Changeling

“So this is the pit.”

Nestra looked around with curiosity. The Palladian clan often mentioned this repeating portal world as a cakewalk assignment, one that was both lucrative and easy, considering their power. It was a very strong D-class one, and it had the peculiarity of being circular with the exit portal in the middle. The path started up, right under a cliff of jagged rocks under a sky of perpetual yellow clouds. It led down in a clockwise path, sometimes over barren rock, sometimes over patches of deep white sand and down to a central arena, also covered in sand. The place smelled vaguely of sulfur. It was also the second most intense mana concentration human Nestra had ever felt (after the regrettable hide-under-an-ant-corpse incident).

Mom was waiting for her near the entrance. Neat piles of bleeding carcasses littered the path, stacked two Nestras high. The creature looked like a mix between giant moles and antlions with an exoskeleton and very prominent front teeth. They were only valuable as feed since they apparently tasted rather terrible. The mana-infused sand was the portal’s treasure. It was stripped-mined every session, then used in fancy glass-making and luxury construction. Nestra frowned.

“Did you leave me any?”

“I told you we would go over the basics and we will go over the basics, my young daughter,” Mom replied with some annoyance.

Despite the ease of the portal, she was still wearing her mage robes.

“Not so young now…” Nestra grumbled.

“Young in the way of the portal worlds,” Mom insisted. “We will take it slow. Or are you going back on your promise to be careful?”

“Nope, and I would not have tried without you present,” Nestra shamelessly lied.

Nestra had a quick look down the sand arena where the tougher enemies and the guardian awaited. The mana concentration would be higher there. Killing an enemy would also load her core with mana which would make the process so much easier…

The landscape was replaced by a pair of very blue eyes crossed by electric arcs.

“I’m going! I’m going!” Nestra said, throwing her hands up in the air.

She sat her armored ass on a nearby rock and adopted a lotus position. With her eyes closed, she focused on her core and mana channels.

The outer pressure was pushing against her skin. Higher gleams could draw mana in but at her level, being in a saturated environment was enough. Slowly, she allowed the mana into her, then slowly drew it into her core to feed it. Since she had no practice with it, it felt like pushing dense smoke into a hole with a bad fan.

Her Aszhii self had no need for such zen nonsense. She killed, she absorbed, and then she moved on. Humans really had it rough. They had to consciously work at it. The horror!

“It seems to be working,” A voice said near her ear.

It was close enough to tickle.

“Ngah! Too close! You’re the one who told me to meditate properly!”

“Hmmm. You have the hang of it. You’ll need more practice before I can introduce advanced breathing routines, Nestra, so let’s switch to spellcasting. Our time together is precious.”

“Yes!”

Mom went to stand in the middle of the path. She put her hands on her hips. This brought back unfortunate memories of being caught raiding the cookie cache.

“What do you remember of structured magic?”

“You use the alphabet of symbols called ‘keys’ found in the ‘Grande Biblioteca’ portal world in Rome – Ow!”

A stone hand clanged against Nestra’s chest piece. She didn’t feel more than a light push but it was more a matter of principle.

“Not ‘you’, ‘we’. You will learn them again, and then we will proceed with the simple spell that will be the basis of your fighting style. Do you remember how to cast a spell?”

“Arrange the keys in my head and think very hard about the outcome?”

“Yes! Yes, it’s like… programming but also like music.”

Nestra remained impassive.

“I already told you this, didn’t I?” Mom asked.

“First thing you said when I turned six.”

“Well, to be fair, it was some time ago. Now, some clans or guilds favor large, complex spells and for large-scale raids and battles, it’s better. Same with people who use exotic mana types and prefer custom spells. We Palladians specialize in small squad, speed, control, and versatility so for us the faster, the cleaner, the better. Alright?”

“Short and sweet, got it.”

“You want a small catalog of versatile spells you can cast in your sleep, not giant ice pillars that smash down from the heavens two minutes after the battle has ended.”

“What about the, err, zero aura?”

Mom frowned a bit, her head turning to the side.

