The Mimic in Monsterland

“But I intend on finding out.” She slithered out of my grasp and went back to grabbing different tools.

“Wait wait wait. Wait just a second. What do you mean, you don’t know? And why do you need all of those tools?”

Her head spun at me while she grabbed something else. Which gave me a mini panic attack. “It means just that. I do not know. There has never been a case like yours. Ever. Not a single family record contains any information about your gene.”

She stopped talking and squirmed out of elation, pumping her fist.

“And I get to be the one to study it. Hurray! Those bastards will feel pretty stupid when I show them my findings. Heh.” She said with a wry smile.

“Okay, sure. That’s fine. But it still doesn’t answer my question about the gadgets.”

Rita lowered the, well I didn’t know what was in her hands. Like a mix between a knife and a syringe. She put the knifinge down and turned back to me. Her head tilted to the side. “These are for testing different aspects of your gene. This is to take some more precise readings about your blood, its heat retention and viscosity.” She held the knifinge up again, before switching to a new tool. Which looked like a small spring loaded bear trap that was almost closed. “And this one will measure your bite force. Your teeth seem to be the trope, but we need much more data about them. Actually, now that I think about it. Is that your only trope?” She paused and turned back to me. Her gaze ran over my whole body, creeping me the hell out. “Strip. Right now.”

I shook my head. “No. I can tell you, without a shadow of a doubt, that the teeth are the only trope.”

“But are you positive? Sometimes they end up in hard to reach places.”

“Yes, I’m positive. I have bathed myself plenty of times. No tropes in weird places.” Well sort of. I could tell her about the forms, but that might cause her head to explode. She shrugged her shoulders and shuffled a few more papers around a table, clearing space for more tools.

My eyes wandered back over the gadgets and gizmos. “Heat retention? Bite force?” I half-spoke in disbelief. Yeah, I can’t do this.

“Stop. No. I’m not taking part in any kooky bullshit like this. I’m leaving. You got your readings. I’m done.” I turned around and made a beeline straight for the stairs.

She dropped the current torture implement in her hands and ran over to me, grabbing the hem of my shirt.

“No. No you can’t go. There is so much to record, to analyze, to discover. I don’t even have a measurement of your hair growth yet.” She pulled a pair of scissors out of her lab coat’s pocket with her free hand. Scissors that had saw teeth along the blades.

“Get off of me.” I tried to shake her off, but her grip held strong. I could have used more force, but I really didn’t want to the ruin comfy clothes Mrs. Warbler gave me. Owe that lady a lot already.

In the middle of prying the mad scientist off my clothes, the door to the lab opened. I heard some footsteps coming down the stairs. I wanted to turn and see who was coming, but the girl apparently remembered her earlier request about stripping. She was dead set on removing my clothes.

“Liam, I see you’ve met our resident gene expert and…” I recognized the voice. It was Len; he entered the room with a small flame floating by his head. He paused in the middle of his sentence. I turned to see his face, while pushing the woman away from my own. He gave me a goofy smile. “Feels a little sweaty in here.” He puffed his shirt. “Should I give you two some space?” He said in jest.

“No! Get this crazy chick off me!”

 

Len helped me wrestle the owl woman away. He told me to round up a few of the chairs that were scattered in the room while he cleared a table. Rita was still buzzing around the room writing new things down on various scraps of paper and gathering other tools. Len’s flames followed behind her, putting the various doodads back on the walls. I don’t think she even noticed.

Once I brought them over and placed them around the cleared table, Len called Rita and told her to sit down.

“Sit, no I can't sit now, way too much to do. Too much to learn.” Rita responded.

“Rita. We talked about this.” Len said to the woman in a slow, methodical tone. And not only that, I felt the air shift around Len and Rita. It reminded me of what Daila did to the guard, just less menacing and more peaceful. Another application of Aura? I guess it doesn’t have to be threatening all the time.

“You’re getting lost in the weeds. Let's focus on the big discoveries first. Hair growth can come later. Now get me up to speed. Is his gene in any of the records?”

The bird girl seemed to calm down significantly. She sat down. “You’re right Len, thank you. The excitement of a brand new never before seen gene got to me.” She composed herself. “No, his gene did not possess a single marker in common in any of the family records.”

Len nodded his head. “I figured that would be the case. Anything else?”

“No, we pretty much just started when you arrived.” Yeah, while I was being sexually harassed.

I cleared my throat, I wanted to ask questions before these two moved forward.

“I really feel like I’m missing some context here. I’ve heard the term family record. But I thought it had to do with being Feral. Like it's some kind of proof of citizenship or ancestry. What does it have to do with monster genes?”

Rita looked over at me and then back to Len. “You didn’t tell him anything?”

Len shook his head. “Nope, it wasn’t important at the time. He needed to learn how to not die. And I wanted him to learn from the best.” He winked at her. “Assume he knows nothing at all. Because he doesn’t.”

She turned back to me, her black discs blinked once. “Family records show more than just a list of the forebears of one’s family. It is a full archive of every gene that has been passed down. Tracing all the way from the First Ones. Also known as The First Generation. But not many use that term any more.”

