The Mook Maker

Now we had The Scroll, the name of which I still couldn’t remember, it was a question of putting it somewhere when it could be secured, studied, and eventually, translated. 

 

There might be ways to activate it, to use the arcane power bound within, I was certain of it, almost as if it wanted to be unleashed, but the information it contained, and the answer it could provide, were so far more valuable than anything else. 

 

We were fumbling around in the dark for far too long. 

 

I picked the Viceroy’s palace as a good place to start. 

 

It wasn’t the most secure place, its walls were there mostly as a means of providing privacy for the ruling elite rather than security against outside threats, but unfortunately, it was also the place where all the records had been kept. The castle we controlled was purely a defensive structure, not the administration centre. 

 

Should the Sage need to consult any records, any texts on the subject, any vocabularies, they would all be stored either within the palace, or within the city’s hall of records equivalent, and ease of access would, I presume, speed up the translation greatly. 

 

If there weren’t any treatises on the account of the mystical artefacts, which was most likely considering the lengths the natives, and their dragon gods, went to hide those, providing at least adequate place to work couldn’t hurt.

 

We had only one ‘expect in-house’, too valuable to lose to the ‘Displacer’ portals' mishaps, and difficult to relocate elsewhere. He could work from home. 

 

I expected the content of the scroll would be at least transcribed to the local language, but now I was thinking of it. Maybe some of my girls could try to write it down in English as well. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to give the human wise man a monster girl assistant… 

 

But could my girls write? 

 

They did understand me without any issues, but for the first time, I was wondering whether it was our telepathic link to do the talking even when conversing with ‘Alphas’. With their uncanny ability to grasp the context, they might even learn overnight. I didn’t know. 

 

Our shared connection was undeniable more and more with each passing day, and silent voices were becoming a permanent fixture at the back of my mind as the link with the host had deepened. 

 

It didn’t scare me as much as it should, but was it … normal? What was normal?  

 

The shifting void didn’t give me enough time to ponder that.  

 

The ‘Displacer’ deposited me directly inside the palace’s dusky throne hall. Now the sun began to set, the silk or paper windows barely let any light in, braziers and torches already lit were more a distraction than a help at this fleeting time of day. 

 

I looked up to the ceiling first, almost expecting to see a darkening sky above me, pointless as there were usual wooden beams up there, and thinking that the humans were unlikely to hold meetings there at night. 

 

The sage wasn’t expected to deliver results today by any means either. I just need him to get there and get instructions, and tomorrow, I would take the matters of security to the Viceroy. 

 

Arke was already there. The enormous bat-girl, seated on the throne itself, an upholstered bench which the locals apparently considered the fitting chair for the local ruler, dominated the room with her massive wingspan of seven to eight metres. Her eyes shone with her inner power, something which has become increasingly more common among both newer breeds and ‘evolved’ individuals.

 

However, when the more rifts snapped in existence, bringing in the rest of my retinue, the exasperated male voice spoke in the local language. 

 

The Viceroy. I didn’t expect him to be here. 

 

He was seated on the other bench, away from the prominent position the throne Arke occupied, a place likely intended for someone important to have a seat, but away from notice to convey the lesser rank. If intended for an advisor, or city mayor, I didn’t know, but the Viceroy didn’t sound happy even if he managed the calm, collected expression as ever, even though he flinched occasionally. A tic, perhaps. 

 

“He asks what is the meaning of this, Master,” Arke translated. This time in person, her pet brain-drone wasn’t around. There, however, were looming presences in the corners of the room, beyond the reach of the fire that moved on her mental command. 

 

“My visit?” I said, confused, as the Viceroy would have known I was coming. Arke could have conveyed that to him, easily. 

 

Other of my girls joined in, arriving through the separate rifts, including Kuma, who now bore the precious scroll, carried carefully in her huge hands. The Viceroy doesn’t seem pleased about their presence either. His face twitched again, almost as if he suffered from a crushing migraine. 

 

“Arke wasn’t supposed to sit on your throne, Lord Viceroy.” I said, as calmly as I could, “There was no disrespect intended. I apologise.” 