“Where did you hear that?”

“The examiner for my license. We had a spar and I accidentally used it on him.”

“Show me,” Mom demanded.

Nestra focused again. She grabbed her ice mana and pushed it outwards and against her skin. At first, nothing happened, but then the temperature dropped, and her breath fogged in the air even though she couldn’t feel the cold herself.

“Interesting. A bit too focused on the upper body but I suppose it’s to be expected,” her mom commented like she’d been dressing a salmon and not violating the laws of thermodynamics through strength of will.

“This is a skill, the raw, shaped use of mana preferred by strikers and tanks and the like. The fact you managed it yourself is very encouraging. Zero Aura is a Polaris guild term, that’s why I was curious. It slows molecular motion around you. At higher potency, water particles will freeze in the air, creating rather deadly white fog. It will linger but by the same logic, it will stay behind so on a moving battlefield, it won’t be useful. Shockwaves and wind can disperse it as well.”

“Aw.”

“It remains a very powerful tool against slow and massive opponents,” Mom amended. “I am not trying to discourage you; I am merely reminding you of the limits of certain techniques so you know which one will work well and which one should be left for another day. Knowing when to use a technique is just as important as knowing how to use the technique. Perhaps even more.”

“So it can grow stronger?”

Mom chuckled.

“Of course, silly child. It is called the ‘Zero’ aura because the goal is to bring it as close as possible to the absolute zero, the full cessation of any motion. Final entropy. But maybe we’ll start with a basic armor spell. The ice armor spell is a staple of close-range mages and ice-aligned fighters. Do you remember why it’s good?”

“It has high flux during casting but low flux while holding which makes it efficient and resilient. It also freezes whatever hits it.”

“Very good. There is a third advantage but it’s more on the conceptual level and you might need some time before pulling it off. Contact with ice that you are actively channeling can slow and weaken most enemies. It’s useful for long fights.”

“I see.”

“The runes are ‘cover’, ‘self’, and ‘protect’. Do you remember them?”

“Absolutely not.”

The Grande Biblioteca symbols looked a bit like keys designed by a neurotic artist. Most of the time they were represented vertically with the handle on top, though their positions in enchantments depended on function. They had commonalities that made remembering them a little easier. For example: lava resembled stone, fire and heat, but stone and heat had little in common. The keys for actions, nouns, and adjectives have similarities in the ‘handles’. It could be worse but it was still an alien system and a massive pain in the ass to learn. What her mom didn’t know was that Nestra had already started to study this in Shinran’s secret training base. The base liked to build proper basics though, so Nestra had just learnt to recognize more complex patterns instead of practicing them herself. Nestra actually remembered the keys but she didn’t want to let her mom know.

“Like this.”

Frozen patterns appeared on the ground in front of Nestra. Mom’s control was impressive.

“Try it.”

Nestra did. After bringing forth ice mana, she formed the patterns in her mind which was easy considering they were written right in front of her. Magic formed a tiny cloud around her with ‘cover’, then with ‘self’, it drew closer to her body with the speed of a sullen kindergartner. At ‘protect’, the mana became incredibly sluggish as it crystallized to protect her. Nestra almost lost control of the spell when her armor guided its energies over it like, absorbing them in prepared spots. She heard creaks, and felt cool.

When Nestra opened her eyes, her armor was a dirty off white with a craggy appearance, except, it wasn’t her armor, but a protective layer above. Mom’s armor was blueish and pristine like a fairy tale dress while Nestra’s was pitted and jagged. There were even nubs that sharpened into short spikes. The spell remained at the back of her head, active and feeding off her.

“Good,” Mom said. “Low flux constructs like this one can be dropped and picked again if it hasn’t been too long. That means even if you get distracted and lose the spell, so long as its manifestation hasn’t melted or taken too much damage, you can reconnect with it. It will allow you to continuously repair it. Try it now.”

Nestra did as Mom asked. It was easy because she wasn’t fighting and the armor itself was intact. It almost wanted to reconnect. When Nestra reached for it, the spell jumped into her consciousness. She fed it more mana and the air around her grew white and hazy.

