Changeling

Camille walked down the path with their shields up and transparent, which was extremely difficult to manage and would get tall praise from any instructor but no one was here to appreciate it. Most raiders had no idea how hard it was to maintain barriers and keep them altered at the same time because people didn’t respect mana aspects enough. Not as flashy as earth, or metal. High flow defensive affinity. But Camille was shaping a transparent armor set because they were just that good.

At least it was good practice.

The farther they went and the more dense the mana grew, the more the trees turned from tame leafy things to twisted, towering old growths. Roots snaked to the surface, and traces of life appeared: husks of fruits, webs, tracks, feces, territorial markings in the form of claw marks. The silence was replaced by the hooting and the ululating and the cries of night creatures fighting, fucking, and feeding. And dying. Sweat covered Camille’s body and made their focus waver but they didn’t stop, and they didn’t waste time looking around either. That was her job.

After ten minutes, Camille was starting to think the old man was fucking with them but that was until they heard a familiar whistle. They dove to the ground. Something smashed against the roof of the shield, ripping against the mana in angry blue sparks before skewering one of the trees behind them. Camille was up and running before splinters could even reach their position. They remembered the direction the javelin had come from. Front and left, not from the rear as anticipated. They almost thought that strange first gen would retreat but the clash of blades told them the battle was already joined. More roots. More branches. They kept their shields up because Dawn Spear was alone, but the lizards might not be. It wouldn’t do to develop bad habits.

The sounds of battle coming from behind a boulder showed them the way. Camille jumped on top of the rock in one smooth motion before stopping. The battle was already moving on, and they were late. It was frustrating.

Frustrating was a word that summarized Nestra and just generally being in her vicinity. Frustrating to talk to because her mind didn’t seem to follow the normal paths, or because she was teasing Camille with her biting humor. Frustrating to handle because she was unusually helpful but also sometimes oblivious to basic realities. Nestra should have wondered how the two of them had ended up assigned to the same superior, and also introduced Camille to Mazingwe so the old fuck wouldn’t give them such a hard time. She hadn’t, because it was not battle related. Mostly, frustrating to fight. From looking at the massive transformed shape smashing her sword at Dawn Spear’s defense, a neophyte might assume she was just abusing her strength and brandishing that huge hunk of metal willy nilly but nothing could be further from the truth. Nestra was the most talented fencer Camille had ever faced and she was as unrelenting as she was cunning. Strength was just the visible tip of an iceberg of precise strikes, devious feints, and the most twisted counters she’d ever had to parry. Even now she was moving through the underbrush like a targeted blender. Mazingwe wasn’t able to use his spear’s superior range to fend her off because she was always, always advancing on him. As she sprinted ahead, Camille wondered why he — there it was. A splash of light showed the first proper use of mana the old gleam had ever revealed. He appeared a bit farther, on a low branch. An instant later, Nestra’s blade crashed against his spear again.

Yeah because she could teleport as well.

“Not so fassssst,” the giant woman hissed with childlike glee.

Dawn Spear dodged behind a trunk. Nestra’s feint turned into a monstrous sweep that tore through the bark and wood in a shower of splinters. The diversion allowed her to charge low while Camille, finally here, struck high. Mazingwe deftly used his spear to block both attacks, then he slammed the butt of his spear against Camille’s shield and used the impact to crash it into Nestra’s guard. She was barely pushed aside while Camille let the shield dissipate to lessen the impact. They attacked together with the same level of nasty coordination they’d develop against Manh: always be in the most unpleasant spot possible. Always attack where it would cause the most grief. Nestra ignored Dawn Spear’s next thrust. Deliberately.

They raised a shield to stop the blow at the very last instant. Mazingwe had to block Nestra’s lunge with his forearm. His armor blocked the strike but he was pushed back. And that was insane. The attack would have taken his eye if he hadn’t defended properly. And wounded Nestra grievously if Camille hadn’t acted like the big oaf counted on.