 

The ‘sorry for intruding’ was, likely, the expected answer, but it was the moot point considering Arke, and his girl, were already encroaching on his property with the intervention in the attempts on his life, and our occupation of the city. 

 

Perhaps it was about the bat-girls’ manners. 

 

I gestured to the girl to get up. She did.

 

The Viceroy said something when the figures in the corner barked out translation, and Arke, now standing, looked somewhat more menacing with her wide leathery wings spread in the air, no longer resting lazily as they were when she had been seated. They were like the shadow covering the portion of the room, but she moved them easily enough out of the way so I could maintain eye contact with the Viceroy. 

 

“He said you were conscripting his men without his permission.” 

 

Arke wrapped one of her wings around her, like it was an oversized sleeve, as she spoke. I glanced at her, and the lord. 

 

“Did I?” I asked, “Ask him who gave the order.” 

 

Rather than the obvious explanation, one which Arke could easily give, I wanted to hear the specifics about the offence, although I knew the Viceroy could easily point a finger at the nearest ‘Displacer’ claiming they whisked his men away, and it would be entirely valid, and truthful answer. 

 

I left the ‘Overseers’ in charge of the villages, after all, and their ‘Alpha’ fancied the palace’s hall so much she even created a ‘brain-bug’ construct so she doesn’t have to leave, it wasn’t hard to guess they run this part. 

 

“Lily did ask for volunteers to assassinate the priestesses as an alternative to the drones,” Arke answered the question, but it was beyond the point now: “Ask him, please.” 

 

There was an exchange between the man, and the mindless translating puppets still stationed in the corner, the ‘brain-bug’ nowhere to be seen. It was probably for the best, considering the tension. 

 

“He says that your scaled alchemist did, Master.” was the translation. There were a few more sentences to followed, 

 

“Scaled alchemist?” 

 

I frowned. Unusual, considering my scaly ones weren’t particularly ecstatic about humans, but I suppose they tried. 

 

“That is what he said, Master.” 

 

“Do we know how to translate the Alpha?” 

 

“I don’t know, Master.” 

 

It was rather strange to refer to Lily as such, but I suppose she, or Kirke, was very close to the term alchemist. If ‘Mutators’ could turn algae into something that allowed ‘Fleshspeakers’ to shape car-sized crabs. What difference would it make from a magical potion? It was creative. 

 

“Did any of your men die, Lord Viceroy?” I asked, carefully. 

 

There was a pause. The man and the translating drone traded a few words. 

 

“He doesn’t know. Two of his guards disappeared after she promised them her mixtures.” 

 

Mixtures? 

 

Lily’s berries were getting out of hand. The Viceroy likely felt this way too, and we were, very clearly, testing his patience. 

 

“Do we know?” 

 

“Yes, Master. Two were taken.” 

 

I recalled the one man from the humans pleading to be blessed. He lived, which means the ‘Fleshspeakers’ could flush the ‘Corruptors’ substances out of his system. The mere possibility that there were another couple of humans entirely immune was promising…

 

Lily, and her narcotic berries, were an issue, but if she, by pure accident, discovered a method to find the humans that suffered no side effects from our power, I couldn’t just punish her. Just give her better guidance…

 

The words interrupted me from pondering about it further. I wouldn't yell at my girl in front of the Viceroy. 

 

“He asks what happened to them, Master.” 

 

 Did we take two of his closest followers for the sake of that assault? 

 

“Do you know the name of the town we had to attack, Arke?”

 

“Seoju.” She replied, and it was clear the Viceroy recognized the name. There was no reason to assume he couldn’t know it, though, even if it wasn’t on the map we retrieved from his library. 

 

“Please translate…” I said, “One of my …” 

 

I paused, considering the fitting word in their vocabulary, then continued: “One of my generals had been captured by the garrison in Seoju…” 

 

Ah, the local names were a bane of me: I hoped I pronounced that correctly. 

 

“I assume that town wasn’t under your authority.” 

 

It was not, he claimed, as far as Arke could tell, which I believed since it wasn’t even on this map. I decided for full disclosure. 

 

“...your men were instrumental in the attempt to resolve this manner in the least violent manner possible, as my alchemist certainly thought, but the priestesses, as well as the garrison, refused to see reason. I had it burned to the ground. The actions of their. priestesses against my people couldn’t be forgiven. Unfortunately, I was told, one of your men perished in the fighting. Other was healed and would be returned here immediately.”