“That is enough,” Mom said. “You barely have enough reserves right now. Even a basic spell such as this one will tax you. We will spend the rest of the session meditating here.”

“Wouldn’t it be faster to kill something together?”

“You’ll get your chance to kill monsters, larger raid daughter, but the creatures here are very dangerous for D-class. Let’s get you started with something less dangerous.”

Nestra frowned.

Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

“Is Helena ‘smaller daughter’ then?”

“I used to call her scrawny but apparently it makes teenagers insecure.”

“That it does.”

“I haven’t been one for sixty years so my memory is a little hazy. Enough delays. On your butt, close your eyes, and drink that mana.”

“Wouldn’t it be faster with ice mana?”

“Shut up and meditate.”

***

Helena and Nestra reached the window where a tired low-level government employee waited. He was a short Asian man, quite overweight though his uniform was too large and his skin sallow, like he’d recently lost weight.

“Hello! We’re here to register a class-D guild,” Nestra said, taking the initiative.

“Welcome, and hello to you too. Have you done the online registration part?”

They had. Some of the more sensitive administrative tasks in Threshold required someone showing up in person. Such was the case for minor guilds because of the tax breaks they’d be getting. It was just too easy to cheat. The man briefly checked their ID before confirming their scope and other things. Really, it was just a formality.

“I am a bit unclear as to what you mean when in the portal world selection preferences where you said: ‘the worst’,” he asked.

The two sisters looked at each other.

“Just that. The purpose of the Little People League is to take on the jobs people don’t want to do because they’re risky and pay little, before the incidents start happening. So yeah, send us the bad ones,” Nestra summarized.

“We can find the good ones on our own time thanks to our family’s guild,” Helena added.

The man nodded before making a long note. He then took a longing look at an empty chocolate box on his desk before shaking his head and taking a big gulp of water instead.

“Right. So there are bad portals we do struggle to find people for. Do you prefer seaside or forest side?”

“Forest side,” Nestra replied.

“There’s also a few wandering monsters rumors, mostly dokkaebi from the damage but we get some plausible eye witness accounts. Would you be interested as well?”

“No wild goose chases,” Nestra said, but Helena had a different idea.

“Sure, send them if they look promising. Come on, Nes. You got a cool roadster! What’s the point if we can’t drive?”

Nestra considered the situation. She was here to help.

“Fair enough.”

“One last thing. Do you have a banner for the guild?”

“We do,” Helena said, beaming with pride.

She transferred a small image to the official. Nestra opened it as well.

It was a cartoonish and decidedly cute version of Sashimi showing her teeth, the ‘secret member’ of the League.

“Everything’s in order,” the employee eventually said. “Congratulations! Pending final approval, your first raid will be within three days. For the first raid and a random few afterward, a city user will accompany you to make sure there aren’t any mishaps. This is compulsory because you are both very junior. As a reminder, Helena Palladian may not raid without a guardian before she obtains her certification.”

“I’ll get it in a couple of days!”

The two exited the Beacon soon afterward. Helena was a buzz of enthusiasm. It looked like she’d even manage to interest a few of her school friends.

“I have this other ice user, and a blaster mage I work well with who said they might be into it. We can all have pizza afterward! Oh, oh, and a weekly cash prize for those who pulled the shittiest assignments. Hey, you think I can put this on my resume?”

“After we get a few missions under our belts? Absolutely.”

“Yes! Another selling point! I’m going to lure so many of the naive fuckers.”

Nestra just hoped there wouldn’t be too many sewer missions.

***

Nestra lounged on her Aszhii pillow pile, checking her messages. The Little People League’s registration had been accepted. Their first raid would be two days from now in an infamously low paying area of the city — just like they’d asked. Another message was from Special Affairs confirming her indefinite leave (without pay) while she underwent retraining in a private setting. Nestra could have gotten full benefits if she had joined the army for her service but that just meant spending weeks going over stuff she knew very well. Also, she didn’t like people. Or having to hide her true form for months. Or getting orders from weaker people than her. Or getting orders in general. And the food was notoriously shit.