“Don’t rely on me,” Camille swore at Nestra as the two gave chase.

Nestra looked at them for less than a breath, blinked, then moved on. Camille didn’t know the clan gleam that well but she could almost see her last non-combat brain cell take in what Camille had just said and then ignore it, possibly throwing itself off the idiot’s ear as a last gesture of defiance. Camille had to use barriers to push themself faster. Mazingwe blocked more of their attacks, but it was abundantly clear now that unless he used his true B-class abilities, he wasn’t going to win. Thing was, neither were Nestra and Camille. He could keep them at bay, if barely.

“Stop,” the man eventually said, raising a hand.

Camille stopped. To their surprise, Nestra did as well even though they half expected her to charge on with a bark or something.

It was the transformation form. It was the only demon one Camille had never heard about, and they could see it wasn’t the lascivious succubus or temptor devil one could expect from literature. Instead, Nestra was closer to an oni, or more modern war demons that abounded in pre-Incursion entertainment. The only weird things were the absence of a tail, and the decidedly monochrome appearance.

Why wasn’t Nestra’s transformed body red?

It ought to be red.

“I must admit that you were much more prepared for this than I expected,” Dawn Spear said. “It appears that training you is unnecessary. Nestra, your camouflage is impressive. Shadow magic?”

“Yep.”

“You are also adept at fighting an enemy that wields a spear.”

“I had a good teacher,” the demon mocked, tilting her head.

The horns glistened ominously in the darkness, but it was the eyes that made Camille uncomfortable, sometimes. One could never be sure what Nestra was currently looking at. It made reading her intent difficult.

“As for you, Camille, your bait was excellent. Were your shields shaped?”

“Shaped and camouflaged.”

“How long can you keep it up?” he continued.

They winced.

“Not that long.”

“Lizardmen aim for the face, guts, and armpits. They seldom target the legs on humans. You might do better by reducing and reinforcing the targeted areas.”

Camille nodded. They were also hoping Nestra’s exceptional mana perception would help.

“Your teamwork is exemplary. The way you constantly attack is what I would have suggested at the end of the training, after you’d failed.”

Camille shrugged while Nestra turned her head to a nearby fat bird. She licked her lips. Damn glutton. Goldfish attention span. Frustrating.

“I think it’s our standard approach, or it was the last time we fought side by side.”

“Oh?” Mazingwe asked.

That battle was classified so Camille clammed up on that front.

“It just works well against lizardmen tactics. If that’s what you used, sir.”

“They sometimes use traps and nets though we don’t expect them here since they’re fleeing. Lizardmen often have earth and nature affinities as well, so you will have to be careful. Few use them offensively.”

He looked away. Nestra didn’t, so Camille assumed he was thinking and not hearing a threat. Eventually, he returned to studying them. A bit of his mana bled through when he did and they saw him backlit in a burning radiance, like an uncaring god. Camille had checked Dawn Spear’s profile before coming since he would be their handler. There was nothing in recent years, but old news articles… battle of Mogadishu, squad leader in Riel’s army, one of the Serpent Slayers. The man was a legend. And it looked like he was coming out of retirement. It would be perfect if Camille could bind their star to his so the path to Threshold’s better careers opened to them. A B-class sponsor meant better raids, more resources, more training, possibly a reduced sentence.

Nestra was oblivious to all of this, of course. The woman was loaded, connected, and completely clueless. She had been down on her luck so she ought to be ravenously eager to climb but somehow, she wasn’t. As Camille watched, the big transformed gleam inspected her blade for defects.

“So when can we start the hunt?” she asked.

Maybe it was that simple.

“If only you had a third,” Mazingwe grumbled.

“Just pull Valerian Nephrite from whatever he’s doing?”

Dawn Spear raised a brow.

“We talked about it, young Palladian. Should I really publically hire the pariah of House Nephrite, angering the entire BaiHe corporation in the process?”

