The Mimic in Monsterland

“And this is why I told you to let me handle recruiting. Save your speeches for crowds and such.” Jaren patted Len’s shoulder as they sat in front of the food cart. Len rolled his eyes and took another bite of the Tusxic meat sandwich. “It was fine, he was going to join either way.”

Jaren took a bite out of his third sandwich. He looked at the sandwich in his hands with a tired expression. “You know, I was a fan of the boar meat at first, but it's starting to wear on me.” His gaze landed on the cook working in the cart who grunted upon hearing the words “Oh come off it. You know I don’t mean anything about your cooking. Bah ya grump.” Jaren’s sentiment didn’t stop him from finishing his meal of course. The two were eating at a food cart that parked itself a couple of minutes away from the guildhall, near the entrance to Academy Three. There was one parked outside the guildhall, but they both agreed this cook was much better. And discreet.

Most businesses around would practically beg for both his and Jaren’s endorsements. Boost their numbers using the duo’s fame. Len hated that kind of attention and, while Jaren liked the adoration, he wasn’t interested in his name being plastered against every food cart or tavern they happened to be in.

The older gentleman who ran this cart, a human with a fox tail, wasn’t interested in all the grandeur that might come from getting the endorsement of two council members. He just served good cheap food to customers. He gave the school kids that came by some free servings pretty often as well. He had Len’s respect.

“It’s this or the moose. That raid didn’t have any other decent meat, on account of the undead contaminated almost half of it.” Len said, responding to Jaren’s comment and tucking into the food once more.

“Blasted undead bastards. First One’s above, I will give you anything if the next raid boss is a large juicy bird.” Jaren clapped his hands together in faux prayer.

“Really now, when did you become so devout?”

“When it's been over four raids since I’ve had any decent poultry, that's when.” Jaren answered. Len scoffed at his friend. “Sure.”

Len finished his food and took a drink from his glass of water. Jaren finished around the same time turning back to the old cook and ordering another two sandwiches to-go. The cook wrapped up the order in cloth. They paid the cook and walked away from the cart.

Len spoke with Jaren in a hushed tone as they made their way back to the guildhall. “So, what's your thoughts on his abilities?”

Jaren didn’t make any gestures, matching Len’s low energy. “I was worried for a moment. When I saw the feline eyes and claws, I figured the reason you didn’t say anything was because of my past. Damned cats. But aye, you were right. That’s not something I’ve ever even dreamed of bein’ possible. Even when I read Fennel’s report, I thought the boy just wasn’t seeing properly. Didn’t blame him, it was a gnarly battle by Laurel standards.” Jaren shook his head.

“That cat form is new to me. He didn’t have that before I left.” Len replied.

“But his form really did change.” Jaren said in disbelief. “His fighting style and power flipped instantly. Unbelievable. What’s his stat spread look like?”

It was Len’s turn to shake his head before responding. “I’ll leave that as another surprise for you. You’re alright with training him?”

Jaren turned to his walking companion. “You’d have to throw me from the top of the Capitol Building to stop me. Those powers are far too titillating to ignore.” A devilish grin grew on the man’s face.

Len knew that look. Jaren enjoyed training fighters even more than Len. Especially ones with interesting and unique powers. It's why he picked up Fennel so quickly. But the man was much more…assertive in his methods.

Many students looking to share in the glory of Jaren’s fourth legion as squad captains couldn’t make it a week under his guidance. However Len wasn’t worried about Liam. The boy would manage well enough. Jaren’s evil smile hadn’t faded, a warped giggle spawned from his throat. I hope Liam can handle it.

Jaren returned to his earlier demeanor before speaking. “Quick question. Len, why did you not teach him an ounce of Aura control? He was leaking like a wine barrel with seven holes at the bottom during that scrap. Especially when his form changed.”

Len nodded. “Trust me, I noticed it too. But he has a remarkable amount as is. And there is something strange about it. Whenever you train with him next, focus on examining his Mental Aura when he changes form and tell me your thoughts.”

“Sure, I can. But that definitely sounds more like a job for birdbrain. Has she settled in yet?”

Len sighed and rubbed his forehead. “She’s been setting all of her things up since before the raid. But now she keeps arguing and pestering the crafters whenever they get too close to the lab. I told her to wait at least until they finished the ground floor. But no. She gets in a fight nearly everyday with them. And besides, that sort of thing doesn’t interest her.”

Jaren laughed at his friend’s wearied expression. “Hey that’s what you get. You signed her on when she agreed to pony up half the cost of the guildhall.”

“I know. I know. We wouldn’t have even got the location without her assistance. She’s just so.”

“Whee whoo.” Jaren whistled the tune while spinning a finger in circles next to his head.

“But enough about her. How bout you give me a rundown on his other forms.” Jaren said.

Len did just that as the two walked on the road. He told him about the other forms that were at Liam’s disposal. And about their separate styles of fighting that Len had taught him Liam. Len could see the half-elf’s brain cooking up some training menus while he listened; his dastardly grin reappearing.

Not long after Len finished his description of Liam’s forms, did the two make it to the street in front of the guild. It was sometime past noon by now.

Daila was standing by the door. The two exchanged a confused look and then walked up to the woman. “What happened? Is our guest still inside?” Jaren said while handing one of the wrapped sandwiches to her.

“Thank you.” Daila said, accepting the food. “And Liam was captured.”