It would be fine. The raids would pay for themselves. Even the bad ones. At one per day she could hope for eighteen grand a month! And those were just the human raids. After living so much of her life making baseline wages, gleam pay was a life changer. Insane difference if one didn’t mind the risk of dying.

Valerian had replied to her offer to join the League. He was actually ok with it, but he was also asking her to accompany him to an important family event for the next day.

“It’s very important,” he said. “Can you be at the arcology’s entrance at 1PM?”

“Sure,” Nestra replied. “I'll be there.”

She’d just have to move one of her training sessions but that sounded very important anyway. Making a note, she frowned when her motion sensor picked up movement.

She was at the security console a moment later. A hooded figure was approaching her house at a fast if awkward pace. He was carrying a small metal case that was suspicious as hell. Something about his fearful demeanor felt familiar.

“What the—”

Nestra’s door exploded inward. She raced towards her sword rack at a dead sprint. Someone appeared in front of her. Golden eyes. White, futuristic armor she recognized as US-made. She used momentum to move past but the light user was simply too fast for her. She was grabbed by the neck, slammed down on the rug. He pushed her arm into a lock, painfully high against her back. She hissed. Fucking light users were so damn fast that they countered her perfectly. And she recognized that one.

“Hurry,” Doctor Daniels told his assistant.

The fearful man rushed towards Nestra, opening the case which contained an array of testing equipment.

“We wanted to keep it above ground, demon girl, but you leave us no choice. The salvation of the human race trumps any other concern,” the white-armored asshole said.

“You’re fucking insane,” she hissed. “Diplomatic immunity won’t cover this one.”

His response was fast and full of fervor.

“You and all the impure mana-touched are so self-centered that you forget that humans are capable of something called sacrifice, altruism, enduring for the greater good. Even if we are caught before we can fly out, I will make sure the sample analysis is sent out before we are captured. You are the end of the line, the natural conclusion of all the so-called transformation powers and we will prove it, prove that you lot are the path to damnation. You are only the first of your kind.”

Well, he wasn’t entirely wrong there.

“Overestimating your abilities a bit,” Nestra huffed while the assistant tried to pull back the Skin which had formed under her lounger wear. He wasn’t having any success.

“Just draw from her hand,” Daniels barked.

From her position against the ground, she could see the needle of a very large syringe. She couldn’t use passe-muraille right now since she was being held. Momentum didn’t work if she wasn’t moving at all. If this hadn’t been her home she’d have been in trouble.

“You should be pleased that our research will show the path to salvation for us all, but I suppose notions like this are foreign to you, demon girl. I see you’re calm. You may think reinforcements will come in time which means you activated some sort of alarm. Maybe they will, but it will not help you. I am strong. Thresholders think they have the best raiders on the planet and perhaps you do, but you’re scattered, fragmented. You do not understand unity or a common purpose. Your city is a Babel of arrogance and selfishness. If I have to be left behind for Nichols to fly off, I will.”

The doctor had successfully drawn her blood and he was now grabbing some material.

“You sure love the sound of your own voice.”

“Is that all you have to say?” he replied with manic amusement.

Right. Nestra had what she wanted. Those two were lone wolves and they intended to leave the city by plane this very night. She wouldn’t get more than that.

“No, there is something more. Sea Wiz,” Nestra replied.

“Ah, I’m finally getting a proper read on her,” the assistant exclaimed.

“See what?” Daniels asked with a chuckle.

“See-wiz”

“DEFENSE SYSTEMS ACTIVE.”

“What the—”

The loudest fart imaginable would have deafened Nestra were it not for her sensory resistances. As it was, her wall of suspended rhododendrons, coat hanger, and the actual brick wall behind it were torn to shreds while she did her best to remain very, very still. A shower of debris ranging from pulverized bricks to mortar filled the room all around her. It barely lasted for a second but it left the front of Nestra’s warehouse den poked like cheese, with lights blinking weakly in the dusty air. Even with her monstrous resistances, she still felt like she’d been ran over by a pack of buffalos just from the air displacement.