“Duh? Are you a bottom tier raider or Dawn Spear working with the army? Do you want a third or what?”

“I’ll see what I can do. I have one last recommendation, then I’ll give you a few more details about the missions,” Mazingwe said. “First, do you know the most fundamental difference between the way we fight, and the way they do?”

“Ambush approach? Superior range? Loners?” Nestra listed down.

“Stop. Yes. The lizardmen are ambush predators. They are patient, deliberate, fast when they attack though they lack flexibility. Do you know what we are?”

“Tool users?” Nestra chuckled.

“We are pack hunters,” Dawn Spear said with dead seriousness. “Oh, you’re thinking we are too civilized to be summarized by such a simple label. Or that we are endurance hunters. Perhaps there is a truth to it, but the pack is just beneath the surface.”

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He smiled.

“Yesterday I watched a group of children play with a drone piloted by a parent. The drone would fly up, they would stand, the drone flew down, they squatted. It was quite adorable…”

He leaned forward.

“And then the drone took off. Instantly, without thought, the entire group of children raced after it. Cornered it after it slowed down. Swarmed it when it tried to fly up. We are pack hunters, Nestra. It’s in our genes. When you face the lizardmen, don’t overthink it. Don’t try to counter-ambush it or play it smart. Too many brilliant young gleams think they’re clever and they fail. You did it right the first time. Once you spot the beast, run it down. Do not relent. Catch it… and tear it apart.”

“That was my plan all along,” claimed the one who only ever planned her next meal.

Well, maybe Camille was being an ass. Nestra was a clever fighter.

“Let’s talk about the mission. We will only be hunting for two days, which should be more than enough to catch the attention of the lizardmen.”

Camille nodded. They had supplies for that long.

“The reason Threshold called for us is that, one, the army needs to regroup. Two, lizardmen are not suicidal. They do not ambush when they’re sure to die. That means we need bait. That is you.”

He crossed his arms. Camille got a feeling that things had not gone according to script.

“I honestly expected you two to use Nestra’s untransformed body as bait.”

“That is extremely dangerous,” Camille protested. “Sir. Transformation powers do not make someone invincible. She wouldn’t be able to transform with a spear through the brain. That plan is, well, I am not sure I can accept that sir. Even with her armor set.”

Half of her field of vision was covered by an insufferably smug demon with teeth like nacreous fangs from some needle-phobic nightmare.

“Aww. I knew you cared!”

“Nestra, this is serious. You could very well die.”

“Ahem,” Dawn Spear interrupted, and Camille realized they may have blown up any chance at networking they had with the first gen. But fuck it.

“It no longer matters since your approach, I think, will bear fruit. One on one, lizardmen often believe they have the upper hand. They still regard humanity as poor fighters who compensate with technology.”

Nestra rolled her eyes.

“The only non-cowardly tech is my tech and no better,” she summarized.

Camille had to agree.

“Citizen Nguyen’s bait should work. If it does not, no matter. I am still impressed by your ability to hide, Nestra. I admit that I had underestimated it the few times I saw it in action.”

“I practiced my shadow magic hard. Great to get close. Also, you would have noticed it better if you didn’t use a ton of light mana while throwing various knives at me for ‘training purposes’.”

So they had a history. Interesting. And unsurprising. It was like Nestra had a finger in every pie.

“We can revisit your infiltrator skills later, of course. I merely focused on the striker ones first, seeing as you favor this role. Time is always limited.”

Nestra sighed.

“Ain’t that the truth. Alright. Should we go now?”

“Yes. Check your map. I will be providing overwatch in order to intercept the B-class they have.”

Camille sighed.

It was back to being bait.

***

The forest across the bridge was very much the temperate, old one Nestra had encountered in ‘fae war’ worlds before. The trees were tall with thick canopies, the dim underbrush was filled with alien ferns and all manner of brambles crawling with critters. It smelled of loam. A vague haze of mana permeated the place, sometimes broken by tiny flashes of mana when small, exotic birds hunted. It was also getting warmer.