 

 It was possibly the longest sentence I spoke interacting with the humans, and it was a small struggle of its own. It took a while to translate, as the fleshy puppets spat sentence after sentence like the nearly mindless machines.

 

The Viceroy took the explanation - quite frankly one at that - remarkably well. 

 

“Do you know who governs that province? Are you familiar with that land?” 

 

This time, however, he reacted, and I could assume he wasn’t happy. 

 

“He protests against using his men as assassins, Master. They are trained … riders …” My bat-girls said, and she wasn’t enthusiastic about the lord’s reaction either, but her drones dutifully arranged for the translation where I offered: 

 

“You could recruit more men from the city’s populace which would be placed under your direct command as your personal guards. They should be trained by your remaining men and charged with your protection.” 

 

It didn’t cut it, though - I presumed it was because the situation here in Chunnan was as bad as it was, barely any recruits would come in from the mostly suppressed populus, unless I let Lily trade her ‘berries’ until the humans were far too addicted to run without them. 

 

The Viceroy, however, was a local, legitimate ruler. His words had a sway, too. 

 

I wasn’t sure about this, however; I felt I should promise the lord some compensation instead. A land owner wouldn’t refuse more land, and we have enough issues as it were. 

 

“If the humans from the south continue to attack my forces, I will act..” 

 

I paused.

 

“If the lord of the southern lands would continue attacks, I would act against him. If he is killed, you would take over the governance under the same arrangement as we have here.” 

 

Whether I could trust him in that was a question, but I was in a dire shortage of human sympathisers as of now. The Viceroy glanced at me, and then at Tama, which took the position near me, then to Arke, as zombified thralls delivered the message once again. 

 

The lord flinched once more, and I was certain he had a migraine. A lack of sleep gets even the most influential people. 

 

“He agrees to the arrangement, Master.” 

 

It was quick.

 

However, before I could respond, or do anything else, the advisor - the sage, and technically appointed mayor - barged into the hall. 

 

There were no guards, except for the few ‘Eviscerators’ materialising from the shadows of the hallway, waving to me in greeting.

 

No human had attempted to stop the sage. Perhaps that was the issue the Viceroy complained about - he was left with only a handful of men, and no servants, since our occupation began. 

 

Perhaps I should arrange for the servants to work the palace, but I wasn’t sure if we had any money left to pay the staff, or have a ‘Fleshspeaker’ to command the zombified human to do the cleaning. 

 

An outburst of words he let out was without a doubt inappropriate, or rather rude, for the situation, compared to the collected behaviour the Viceroy gave out, but considering I had no practical - or even theoretical - understanding of the local etiquette, it did not matter. 

 

 I didn’t need the native scholar for that. 

 

Instead, more practical knowledge was required - or esoteric rather, as the actual magic has been involved - and aside from the old, slightly eccentric sage, there was no one else I could consult on the matter. He looked fervently around the room, with few other words escaping him, making me question his sanity. 

 

He even looked at the nearby ‘Eviscerator’ that likely followed him around, and wanted to shake her as he demanded an answer, then thought better of it, and stopped himself. 

 

The wolf girl wasn’t too amused by the human. 

 

It was unfortunate there weren’t any alternatives.

 

“Tell him we found the scroll of....” I said to nobody in particular.

 

“...Pho-us-kah.” I was advised. That name would be the end of me, I couldn’t memorise it. Perhaps I should resign myself to calling the ancient sorcerer ‘Oscar’ even if it would be quite silly, just to spare myself of another struggle with the memorization and pronunciation of yet another local term.  

 

The zombified humans, the only thing that could act as security in my girls’ absence, barked out the translation. 

 

The ageing, and now possibly mad, scholar understood and fell down on his knees, bowing his head to the ground. 

 

“He said he will do anything, Master.” Somewhere behind me, my ‘Alpha’ bat translated. 

 

Few more words. 

 

“He repeats anything.” 

 

I guessed he took the hesitation as doubt whether he was worthy, which in truth wasn’t this much of a problem for us. We didn’t have an alternative. 

