuries few could afford to indulge.

Life on Kniyas was filled with more days like today, than joy-filled ones. These raids happened at least once every moon or so. Laurelhaven was guaranteed a respite for the next seven days. But after that they needed to be on alert.

He wasn’t sure about the world Liam spoke about but he didn’t think the boy was lying, this Hearth or whatever it was called. Len had been fighting for so long that hearing of a place so peaceful felt like pure fantasy. He wondered if that could be possible on Kniyas. Or at least what it would take to create such a place.

He stared off in the direction of the fallen soldier’s lifeless gaze. A grunt woke Len from his reverie. Herman reached down towards a separate Beruang’s body and ripped up one of his handaxes that was lodged in the beast’s side. The dwarf’s head swiveled back and forth, looking for something. “This is why I feckin’ hate throwing the damned things. Always lose ‘em.”

Len already knew where the little wolf’s ax had flown. It was stuck in the jaw of one of the Salamandras that were in the third wave. Herman had thrown it to stop the creature from spewing another ball of venomous goo at our left flank. He always complains about throwing them after battle but will never hesitate if it means saving lives. Herman was crass but a good man nonetheless. And extremely handy with those axes.

Len walked over to the slimy lizard body that held the ax and with his flames, pulled it out of the monster’s cheek. After burning away any and all contaminants from the weapon, Len grabbed the dimension pouch that hung from his belt.

On the outside it looked about large enough to carry three or four days worth of food, but was much bigger on the inside. Made from the stomach of an abyss touch pig-like monster that Len ran into years ago. A Swinoct. The creature could easily eat its own weight 80 times over if left to its own devices. They weren’t powerful monsters, barely a Tier 4, but what they lacked in strength they made up in scarcity. They hid and scavenged among the mountains to the North, around Tiamantis. Maybe two or three are seen in a year.

Putting Herman’s ax in his bag, Len snickered. He could use this to mess with the disgruntled dwarf later. He walked towards the grumbling. “Herman, tell the burn squad they don’t need to come out today.” Herman looked at him and nodded. “Aye, them boys could use a breather. It's been hairy these last few times, leaving them plenty overworked. They’ll appreciate a break.” Under his breath he added. “Now I’m certainly not getting me ax back.”

He understood the sentiment of the burners, being one himself in his younger years. It’s not that torching the monsters is especially difficult; they're already dead and can't do much to stop you. It was burning the fallen comrades that drained one’s psyche. Those you grew up with, trained with, fought with. Their very existence smoldering into nothingness. And the stench.

Len nodded once and Herman shouted, gathering his remaining lieutenants and giving the orders to search for wounded and scrounge for any valuable monster parts, then return to the garrison in time for roll call. Len closed his eyes and meditated while waiting for the hundreds of troops to leave the vicinity.

After an hour or two, all that was left on the battlefield were corpses and himself. Len stood up and brushed off his clothes. He inhaled a deep breath. Pillars of flames sprouted around Len, first dozens, then hundreds. He then forced the flames to converge on his body. Every flame packed together closer and closer, coiling around Len, ready to burst out at any moment. Once the last flame joined, Len released the energy all at once.

The fire rushed forth throughout the battlefield as if hell itself opened up, scorching and incinerating each and every body that laid on that ground. No matter the corpse, as soon as the heatwave touched skin, fur or scale, nothing remained but ash and dust.

After Len finished, crouched down attempting to catch his breath. “First ones above, I’m gonna sleep great tonight.” He lied. He never got decent sleep after performing these duties. But it was necessary. The corpses would only attract eager monsters to the city gates. He shut his eyes and bowed.

“Well if nothing else, I shouldn’t have to deal with Lirae today.” He pulled Herman’s ax out of his bag and with a wry grin said. “Now how am I going to screw with him?”