——

Fennel rubbed his ankles. “None of them could have been close huh.” He just finished his last round of deliveries in the Residential District and was making his way to the Barracks Gate.

He didn’t share many words with the families. He just gave them the invoices. Each family responded differently. Some tried to offer him refreshments, others didn’t say a word and just accepted the paper before shutting the door in his face. However, that didn’t bother him much. Grieving is different between families. And he’d gotten somewhat used to the less amiable practices. It was his fifth time making these deliveries. Only one of the deliveries today truly got under his skin.

His mind kept coming back to the final invoice he gave out.

One of the fallen was from the upper section, where the wealthier citizens lived. Fennel knew this part of the city well. The Blines household worked tooth-and-nail to get there, between their talented smiths and hardworking soldiers. The Blines were still new to this world though. Fennel was maybe six when his family moved to the upper city estate.

One of the fallen was from the Ciervol household. Longtime members of the Laurel elite. Fennel had to sit in an ostentatious meeting room for an hour, waiting for an immediate family member.

Fennel was peeking through a window when a Ciervol man sauntered into the room. A servant on either side. Fennel wasn’t sure who the man was. Aside from Grenna, his fallen teammate, he only knew of the Ciervol Patriarch, Crenis Ciervol. Crenis was head lieutenant of the Second Legion, a proud elf, absolutely fierce with a bow. Fennel had been tasked with assisting them a few raids back and saw the man on the battlefield. He even commended Fennel’s squad. It was probably due to Grenna being his relative. But this man didn’t even remotely have the scent of strength about him that Grenna and Crenis held.

The man greeted Fennel and offered him some refreshments. Fennel tried to be cordial in his negative response, but the man wouldn’t have it, insisting Fennel try some.

They sat at the table in the meeting room. The man then focused primarily on trying to poach Fennel from the Fourth Legion. The garish deer-eyed elf attempted to persuade him to join Rickard’s Second Legion, all the while complaining about how his daughter would probably be alive if she had. How can you speak so heartlessly about your kin? A daughter no less. And the Second Legion took the worst of the raid, losing over a thousand troops.

Fennel had to swallow the words and bile came out that almost came out. Fennel of course wouldn’t leave Jaren’s Legion. He enjoyed being a part of the Fourth. He couldn’t imagine abandoning those he trained and fought with.

Fennel recalled all of his high class manner etiquette, forced upon him by his mother when they moved up to the upper section. Giving the Ciervol man some excuse he couldn’t care less to remember, he declined the man’s pleas.

He shook his head, trying to purge the uncomfortable feeling. A guard by the gate snickered for a second. These blasted floppy ears. He nodded at the guard, trying to play off the interaction. The guard nodded back, poorly hiding the grin on his face.

His walk through the Barracks was a silent one. A normal occurrence the first few days after a raid. Training was postponed for three days.

After thirty minutes of walking, he made it to the Fourth’s Squad Camp. There was some life here. The Fourth pride themselves on their work ethic and training regiment, some squads ignored the postponement period. Jaren actually didn’t like it. Jaren understood the value of rest after battle, for both the body and the soul. But he said if they wanted to train, it was their prerogative.

Fennel made his way to his squad hall. He heard the sounds of people murmuring. A complaint or two being thrown around. He couldn’t blame them. He was late. That pompous jackass held me longer than I thought.

Butterflies entered his stomach as he put his hand on the door. Here we go.

Every eye in the room centered on him as walked in. He suppressed a shudder, making his way to the center of the squadhall. He stood in front of them and saluted. They returned the greeting. Fennel blanked for a second under their combined gaze. Umm. What was here for again? His eyes scanned the room, his squad wore a spectrum of different expressions. Some were expectant, others annoyed. Fennel’s vision eventually fell upon some white feathers. Gloria gave him a reassuring smile. Invoices!

He cleared his throat and spoke.

“Thank you everyone for coming in today. I have everybody's invoice here.” He waved the papers in his hand. “Come and get yours when I call your name. You may leave right after. Go get some more rest. We will get back to training tomorrow. We will be getting new members sometime next week as well. First, Zaner Heaver.”

Fennel went through eight names. A few mumbled something about it not being enough, but the majority were happy with their numbers. The last among the pile was Gloria’s invoice, which Fennel might have put there purposefully.

She had the highest amount out of everyone present aside from Fennel. But she deserved each coin. Her support was vital to the team. He handed the invoice to her. She smiled at him again, receiving it. It made his heart skip.

He coughed, trying to hide the blood heading for his cheeks. “Thanks again Gloria. Your help was tremendous out there.” She gave him a wry smile and cocked her eyebrow. She placed her hand on his shoulder. Her warmth shooing the nervousness away.

“Hey boss! Can I ask you something?!” Lukans voice shattered the peaceful moment. The two separated before the boy with the archer with oversized brown eyes walked back in the room.

“Yes Lukans, what is it?”

“Nothing terribly important, just wondering why you decided to give us these a day late.”

“Bureaucratic Bullcrap.” Fennel responded before sighing. Gloria chortled at his side. “If you ever make it to squad captain, you’ll understand the pain.”

Lukans nodded at the answer. “Any idea who the new recruits will be?”

Fennel shook his head. “Nope. Going to meet up with Jaren and Daila in the Academy Section now. Might learn something about it.”