“INTRUDERS NEUTRALIZED.”

“Ow. Thanks. Deactivate.”

“ACKNOWLEDGED.”

Nestra sat up. Her arms were still firmly held by gloved hands but the grappling position was much less effective now that they were no longer attached to a torso. She brushed herself, then looked around. The naval cannon had shed its tarp which hadn’t survived the blast. Its muzzle shone red. It was also, Nestra thought, the most glorious piece of fucking gear she’d ever witnessed.

“You beautiful bastard you,” she whispered adoringly in Aszhii.

As for the intruders, the diagnosis was easy.

“Chunky salsa. Ew.”

It was going to cost her a fucking fortune to get them off her rug. Shit, the naval cannon at point blank range was capable of taking down a B-class gleam! A good reminder never to underestimate dozens of 20mm tungsten rounds traveling at above one kilometer per second.

Then she realized she’d just pasted two gleams on a diplomatic passport.

“Ugh, this is going to be such a pain.”

With a last sigh of annoyance, she grabbed her secured phone and dialed a number. To her surprise, the call was picked up immediately.

“Lindstrom speaking. This better be urgent.”

“The two American assholes who wanted samples of me, remember? They smashed through my front door to get them.”

“Dammit, I’m on my way. They’re gonna regret it!”

“Ah, that is to say, my home defense system disposed of them.”

There was a very, very long silence, which was even more telling because A-class gleams could think really fast.

“Excuse me?”

“They’re dead.”

“Dead, dead? Even the B-rank one? Are you sure? They can withstand a lot of punishment.”

“You’ll need a spatula to scrape him off my floor.”

Nestra didn’t understand what Rangarok said next but she decided that Swedish was such a beautiful language.

***

“We’re going to need to take the naval gun away,” Ragnhild said in a vaguely annoyed voice.

The technicians worked quietly. They’d been very loud and unprofessional about the crime scene first until Aszhii Nestra had hissed at one from under her mask. A fucking loser was getting close to her kitchen which was spotless, and therefore didn’t need to be messed with. Same for her weapons rack and her bed.

On the diplomatic level, the situation was so complex that Shinran had shown up. Nestra wasn’t in trouble. There was a recording of her front door being smashed in by a white-armored blur and said white armor on the corpse of dearly departed Doctor Daniels. There was a recording of the hooded form of his assistant getting in with a case, and the body of said assistant inside, with the case open. Though damaged, many measuring instruments were instantly recognizable. The fact they’d wanted samples and been refused was fully recorded in Threshold’s systems with emails they’d sent themselves. The final touch was that Daniels and his goon were not alive to present their version of the event. If anything, the rest of the American diplomats in Threshold were in hot water. Oh, they wouldn’t be expelled or anything, but Threshold would make its annoyance known. Nestra’s status as victim was pure as snow which wouldn’t help with the CIWS situation.

“What do you mean, take it away?” Nestra asked, scandalized.

The techs froze before picking up the pace. Shinran held his peace. He probably didn’t want to interfere with Ragnarok while she was pretending to dispense justice, the tyrannical wench.

“This is a ship weapon, Crescent, albeit an antique one. Why do you even have this here?”

“Home protection.”

“That is not a home protection system!” Ragnarok replied, her voice rising.

“It protected my house and therefore it’s a house protection system!”

“The bullets blew through three warehouses, Crescent. Someone could have gotten hurt!”

“I would have gotten hurt without it. No one ever visits those warehouses. Look, anything that can disable me can’t be brought down with tasers so obviously I’d need something with a bit of an oomph, no?”

“Crescent, I don’t know how you got this thing to begin with—”

“Perfectly legally,” Nestra insisted.

“But this is military grade equipment that shouldn’t be in the hands of an individual!”

“By that logic you’re an individual! I’m a C-class gleam with enemies, and they tried to harvest my fucking blood, dammit! That gun is the only thing that protected me!”