Nestra’s steps were confident. Mazingwe was right: portal worlds were great training spots: the crucible to form a wild force capable of operating in many different biomes, conditions, able to adapt on the fly. She knew how to move quietly because she’d learnt to do so in several such worlds. Keeping her eyes up for any mana source, she walked at a brisk pace. Far to her right, Camille lumbered on while carrying a piece of equipment on their back, one lizardmen wouldn’t identify as a broken field sensor — all part of Nestra’s cunning plan to make Camille more desirable as a target and also to protect their back so the lizardmen would be tempted to strike their front instead. Truly, Nestra was a master tactician. All that was left for Nestra was to patrol the front like a shadow clad in even more shadow with a puff of shadow wings near the shoulders. Camille was also very clunky and they sometimes swore. Nestra had to admire their commitment to the act. They were going full, well, west for lack of a better term. A small river flowed from the edge of the world and around the human entrance portal. Nestra guessed the lizardmen would reach and follow it because even C-class gleams needed water. Humans didn’t need to because they had logistics (big water bottles). It was probably even more dangerous than pack hunting instincts, Nestra reckoned.

Her excitement didn’t abate for the first few hours despite the monotony because she knew her prey was there somewhere. It was just a matter of finding them. They both stopped at lunch without communicating in order to eat and drink a little. Nestra regretted not having more time but this was important. Camille was following some sort of beast trail. They were often in the open, in fields of high grass between several copses of lush trees. It didn’t sound like it was a very pleasant trip.

To Nestra’s surprise, the first unusual thing she picked up was a scent: the telltale smell of cooking meat. She slowed down. Quietly, she removed her datasheet from her backpack and sent a quick message to Camille over radio waves. The gleam paused when their own datasheet pinged.

Nestra crept forward in a mantle of shadow mana, thicker now that she no longer had to care about conserving her strength. The smell of blood and something spicier joined the meat. She sneaked between trees and eventually spotted blood on leaves in the distance, near a very old tree with missing branches. Sunshine pierced through the damaged canopy, and the nearby vegetation had been flattened. The smell of smoke was strong now. Quietly, Nestra moved around the spot so that it was between Camille and herself. It was difficult not to make any noise here as the underbrush was overgrown, but she managed by moving up into the trees, using branches to hop from bough to bough. Splotches of mana told her she was in the right spot. This was it.

Below her was a small, very basic camp with a fire, some wooden tools, and dug hollows she could only imagine were used as some kind of bed. A sort of indentation in a tree bled sappy water into a bowl made of bound leaves. The fire had been smothered with soil. She didn’t need to see lizardmen to know it was recent, but she did. There were three of them: two taller than the last. The largest one had a bullet wound going though its shoulder though it looked completely scabbed over. They had their back to her. Nestra grinned with all her teeth. Ambushing the ambushers was always such a rush.

Her urge to rush them was tempered by experience. How many times had she thought she’d already won only for something to go wrong at the last minute? By some cruel fate that hated fun? Maybe they had a fourth guy, and very likely traps and snares. She carefully moved up her branch to draw closer, timing it with low, hissy conversations so as to block the sound. She hid when one of the lizardmen twitched. A very, very careful glance over a shadow-altered bough confirmed the lizardmen had looked back for a moment.

Noise came from up ahead. Nestra stole a glance towards the clearing to see Camille fiddling with their equipment, being as loud as possible. Clever. After fifteen seconds of observation, Nestra decided that there were only three of the buggers or that the fourth one was too well-camouflaged for her. Three lizardmen together was already supposed to be too much, but it looked like times were changing. Nestra wasn’t going to take any risks. Those were three C-class foes. She pointed her fingers at the largest warrior, the wounded one. The potential dot landed on its spine. It turned, serpentine eyes wide. It grabbed a spear.