Len’s used that phrase before and I think I’ve heard others in the city say it too. First Ones.

“And who are these first ones?” I asked.

“They are what their name implies. They were the first of the sentient races to have monster genes. Here.” She got up from her chair and shuffled through some papers that sat on a different table. She grabbed a bigger piece and laid it down in front of me.

It was a map. A map of Kniyas. I recalled the time when Len drew one in the ground for me, but this was much more detailed. Instead of it just being a rectangle split evenly, it showed the true boundaries of each area and illustrations of the landscape. Each area had a black small black square with a name next to it. The names of each Splice Capital.

The two bottom sections, The Beach and The Desert, took up a little less than half of the total landmass of Kniyas. They were covered in sand with some patches of green interspersed between. A lake was drawn near the Desert capital. The Beach had some depictions of palm trees near its capital.

The Forest was the next largest grabbing up maybe thirty percent of the space. The illustrations for it were mostly trees, not surprising. But there was a green flat land that lied between it and the Desert.

The final quarter was shared by The Hills and The Spires. The Spires was by far the smallest region, getting only a sliver of the map at the northern edge of the map.

But something was odd about it. The Spires’ northern boundaries showed more land above them. Drawings of snow capped mountains. When Len first drew the map, I assumed Kniyas was an island. But this shows that there are lands even further north.

I pointed to the unmarked mountain range “What's to the north of the Spires?”

Len answered. “Short answer. No clue, past that boundary you will only find death. Monsters that make the Greater Graveball look like a squirrel reside among those peaks. No one has ever returned from a trip up there.” His timbre became somber for a moment.

My interest piqued upon learning about them though. A part of this world that no one knows. Something worth exploring. “It sounds like a perfect job for an Explorer’s Guild.” I said with a grin.

Len’s face brightened. “Yeah, not quite kid. Maybe one day, but the cold alone would cripple you before the monsters did.”

Rita coughed. Len mouthed sorry to her. She pointed at each of the Capitals on the map one by one.

“Do you know of the Capitals?” I nodded. “Len told me some about them but nothing in depth.”

“Each Capital gets its name from one of the First One’s. Tiamantis was named after Tiamat, a human man who had the Dragon gene.”

“Then we have Dendrun, named after Denn, a male dwarf and wielder of the Beast gene.”

“Next is here, Laurelhaven, named after Laurell, a female elf and holder the Dryad gene.”

“Then we have Vulug Town, named after Vulug, a male orc with the Roc Gene.” My ears perked up at the mention of Roc. Hundred mile an hour winds and blue lightning arcs danced in my memories. I rubbed the back of my head, recalling the intense pain of it being thrown into that tree from the wind pressure alone.

“And finally, Kailis, whose patron is Kaila, a female half-elf with the Leviathan Gene.”

I stared at the map in awe. Learning about the history of Kniyas fascinated me. I was itching to learn more.

“Every monster gene in Kniyas is derived from these five people. And not only that, each one had unbelievable and divine power. Take the Capitol Building here in Laurelhaven. That tree wasn’t naturally grown. That was the result of Laurell’s powers. The Dryad gene held unparalleled command over all flora. And that's just the start.”

I couldn’t help but think about the bitchy green elf. Did she also have the Dryad gene?

“Kaila was said to rise and lower the sea level at will. Denn could make and break earth with ease. Tiamat had complete control over the elements. And my ancestor, Vulug, could change the entire shape of the dunes in The Desert with one blast of wind.”

Rita’s dark eyes shone. She was absolutely ecstatic. This was her passion. Each word and description, filled with more energy than the last.

“And how long ago has it been since they were around?” I asked.

“It has been roughly 40 generations since they walked Kniyas. Some families and races are longer lived so their records are smaller than others. But the longest records go back 40 generations.”

“And each of these records trace back to the First One’s? Like can Len look up his record and see which of the First One’s is his ancestor?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Yes of course. It's a point of pride for most. Len?”

“Tiamat.” he answered simply.

“See.” She said with a smile.

“So where did they get the genes?” I asked. I expected more ardor to follow that question from Rita, but her posture shifted. And some of her energy died down.

“That’s the big question. No one really knows.” She picked the map back up and returned it to the table it was once on. Her mood, still sullen.

I turned to Len. “What’d I say?” I whispered.

He answered in a hushed voice. “That type of question is frowned upon in Kniyas. Some decree from generations ago forbade the questioning of the First One’s powers. You haven’t run into any yet, but the more devout followers take great offense to questions about their Holy First Generation.”

So there is a religion here. Makes sense. But from the sounds of it their deities are long gone. “What's so wrong with asking about them?”

He pointed to Rita, who was organizing. “That’s the exact question she was kicked out of the Laurel Laboratory for asking.”

He sat up and looked back at her. “See, I know she can be a lot to handle. Especially when she has one of those obsessive episodes. But at the end of the day, she shares that same thirst for knowledge and understanding that is central to what we are building. So don’t judge her too harshly. And besides we got more to learn about your gene.”

He stood up and yelled to Rita on the other side of the room.

“Wanna see his other tropes?”

“I knew he had more!”