The Mimic in Monsterland

Out of all the responsibilities that came along with his job as a squad captain, this had to be the most painstaking. Fennel walked up to the steps of the Capitol building, carrying the Watchers’ notes for his squad’s participation in the raid. The documents that allow for his people to get paid for their valiant effort in the raid. He just had to take them to the first floor and get them approved by a clerk. He would then take the invoices to the rest of his team; and to the family of the fallen members of his squad.

Fennel closed his eyes. He lost 11 members of his team that day. Six frontliners, three rangers, and two supports. They were mostly new additions, recent graduates from the academy, except for Rook. He had been a part of Fennel’s squad upon its creation. He closed his fists. He was frustrated with himself for not knowing them better. He opened his eyes and looked down at the now slightly crumpled paper in his hand. The only proof of their contribution.

Fennel shook his head. He needed to stop thinking about it. They died doing their duty, protecting the innocent. They deserved to be honored and celebrated.

He looked up and saw that the line had moved.

An hour passed by.

Fennel stretched his back and arms. This is brutal. The process wasn’t complicated. You go up to the clerk, get your papers stamped and get out. It was rather simple, really. He wondered why then, the lines took so long to move.

Standing in line for hours killed Fennel on the inside. He was never one to be idle. There was so much more he could be doing. He even got here right at the crack of dawn just to hopefully not be too far back in the line. He knew the lines would be bad this time around. After a raid like that one, people really want their compensation.

Yet he was not the only one who had the idea. Seeing as at least a hundred got there at roughly the same time. And others camped out in front of the Capitol overnight. That’s some dedication.

An elf bumped into him, grunting and mumbling about how the line moved. It barely moved. Maybe one step. Fennel took the extra step to appease the rude elf.

Some raucous laughter caught his ear. It sounded very familiar. He swiveled around and twisted his ears trying to find the source. Fennel had to rely on his hearing for this more often than not.

Dwarves weren’t very common in Laurel. His family being one of the few that were permanent residents in this city. Other dwarves roaming the streets were usually merchants from Dendrun or Kailis.

He had gotten used to being the shortest in the room. Or the line in this case. Once he centered in on the person in question, he recognized the voice. It was Jaren. He could see the bald top of the half elf moving towards the entrance. The man waved some papers around in the air. He couldn’t see who he was with but he could tell the man was walking with others.

Probably Daila.

Fennel envied Jaren. He didn’t have to deal with this bureaucratic hellscape. Council members and Legion Colonels got to skip the lines. Of which Jaren was both. Fennel knew there were a lot more headaches and stresses that came with Jaren’s position. But those didn’t matter right now. Fennel had to wait in this line and he didn’t. Lucky bastard.

Thirty more minutes passed.

Fennel almost fell asleep three times. But the terribly rude elf behind him made sure it never happened. Giving him a shove every time. His eyelids started drooping again. Until the alarm bell started ringing. One ring…

Tension flooded the room as each person waited in bated breath. The number of rings per five seconds signified different situations. One ring meant a local problem in the Capitol Building. Two rings was for a problem in the city itself. Normally crime related.

But the reason everyone in the room went stiff was if three rings went off. That meant a raid. The five seconds felt like minutes, but only the single ring went off. A collective sigh left the mouths of all who were in the building.

Fennel and everyone there knew another raid wouldn’t happen this soon, but the alarm didn’t go off very often. Almost never really, aside for raids. Fennel wasn’t sure he could recall a time the single ring alarm went off.

He shrugged and felt another shove from the elf behind him.

“Really?”

Mumbling was the answer Fennel received.

Another hour went by.

Fennel was ready to rip his hair out. There was no reason it should be taking this long. It’s a stamp, how freaking hard is it to stamp some papers? Fennel’s nerves were being strained. It didn’t help that the alarm bell was still going off. The constant ring grating his more sensitive ears.

Whatever problem is going on, it certainly has them running around in circles. In the last hour, Fennel saw a number of guards running in and out of the door leading to the stairs.

He turned back to the line and saw that he wasn’t too far away from the end now. Just five more people in front of him. But before he could relish in that fact. Somebody barreled into him, knocking him over. I swear if it’s that stupid elf, I’m going to roundhouse kick him in the shins.

He looked up and didn’t see the elf. No, it was a monkey gene wielder. The man muttered “Sorry.” He had brown hair along the sides of his face. A face which looked vaguely familiar.

“It’s alright.” Fennel said, trying to get a better look at the guy. But the man turned and started rushing away. Who is he? Fennel sniffed the air. The man reeked of dried monster blood. Feline eyes flashed in his mind’s eye and he could almost feel claws at his neck. It was the man from the raid, the one whom Lirae tied up.

Why does he have a tail now? And how? Is he the reason for the alarm?

Fennel saw the line move again. He was torn. Should he stay in line? He was almost there. Or should he chase after the strange gene-shifting, possibly feral, man that may be a fugitive who also has ties to the Leonard Ainsworth?

Fennel looked back at the front desk. And then back at the tail rushing through the crowd. “Ugh fine. Wait a second!” Fennel pushed his way through the crowd, following after the mystery man. They got closer and closer to the entrance. Fennel heard a loud shout. “HALT!” And as he made it outside of the entrance, he found the man. Being stopped by a rather large bearded guard with a spear.

“Who are you and why do you have that armor?”

Fennel looked at the monkey-tailed teen. He was wearing different armor than he wore yesterday. Some that clearly didn’t fit him. How do you walk in pants that tight? Fennel instinctively shifted his legs, pulling his pants a little.

“I said tell me why you have that armor. That’s guard captain Jessou’s armor. I just cleaned it yesterday. I recognize the sigil.”

The tailed man tilted his head in confusion and looked down at the outfit. Searching for something. Does he not know about the rank sigil etched into the fabric of the armor?

“Umm, I was borrowing it…” said the tailed man with a weak smile.

The spear inched closer to the young guy.

“Woah woah, I think this is just a misunderstanding.”

“No, I think you’re the feral everyone has been searching for for the last two hours.”

Some other guards started to surround the guy. Fennel wasn’t sure what he should do. The guy saved his team from a worst case scenario in the raid, but there were rules about ferals. But why did this one know who Leonard was?

After a moment, Fennel took a step forward. But someone laid a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and saw a head of white hair tied in an incredibly tight bun making her way to the guards.

She walked right up to the man in the center and smacked the back of his head. It was so loud that Fennel flinched.

“Did you think you would get away with taking the wrong armor? Again? This is the third time this week, you dolt.”

Fennel didn’t know what to think of the current situation. He’d never seen Daila act like this to anyone except for Jaren.

After another hearty smack, she brought her mouth right to his ear and whispered something. But then continued giving the monkey man a tongue lashing for a solid three minutes or so.

The man just dropped his head in shame. Maybe I was wrong?

After Daila finished berating him, she turned to the guard who started the interrogation.

“I’m terribly sorry for my subordinate’s stupidity. We will be leaving now.” She gave him another smack on the back of his head.

“Not yet. Let me check with…” The guard’s face contorted in pain. Fennel felt the pressure in the air. Daila’s aura leaked out, filled with threat and malice. Fennel saw the serious look on her face. The guard shut up and put his spear down. Daila released the aura.

“I will have the armor returned to you this afternoon.” She turned toward Fennel.

“Fennel come. Jaren has scheduled a last minute meeting of the squad captains.”

“But…” Fennel pointed back at the tree. “The line.”

“Now Fennel.”

“Yes ma'am.”