The Mimic in Monsterland

I crashed face first and fully clothed into my bed. My body ached, my head pounded, Hell my teeth hurt. I rolled on to my back with a groan and stared into the ceiling, not a single thought entering my mind. Well aside from the obvious Ow, this body part hurts or the occasional Why did I come to this stupid city flies by. At least until fatigue won out, and I went out like a light that was ceremoniously thrown at a brick wall.

I’ve spent the majority of my time last week training with Jaren. Morning, noon, and night. His boisterous charm has long since faded. Now I can only see the man as a brutal exercise tyrant, bent on the complete annihilation of both my mind and body.

Len was right about one thing. I didn’t have to do burpees solely in Ursa form. Nope, Jarened switched it up. They were now the warm up for every single damn form. Truth be told, it was much easier in all the other forms, especially Gremlin, less weight I guess. But it's the principle, damn it. I would never voice the fact that it did a great job in loosening me up. Never.

The worst part of it all was that no matter how broken and beaten I felt after a day with him, I woke up feeling great. Mrs. Warbler would always have a spectacular meal prepared for me when I got back. Which made me feel all the worse when I just shoved it down my gullet without so much as three bites and a mumbled thanks. She said she didn’t mind. “Growing boys need nourishment.” With that and a full night’s rest, the mimic gene’s natural healing removed all the soreness and aches by the next morning.

I tried to make a break for it two days ago. Actually go out and explore the city like I had planned to before the rain. I hopped on to the roof of the clothes shop. A chilly morning wind blew through my Apis grown mutton chops. The feeling of freedom and sense of adventure burned in my chest. And right as I managed to get about two buildings away, Jaren’s giant hand grabbed me by the scruff of my shirt. “Nice try, kid.” I could only hang my head in defeat.

He claimed that he had predicted my escape attempt the night before and waited for me in the morning. Something about how he could see it in my eyes. It sounded like nothing but horse crap, yet results prove otherwise. He said if I was so eager to run around and climb, that would be the day's training. He made me run on every single freaking building in the Merchant District five times. No breaks. I threw up. Twice. And learned a valuable lesson that most of the citizenry really don’t appreciate it when someone stomps along their roof. Makes a terrible racket, apparently.

But in a screwed up way, I did get my wish. The District was about the size of a dozen city blocks back on earth. Not nearly as well organized, though. It wasn’t an orderly grid based design, but rather a more organic layout that weaved itself around the natural landmarks of trees and large boulders. There were even a couple of quaint rivers and creeks that flowed through the district. A very welcome find after I puked the first time.

One district, officially (and devastatingly) explored.

Jaren’s guidance wasn’t all pain and agony, though. He gave me some great insights on how I could and probably should fight when a part of the legion. How Ursa should be my go to form for the bulk of a raid. At least at the start.

And in a surprising turn of events, he advised Gremlin to be the secondary. The form’s innate skill with weapons was the driving factor. “For early level guys like you, it's easy to get overwhelmed when fighting claw to claw with the monsters. You’ll get swept up in the battle and start to fight at their pace, not your own. Weapons help in disengaging with them, letting someone else step in if you need it. Plus, it turns you into a right bloody mess.” He even gave me a spear. Nothing fancy from what I could tell, which admittedly isn’t a lot in the first place. He said it was a standard issue for his Legion. He told me to practice with it a lot, and to not worry about damaging it or anything. “Plenty more at the Barracks. And if I’m not mistaken, there are a couple of Spearman in your squad. So if nothing, you can ask for tips.”

Len bothered us during that training session. I took the chance to ask him about my sword, to which he spouted off some dumb cliché about patience being a virtue and dipped out. So no news on that front.

I kicked off my boots, then turned back over on my stomach, snuggling deeper into the sheets. I closed my heavy eyelids, waiting for sleep to take me as quickly as it had the whole of last week. However, Jaren’s words hung in my head. “My squad.” I said, into the basement bedroom. My body begged me for slumber, but my mind had other thoughts it wanted to focus on.

Tomorrow was the day I was going to be introduced to my raid squad. Well, Fennel’s squad, that is. Jaren and Daila both sat me down a few times last week and gave me a few lessons in the art of squad fighting. For which I was immensely thankful for, but nervousness still danced in my gut. Theory was great and all, but putting it into action is a different beast entirely.

Furthermore, this wasn’t studying for some simple test that boiled down to passing or failing and then moving on to the next one. No, failure came with overwhelming cost. The lives and wellbeing of those around me. One misstep, one failed attack, one weak block, one moment of hesitation…each of these could and, more than likely, would have dire consequences for those in and around my squad. I already saw it once.

Pressure bore down on my chest.

“Stop worrying about it already!” Tutor chimed in, giving me a start. She hadn’t spoken to me at all in the last week, but it felt even longer.

I flipped on my side and covered my head with the blanket. “Shut up. Can’t you see I’m trying to sleep?”

“All I see is a quivering mess of a man. Someone who is so wracked with worry and doubt that piss is going to fill his trousers the second he steps foot on the battleground.”