 

“Kuma, show him.” I said, gesturing for the bear-girl. With her imposing size, she would possibly deter the sage from doing anything foolish, but even that was uncertain. I could feel Kuma’s smirk, but Tama was ready to simply intercept the not quite sane man. Her claws flickered with flames.

 

Narita had to step in, and so did Ekaterina, since now the hall was filled by my closest followers. 

 

The old wise man took the lesson. I didn’t want to harm him. He was far too crucial to our efforts now, despite his eccentric attitude. 

 

Kuma unrolled the scroll, letting the manuscript dangle. 

 

“Tell him to look. Can he say it is genuine?” I asked. As to us, it certainly did feel magical. The energy it contained tingled to my senses even as we spoke. 

 

The sage scrambled to his feet, moved closer, his shaking hand hovering over the scroll, unsure if he could touch the ancient artefact, while he, once again, continued to ramble. 

 

It doesn’t tell me anything, and it appears it puzzled even my bat girl too, or her meat puppets didn’t catch it. Perhaps I shouldn’t ask to validate it - after all, this was possibly magical. Its arcane power called to me even now, waiting to be used, waiting to be released.

 

“I am not sure what it means, Master.” 

 

For all his erratic, questionable behaviour, the old man acted as if there was an invaluable treasure in front of him, which did give a certain validity to this unexplainable sensation I left in its presence. 

 

“But can he translate it? It is not in the local tongue?” I insisted, and the puppets barked at the order.

 

More rambling. It was weird, even for the standards of the already outlandish situation, but the strange tension in the air created by the artefact didn’t change, making me doubt it was more active than it was before.

 

There were few attempts to communicate, but it was now clear that the girls were quite frustrated with the inability to understand it, which made me assume that whatever the Sage just said was, indeed, a third language, not one that the humans normally spoke. 

 

“We…are not sure, Master. Maybe he is reading it?” 

 

Arke’s insight came too late, and I could see the ‘Displacer’ disappearing into the rift, and I was certain they were out of their depths as the man spoke either too fast, or in the way their current enthralled puppets didn’t comprehend.  

 

“Does he? Did you catch anything?” 

 

The sage once again said something. I was completely confused now which part was the ‘third tongue’ and which was the human’s native speech, as I understood neither. 

 

“He said…” Arke said, “Repeat the words and … crack in the truth … shall appear?” 

 

What is that supposed to mean? 

 

More words, which made me question whether what followed was an incantation of sorts. The indescribable, invisible, yet undeniably present energy surrounding the parchment throbbed with each and every syllable, as the old man, completely engrossed with the alien text let out and …

We are rushing towards the end of days!

 

The message blinked in front of my eyes, and I had enough.

 

“Hey!” I raised my voice, which broke the sage’s reverie, and made the Viceroy, still present, protest, likely demanding an explanation. 

 

The old man’s eyes darted away from the scroll. 

 

“Focus.” I told him, which was helpfully translated, as the ‘Displacer’ returned with the ‘brain-bug’ through the portal, which should hopefully help as an interpreter in the future. It was intended to be better at it, wasn’t it? 

 

The Viceroy looked positively pale, but remained stoic. My attention turned back to his advisor. 

 

“Do not do anything that would activate the artefact!” I said aloud, gesturing, almost as I thought the raised voice would convey my meaning, when I realised ‘activate’ is another modern word: “Do not speak any incantations it contains! We may forever lose the way to study it afterwards!” 

 

The sage seemingly understood my outburst despite the language barrier, as the words from the new ‘brain-bug’ caught up to him after his eyes lit with understanding. The idea of losing the treasure once again did get to him as well, since he too visibly paled after the words conveyed the idea of losing the artefact just as easily as he discovered it. 

 

“He apologises for being rash, Master.” 

 

“Do you understand it?” I asked again, and the answer was obvious, but not quite coherent, as even the new interpreter didn’t help Arke enough.

 

“He does. Some of it…it is … old tongue? Lost? Before kingdom?” 

 

“I want you to translate it. Do not speak any phrase that would be an incantation. It is too dangerous.” 