An idle part of Nestra noticed they had five fingers. Maybe it was convergent evolution?

BOOM

The creature’s chest exploded in a wave of gore. Power rushed into Nestra, though not much. She was already dropping down. The sound would alert Camille. Nestra charged forward, dodging under the smaller lizard’s thrust. The taller one whacked her blade down. Nestra allowed it to be pushed as she closed in, surprising her enemy. She didn’t need her sword. Planting her feet down, she pushed on her left foot, then covered her knuckles with void mana.

The uppercut landed into the second lizard’s ribs.

With a ghastly crack of broken bones and the hiss of vaporized scales, her fist almost dug into her enemy’s chest. She deftly dodged under another attack from the third foe. The wounded lizardmen crashed, completely disabled by the atrocious pain. Nestra’s blade went up, then down. More power rushed her as well as a deep, curious craving. With a screech, the last, smaller one engaged. It was clearly the weakest of them all, even though it was C-class. Her human self might be able to finish it.

Actually…

Before she could consider giving herself a challenge, Camille rammed the lizardman, skewering its heart from the side. Blood sprayed over the fallen leaves.

Nestra watched her foe fall without granting her any energy. Ah well. No matter. There was something important to do.

“Stop playing with your food, Nestra,” a voice said in human. English. Whatever. Not important. Safe.

Nestra felt an overwhelming urge to check her surroundings. There were no more lizardmen here, she knew, but should she still take the corpses somewhere else? That didn’t feel necessary. She counted the beddings. Three. All enemies accounted for.

“I found heads, Nestra. In this one’s bag. Five of them, civilians. That is… ghastly.”

Unimportant.

“Keep them for burial. Later.”

“Nestra? Is something the matter?”

She mumbled something.

“Prepare,” she hissed.

“What?”

Bothersome. Nestra waved the person’s concern away. A deep part pushed her to be truly, truly alone but it was silly. Human Camille was safe. And time was wasting. She still dragged the corpses into a recess just in case.

“Nestra you’re worrying me.”

“Jussssst gimme moment. Five minutes.”

“Okay?”

Peace. Safety. The urge was so, so very strong. She planted her fingers in the largest lizardman’s chest to grab the core, which she brought to her mouth to crack open but not consume. Swallow instead. Earth and nature, as expected. Pungent. Stable. The symbiote pulled away from her hands to let her work on the next part. She had the core but she needed information. Her hands were suddenly coated in a thick, oily layer of void mana that was not destructive, somehow. It tasted like what she did to force her way into portal worlds. Pressed on the dead one’s chest. Where was the head? Behind.

“Give…. give head,” she ordered.

“Nestra what the fuck is happening?”

“Please?” she hissed.

Camille helped. Nestra’s hands were covered in void energy and they absorbed what they touched. It was a big head and she didn’t have big hands so it took a while to take the entire brain, then the bones. She needed more. Her other hand dove through the ribs and grabbed the heart. Strong. There was almost no noise…. the flesh was there and then, it wasn’t. She took more, and more. Needed to have enough or the process couldn’t get started. The more the better. She absorbed most of the chest, both organs and muscles. She moved to powerful deltoids, down to biceps on one side. The other.

“Nestra I swear to Riel’s merciful ass.”

“Hussh.”

She kept working, harvesting more. Her absorption speed never slowed down. It was just like squeezing packed sand and the sand disappeared between her fingers. Good, good, but she needed… more information. That donor wasn’t a perfect match. She turned her attention to the smaller lizard lying in a pool of their blood… her blood, she realized. Smaller shape. Minor dimorphism. She grabbed the dead one’s chest. Female genetic material. Matching. Enough, she had enough to start… but why stop there?

“Nestra I’m weirded the fuck out.”

“Issss safe.”

There was a space inside of her, one that was familiar yet… different. Something was quickly forming in it. It was very weird.

“Whatever you’re doing, hurry. I think we’re getting company. I hear something.”