Fury bloomed in my chest as I ripped the blanket off my body. I forced the desire to shout back at her down. I didn’t want to disturb Mrs. Warbler. “Go to hell.” I said through gritted teeth.

She didn’t answer immediately, I only heard her sigh. “Damn it.” She mumbled. “That… That’s not what I meant to say. Ugh, why is this so difficult?”

Cuz you're a massive bitch. And a shitty tutorial. And an asshole.

She took a deep breath. “Liam. What I’m trying to say is, you need to stop doubting yourself. This world is unkind to the indecisive. Especially on the battlefield. When you falter, when you hesitate, people die. You’ll die. But…”

“Yeah, I figured that out already.” I spat back, interrupting her hackneyed speech.

“But! You aren’t powerless. You are so much more than that, and you don’t seem to see it or understand it. And I can’t for the life of me comprehend why. It’s maddening to watch you crumble the second real crap goes down.”

“Well, I’m sorry for boring you.” I said with venom.

She didn't respond. An oppressive silence hung in the air for a couple of minutes.

“It’s so heavy.” The words just came out of my mouth without thought. “I’m about to join something. A group of people fighting just like me. People who have been training and fighting for the majority of their lives. People I will sweat with, fight with, bleed with. And my actions, or the inaction I’m prone to, might get them killed. And that’s just heavy, and I don’t know how to lighten it.”

“Then get stronger. That’s the only solution. Strong enough to carry it. Because it's not going to get lighter. Remember, this is the path you chose. So do it right.”

I tried to respond, but my vision drifted. She said something else, but my fading consciousness prevented me from hearing it. I fell asleep.

 

Sunlight warmed my face as I walked along the stone road of the Academy District, arms crossed. My face twitched in frustration. “Get stronger. Wonderful advice. Just spectacular. Asshole.” I spit on the ground. Last night’s fruitless conversation swirled around my head.

“Ahem.“ My guide cleared her throat.

“Sorry Daila. Rough night.”

“Mhmm. I believe it. Your eyes looked baggy and slightly red, indicating a lack of or restless sleep.” She kept her eyes focused on the road while she spoke.

“Umm. Yeah.”

“But that is normal for new recruits. Especially with the task your squad has. I would hate to be in your position, considering it's your first raid.”

I tilted my head. “What do you mean? What task?”

Daila looked at me for a moment. “Jaren and Len didn’t tell you?”

I shook my head.

“Then it is not my place to say.” She turned her head back to the road. “They will tell you when the time is right. But for now, make training your sole focus. I need not remind you that you are far behind the others in terms of teamwork and group strategy.“

“I know, Daila.”

She stiffened. “Please refer to me as Lt. Underbrush whilst on duty, private Foster. Only at the guild may you refer to my given name. I am your superior in the Legion.”

“Yes Ma’am.” I grabbed my shoulder, mimicking the Laurelhaven salute perfectly.

“Good. Fennel will give your squad assignment upon arrival.”

I scratched my head. “Assignment. That means my role in the squad, right? Like frontline tank or support.”

“Yes. Glad to see you were paying attention.” Daila’s nose twitched. “There may be hope yet.”

I decided now was a good time to get some specifics on the squad I’m joining. I tried asking Jaren, but he wouldn’t tell me anything. Said nothing was final yet.

“So, how many people are in the squad?”

“Including you, thirteen. It's on the smaller side, but that is for the best. At least in your case.”

Thirteen people. That was a bit bigger and somehow simultaneously smaller than I imagined. When I hear the word squad, I tend to think like six or seven people, yet when I think about the large scale conflict of the raids, I can’t help but think thirteen is too few.

“What’s the average?”

“Twenty for our legion. But we are outliers compared to the other legions. They are typically larger. The Second uses a platoon of fifty soldiers. The Third and First each deploy thirty.”

“Uh huh. Something tells me we happen to be the smallest Legion as well.”

“Yes. We have 4412 soldiers.”

Of course, she knows the exact number. “And the other legions.”

“Probably five thousand or more. It’s not my business to know. The Second probably has seven thousand or more. But that’s not pertinent to you. You need to concentrate on your squad and it alone.”

“Roger.” I replied.

“What?”

I sighed. “Nothing.”

It wasn’t much longer until we arrived in front of the Barracks Gate. The large roots that made up this gate only had one guard on this side. He made eye contact with Daila and nodded, walking through the gate.

This district was much different from the others. Huge massive buildings lined the rough cobblestone street which was twice the width of the streets in the other districts. The buildings reminded me of hangars on military bases back on earth. Except they were made with stone bricks as opposed to metal siding. Doubt there are any planes in those. Soldiers lined up outside the buildings, most in the midst of grueling training sessions from the look of it.

Daila and I walked for a good twenty minutes until we stopped in front of one of the large buildings. She walked up to the side of the building where a door was and stood next to it.

She pointed at the door with her head. “Go on.”

I swallowed once and pushed the door open.