 

Pause. Confused looks, then understanding. The voice leaving the ‘brain-bug’ had sparked some befuddlement at first, but the old man caught up remarkably quickly, all things considered. He bowed down apologetically. 

 

“He apologises. He doesn’t understand it all, but some parts of the text are clear…” 

 

But he did speak it out loud, I thought. Although it was possible that the artefact influenced him, I didn’t know that for sure, and I guessed if whatever was written there was purely phonetic, he was reading aloud to sound out the words.

 

“Could you tell what the scroll speaks about?” I asked, and once the meaning was conveyed, he raised his head, gestured towards the scroll, pointing at the portions of the parchment with the diagram, and the associated captions and remarks, all done with that weird script. 

 

“... many worlds that were closed away…” 

 

They pointed at the scroll, moving their hands around it, while seemingly narrating something concerning what I originally thought was the astronomical diagram, or a star map, which dominated the entire manuscript. 

 

“.I don’t understand. He speaks about… creation? Master?” 

 

Voice of Arke interrupted, this time sounding from the pet ‘brain-bug’ instead of speaking through her own body. Her wings rested down. 

 

“Just translate, please.” 

 

I thought the sage understood and pointed somewhere else. 

 

“...the fog that was and will be…”

 

Then another section of the writing. 

 

“... the fog that was and will be, it rages…” 

 

And another.

 

“.... rebellion… of the mortal realm…and the dragons…” 

 

And yet another, afterwards. Regardless if this writing was supposed to be read from the left to right, or right from left, it was obvious he couldn’t understand all of it, and he jumps between the widely separated sections. 

 

“... the dragons couldn’t hold the boundary…” 

 

Yet a different section was referenced. There were supposedly a lot of complex words used, so the man seems to have a vocabulary for what is written, but not the mind to focus on one thing. 

 

“...the fog that was and will be to consume them…”

 

And the ending. He moved his hand, again. 

 

“Enough!” I ordered. Unless this was supposed to be read in the chessboard pattern, this was nonsense.

 

Now I was certain he doesn’t understand all the words, but knows how to pronounce them. It was dangerous if they acted like an invocation to be spoken above: without the speaker able to discern the meaning or intent, yet able to pronounce it, this was the disaster about to happen. Only consolidation was a necessity to speak aloud and thus the option to interrupt the ritual, but it was a minor one. Memorization was, I suppose, possible. 

 

“Could you study this without casting its spell, or spells, and deliver the translation in writing? Never speaking it words aloud. Transcribe everything to your tongue.” 

 

The native language, one they used in day-to-day communication, fortunately didn’t trigger the reaction from the artefact. 

 

The man paused. First unsure, then vehemently agreed. I didn’t even need the interpreter puppet for this.

 

“He could.” 

 

“You would remain under guard at all times.” I said, “The Scroll will remain in a single room, bring whatever you need to deliver the translation here. You will be dedicated to its study from now on.  You will indicate which parts are untranslatable or uncertain. You start as soon as you can…” 

 

This did the trick. The man bowed, then bowed once more, and scampered away. I was certain he was thankful for this new assignment, even though none of his world was translated just yet. 

 

“I think he accepted the task, Master.” Miwah said, giving Arke and her pet interpreter-spider some breathing room. 

 

“The humans-things are more agreeable. When they obey. You. Master.” Narita added, while in the subsequent moment of silence, the Viceroy let himself be known again. He looked sick. Perhaps the entire experience shocked him. 

 

“Lord Viceroy.” I said, “We thank you for your advisor’s assistance.” 

 

I was sure he didn’t see Arke’s flesh-crafted pet before, as the voice in the native language once again left the strange eight-legged monstrosity, skittering closer to him, and by extension, Arke. The bat-girl decided she liked the official throne the most, and sat on it again, and the local ruler didn’t find the strength to dispute it. 

 

“Your assistance is invaluable. We thank you for providing us the aid of your men, and your advisor, we aren't going to ask them to leave the palace anymore. It would now host the most valuable script…” I said. 

 

It wasn’t the best line, but I improvised. 

 

The Viceroy finally replied. 

 

“He asks if it is one from the royal vaults, one the Crown Princess took?”