Ragnarok took a deep, calming breath.

“You can’t keep something that blasts holes through an entire city block and that’s final.”

Nestra was about to explode, but she grew cold instead. Crossing her arms, she replied as calmly as she could.

“Very well.”

“You’re going to replace it with something even worse, are you not?”

“My life is at risk. I will protect myself, one way or another.”

“How about moving to a government-protected facility?”

“You can kiss my gray ass.”

Ragnarok’s eyes narrowed. The entire staff of techs froze where they were.

“Crescent, you’re out of line.”

“That is to say I kindly decline your ‘generous’ offer. I’m perfectly fine where I am with the level of protection I currently have, and I don’t need any help. I just need you to finish and leave so I can start with the repairs.”

Ragnarok glared, but Nestra had righteous anger on her side. It was at that moment that Shinran took a step forward.

“Perhaps Crescent can keep it if she reinforces her walls with enchantments and promises to use ammunition that does not punch through several meters of concrete…”

“I can do that,” Nestra agreed with a nod.

“There. And she is right, she does need to protect herself, but more importantly, she needs to be able to protect her identity.”

The two A-class shared a glance. Ragnarok wanted Nestra hidden because she was her scalpel, and possibly the only person who could one day equal Shinran in pure bullshit power. Shinran wanted her hidden because she was an Aszhii whose big brother could raze the city to the ground. Hell, as far as she knew, he still didn’t know her civilian identity even though it would be as easy as checking whose name the warehouse was under. Either way, Nestra had what she wanted. She retired to the pillow pile while the techs packed up. She sent a few messages but her first call was to Gorge.

“Hey,” she said as a way of greeting.

“What’s up? You almost always message.”

“Some twats crashed my place. Do you know someone who can do brick wall repair?”

“How bad is it?”

“The naval cannon fired. Front wall is Swiss cheese.”

Gorge whistled.

“Yeah I know a guy. Gonna take a week though, and twenty thousand creds give or take?”

“Can they reinforce it with mana?”

Gorge sighed. It wasn’t a good sign.

“You’re gonna need some Touhei contractors and it’s gonna cost you a hundred thousand for the basic package.”

“Fuck it. I’ll call them. I’m not moving. This is my den, hssssss.”

This was going to put her in debt. Nothing too bad but she’d been running on low reserves to feed the Skin. It didn’t really make sense for her to invest when she was always one blunder away from having to leave the city. Or indeed, mankind.

“One last thing. I need a shipment of alternative ammo for the cannon. High-explosive incendiary.”

“Nestra, are you getting door-to-door missionary kaiju?”

“They told me I needed something that doesn’t go through too many walls so that’s what I’m getting.”

“Yeah because the walls will be blown to pieces, and also, on fire?”

“My word is my bond. I still have the license anyway. Let’s say, five hundred rounds?”

“You are insane. Seven creds a round. I’m giving you a discount because of the volume, so thirty-two hundred total.”

“Much appreciated. See you later.”

Her next call was to Stibbs. Her explanation was direct and to the point so she could indulge in gloating before the inevitable return call from a certain message.

“And they thought they could just barge in and steal my vital fluids for their nefarious research, but little did they know, I was prepared! People always underestimate Clytemnestra Palladian, and then I either send them to prison or I have to power wash them off my curtains!”

“You don’t have curtains.”

“That’s a figure of speech, Stibbs. Bear with me! Anyway, one more foe to bite the dust thanks to my cunning and wondrous foresight. Oh, shit, she’s calling.”

“I was about to say, I’m surprised you’re still at your home.”

“Won’t last. Ugh.”

Nestra stood up to grab her luggage as she picked up on her visor.

“Clytemnestra Palladian,” a sweet voice said.

“Hi mom.”

“What do you mean by burglars? And why are they dead?”

“Well…”

“Less than a week after a train terrorist attack and you’re under assault in your own home? What is wrong with this city! I have sent the car. You will pack, and you will return IMMEDIATELY—”

“Yeah yeah…”

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