Nestra did her best to take a lot of matter in. Soon she had all she could absorb for now. The pocket was already too stretched. The rest she’d have to build. She was sure Sereth could just do it in one go, the asshole.

“Nestra it’s now or never.”

“Am good.”

Nestra stood up and stretched, finally done. Just had to make sure everything was fine. There were now… that was so weird. There were now two paths. One was as familiar as the way from her pillow pile to her fridge. The other was new and difficult to pin. Her instincts were pushing her back towards the other. She pushed anyway.

“I got it…”

She turned back into her human form, currently wearing the Bellerophon.

“Huh.”

Failed.

“Let’s take cover,” Nestra suggested, her cortex kicking in.

They hid behind a tree but Nestra soon succumbed to the urge. She had no choice. She absolutely needed to get that thing done. Human Nestra thought it was garbage timing and dangerous, but she also knew that once started, she had to finish. She changed back to her true form and visualized the second path. It was there. It was there. Just had to get it once. Pushing her mind away from her familiar human body, she envisioned another shape. Different.

The path opened as if it had always been there. The pockets shifted. Her world shifted.

She was shorter now, even shorter than Camille but that was only temporary. There was a core in her chest that radiated a comforting and diffuse earth and nature mix. The world was dimmer, monochrome. Her scent was… she tasted the air with her tongue. It smelled like aliens and kin and blood and excrement and smoke and…

“Nestra tell me this is you… what the fuck is going on?”

Beige scales with black and yellow patterns, recognizable to her even with her faulty sight. Dull but pretty. She wanted to check them all. She tried to inform Camille.

“Mlem. Hss. Blb.”

Difficult.

“Nestra!”

She wanted to sit down and relax. Focus. Take the time to inspect every scale, every limb. She felt an urge to be very deliberate and patient about it… but there was danger. Her body warmed up… and the urge was finally silenced.

Finally.

She immediately switched back to her Aszhii form, aware that things were fucked.

“Dammit.”

“Nestra I need a fucking explanation.”

But they wouldn’t get one. Nestra looked up, seeing mana manipulated above them and to the side. A lizardman had been sneaking around a tree, their scales merging with the vegetation until they were near invisible. A half cocked javelin rested in its hand. Its mouth opened and shut, showing sharp teeth. It pointed a finger at her.

“A… assii! Assii!”

And then it ran away.

Aszhii. He’d tried to say Aszhii. She was sure of it. It had recognized her.

That was probably Very Bad.

“Nestra?”

Fuck.. She couldn’t let a witness live. Mazingwe wouldn’t show up unless he detected a B-class. Nestra was on her own.

“After it!”

“What is happening? Is this normal?”

“For me yes. I’ll explain later. Please?”

Camille gave her a sidelong glance, but it was short lived.

“That better be a great one.”

“I promise!”

They gave chase. At first, the lizard gained distance on them because it was fast and using some nature mana bullshit to increase its pace. Nestra used momentum sparingly not to exhaust herself and because Camille was here too. Fear needled her. Fucking weird instincts taking over again and would it have killed Sereth to warn her for fuck’s sake. Why now? Also what did the lizards even know about the Aszhii? How, in fact, did they know enough to call her by her real identity? Assii was a mispronunciation of Aszhii for sure. Shit.

The two of them raced even faster, with Camille using barriers to just ignore the harsh terrain whenever it came up. After five minutes of intense chase, the lizard started to slow down. It fully ran out of juice as it collapsed into a clearing half a minute later but by then it was too late. Nestra barely had the time to push Camille to the side when a volley of javelins took out the trunk behind her. They came across a group of six lizards this time, including a large one with an elaborate spear. That one was darker. There were two major problems with this lizard, Nestra realized, as she kept charging in by pure inertia. One, it was B-class. Two, it had five belts and even a clearly human made backpack.

Carved Tusk tribe, collaborating with foes.

Something told her she’d just seen something she shouldn’t have.