 

The mention of the Crown Princess I never heard about, or met, was puzzling, but knowing that I spoke with the high ranked official and the other parts of the collection were supposedly within the Royal vaults, I thought nothing of it. 

 

We pulled one from the depth of the sea, I supposed that the members of the royal family could as well as have one. They controlled the largest collection, didn’t they? 

 

I shook my head after the brief silence. 

 

“That one…” I gestured towards the scroll Kuma now elegantly rolled in, “Is the scroll your capital doesn’t have. One of the missing ones from the collection we recovered to the south. There are more”

 

He didn’t look well, however; he managed to ask a question, which was subsequently translated as: 

 

“He asks if it will stay here?”

 

“Yes, it would.” I confirmed, as it was my plan all along, although I didn’t expect him to find out about it so soon, but that couldn’t be taken back. I should be asking where he is in the future, every time we teleport. 

 

“Do his men provide security?” Was the following query, understandably. 

 

“My people would guard it.” I said, however, I considered whether it would be wise to deny him access. The idea he could try to use it occurred, but I wasn’t certain if he could. 

 

Good faith, I reminded myself. 

 

“You, as our trusted ally, are allowed to access it, of course. But I ask you to not speak any of the recorded incantations.” 

 

He paused while I questioned my decision - the local lord wasn’t even this trustworthy. 

 

Although there was a substantial risk that the Viceroy would, either on his own, or with the assistance of his advisor, try to use the magic himself and, to our detriment, denying him access would be equally dangerous. We barely managed to pacify the riot within the city, and so far, even the willingness to speak to us was a massive boon over the default native’s belligerence.

 

“This is a treasure your royal family doesn’t take lightly.” I reminded him, gesturing towards the item. 

 

For all the mysteries, and misunderstanding, I still recalled the mentions that only known copies - or parts, rather - were the most guarded secret. Only thing I hope I provide is the correct context. 

 

I, for the short moment, wondered whether the local ruler struggled with the headache, or deeply considers the offer, but in the end, he replied, and this time, it was Arke who said, her tone a little mocking:

 

“He said he agrees, Master.” 

 

“Very well. I must make sure your lost man reports once he returns.” I said, and with a brief nod, I left the throne room, leaving this exhausting exercise in the dialogue behind me. 

 

A lot of decisions were made that required a certain level of apprehension. 

 

A few away from the throne hall, where the Viceroy still stayed with Arke looming over him, I stopped and turned to Miwah. She and Tama were almost always at my side. 

 

“Miwah, bring me eight of your sisters.” I ordered, 

 

“To your bedroom?” Tama teased, her ears perked out, and the many fluffy tails waved behind her. It was almost evening, but this, this wasn’t what I had in mind. They would be the new guardians of the artefact. 

 

“...to the gardens.” I said, “There needs to be Mutators still assigned to it, perhaps an arcane fruit to be distributed…” 

 

“Yes, Master.” Miwah confirmed, and I continued down towards the gardens. It was the ‘Displacer’ that led me, this time on her feet, or rather paws, pointing down towards them. 

 

The verdant madness of the garden where the laws of nature no longer applied wasn’t far away, and there, in the dim light of the fading day, the tree of the arcane still shone. There were arcane fruits on it as I assumed, their strange glow even more visible now. 

 

I didn’t use any of them today. There was an arbitrary limit, but I didn’t use any today. 

 

“Eight of those would go to the Eviscerators…” I decided, pointing out to the unearthly produce on the twisted branch.

 

“The evolved will stalk the Sage and scroll all the time to prevent the misuse and activation, and interrupt him should he, or the Viceroy, attempt to use its magic.  Also, we need to know should someone should try to steal it. Otherwise, there would be someone to lend him a hand with papers and stuff…” 

 

The perfect invisibility was about to get very useful, considering the Viceroy too had the access too. I must show him a certain trust, but it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t let the scroll be guarded. 

 

“Yes, Master.” 

 

Kuma still held the scroll dutifully. It still waited for the appropriate room to store it was selected, but since only consideration was cooperation at this moment, I decided: 

 

“Let the Sage pick the room, but put two Ravagers at the door at all times…

 

Kuma yawned, and so did Ekaterina. Their sheer size would certainly dissuade any would-be thieves, even the ordinary ‘Ravagers’ weren’t small. 

 

“Until he does, Kuma will guard it.” The hulking bear-lady could not only touch the enchanted parchment, but could, very easily, defend it. 

 

“Yes, Master.” She agreed, and for her easily bored expression, she didn’t protest. 

 

I continued to the centre of the garden. It was nearly empty, not counting the few ‘Mutator’ moths hanging around, seemingly tired after the day of work. The lone ‘Purifier’ snoozing in the grass nearby, an anthropomorphic fox side by side with the moth girl, reminded me of something.

 

“One Purifier could get the fruit too, to keep watch on duty in case someone starts a fire. There are torches everywhere. I can’t allow the scroll to be burned down…”

 

Even if I wasn’t sure it could, in fact, burn, there was something ironic about the pyromaniacs handling fire prevention. They have been able to put down the fires they started, but I wasn’t so certain whether it was universal. 

 

“Yes, Master.” Tama purred, and snuggled herself close, approving the choice. 

 

There was a water controlling breed now, but the need to always have the body of water at hand didn’t make them into perfect firefighters. 

 

The small ‘Mutator’ girl handed me the spiky, glowing Fruit of Arcane, as the ‘Eviscerators’ gathered brought in by the collection of tiny rifts. Narita would, I hope, handle the transfer of the energy from the fruit to the new candidates for empowerment. 

 

Perhaps I could try to get the ‘Corruptor’ to get one, but the darkening skies dishearten me for the experimentation with the powers that governed the fruits, as the first of my anthropomorphic werewolf-girls transformed into their new, more elegant, more jackal-shaped forms and another notification flipped in front of my eyes. 

Unit evolved! Valerie, The Named Eradicator 315 could be Evolved until Innate resources run out …

Next, and next…

 

…

 

Until there were eight jackal-esque beauties ready for their next task, and I could feel their anticipation, though their duty would, unfortunately, be babysitting though. 

 

Still, I felt guilt, and shame, realising that I have three Valeries, something I didn’t realise before, and dismissed the screens. 

 

A ‘Purifier’ became ‘Purger’, but as I watched her rapidly grow to the beautiful vixen, I realised that my closest, and more faithful, were not getting any. Miwah leaned closer, and I still clutched the one fruit, one which hadn't been used. 

 

“This one goes to Miwah, please.” 

 

My beautiful werewolf lady’s body has grown, but unlike her smaller sister, her newer form wasn’t the one of the jackal. She remained the same, if even slightly taller, gorgeous anthropomorphic canine, with the full, feminine body, underlining she was every bit the elegant, voluptuous lady Tama also was. 

 

Unlike Narita’s horns, or Tama’s multiple fluffy tails, there weren’t any additional traits, just the almost ethereal beauty of the ghostly pale fur, and the blue eyes of the warm flame. 

 

Unit evolved! Miwah, The Broodmother of Darkness and Deceit 307 could be Evolved until Innate resources run out …

 

“Why deceit?” I pondered, as she had retained her wolf-like shape, now with a more exaggerated spectral hue, not exactly the symbol of the tricker. Symbolically, that should be the role of the fox, as far I remembered, but the powers beyond the system had different ideas. 

 

Then, Miwah changed shape, and where she once stood, there was a human female, very similar to Ari, of the same ethnicity with the same dark raven hair and still the same hauntingly beautiful eyes my anthropomorphic werewolf had. Even the local clothing was reproduced. 

 

I didn’t expect this. New abilities were unseen so far, though the full extent of Tama’s power hasn’t been tested. Strangely enough, it felt wrong - the human shape was young, but something in me prevented me from appreciating it. 

 

“Change back, Miwah.” I said, and with the shift of shadows, the white she-wolf was back. 

 

I reached to kiss her. There was something appreciable about her mane, and fur, and snout - she was my wolf mate.  Nothing could replace that.

 

“I want to know why it is this way, but let’s go rest for the night.” 

 

One of the mysteries the Scroll wasn’t still answering was why I felt that females of my species were supposed to look this way, rather than human-like. My memories left me so conflicted on this point.

 

But the answers, they would have to wait for tomorrow.