"That's… that's…"
A twin with short, brown hair muttered under her breath. The other twin, with longer hair that reached her shoulders, replied with bated breath.
"How are we supposed to accuse him? Come up and ask him ourselves? I-isn't that too naive?"
Her eyes wavered, yet she never removed her gaze from Ciel's. Her taller body shielded the twin from behind, a hint that she was the older twin.
Moonlight caressed the sisters' skin, their huddling selves looking more pitiful.
"Oh." Ciel tilted her head with a flat retort. "So you knew already, and yet you protected him?"
"Well…"
Her lips pursed. This time, the younger twin's shoulders rose and snapped back.
"We couldn't be sure!" She clutched her chest as if it would snuggle her racing heartbeat.
"He acted weird. Shouted more often. And-and… strangely not attacked by shadebeasts…" Her voice drifted, threatening to wheeze into a whimper. "But he's our friend… how-how can a mere mimic…"
The younger twin's mutter turned into a directionless whine at the end.
Ciel swallowed a sigh. Watching her whimper, she couldn't sympathise, but the least she could do was respect.
"You." She turned to the older twin, not realising a graveness intruded into her soft voice.
"Did that… elf-" Ciel began, then noticed the twins flinched.
"Did that mimic lead you here?" She changed up her wording. "Think clearly. Voicing his thoughts. Taking the lead. Anything that led you here."
The older twin frowned. "You know how that Stormveil girl was close at the North, right?"
Ciel nodded.
"Well, he then led us here." She patted her sister with tentative strokes. "To escape from the stormveil, he suggested. That cat folk was slaughtering everyone in her path."
"And did he deliberately take the lead? Or stray from the group?"
"He... strayed a couple of times. This time, he led us to you guys." She let out a choked sound. "We thought he struck gold for us, but… well, this happens…"
A silence, of understanding and patience, enveloped the three in a mourning they never expected.
"Thank you." Ciel raised her staff. "Close your eyes, and hope we met each other without any… personal spite."
She paused, then added, "My condolences."
The younger twin let out a bitter laugh.
Blue rays flickered. Then two spires rose to the clouds to join the last.
Ciel watched. And just watched.
Then she turned only to find Quia, kneeling before the elf mimic, who lay flat on the grass.
Or at least what remained of him. The corpse was now unrecognisable from the neck up, missing a head that would identify him.
Quia clapped her palms together a few times in respect, then pressed them in a prayer.
Aware of Ciel's curiosity, Quia's shoulders hunched as she answered, tired.
"Not many bothered to know because they were so weak, but to kill a mimic, from vital parts like heart, pulse, or neck, to common methods like bleedout or burn."
She continued. "None of them would work. Only by smashing the brain would the motor function of the mimic collapse, and the slime inside the body would dissolve."
Ciel was aware. All of her mimic kills took the heads after all.
The elf's eyes scanned her fellow brethren's corpse, her scorn venomous.
"That's because the inside was mangled by pure liquid. Blood vessels. Organs. The slime occupied everything, but only forced the brain alive by some means to move the body."
She stood up, her back solemn and helpless. "So there were some that theorised: the brain was 'alive' when a mimic piloted a body, so could whoever belonged to the original body be 'revived' once possessed?"
The elf then shook her head.
"I never made these baseless assumptions though." She concluded. "Mimics were the lucky ones. I've met way worse than this in my days."
Her days as an adventurer? Ciel guessed but didn't ask.
Instead, she found her steps shuffling towards Quia, each heavy and careful as if afraid to alert the elf.
Then, with her arms open, she embraced Quia from behind, pressing her small body against the elf's firm back.
Quia shuddered, then a hand caught Ciel's that was placed on the arm.
"Silly." Quia mocked with a light sneeze. "I'm not hurt."
Ciel's eyelids fell.
She didn't know how to comfort. The least she could do was act and state facts.
"The academy staff had methods to restore the corpse to its original form and buried it properly."
Summer once buried herself with documents, and the very next day, Ciel killed her first mimic.
The papers were all procedures to bury, restore, and negotiate with the associated family about the student's corpse.
"Do not worry." Ciel hugged tighter. "Your kin will not be robbed of a proper end."
Their hug stretched for a long time, with Ciel's heart a strange void against her chest.
Nervous. Concerned. Maybe even worried.
Years of responding to crises robbed Ciel of these 'hesitations'. They resurfaced at times, but never within Ciel's control.
And in return, she could only 'empathise' with a calm detachment.
She was indifferent to her own life. But strangely, others' lives mattered to her, even if her very instinct denied it.
Ciel could see that now, even if a little.
But the self-reflection was soon cut short.
A rustle came from the forest, and tension snapped in the clearing that only Ciel and Quia occupied.
With her enhanced senses flaring, Ciel hesitated.
Should she run? No, this place that was near Miss Dragon's home was key to figuring out the mimics' intentions.
Run, and Miss Dragon may be tossed into some unwanted troubles.
Besides, she had full confidence that Quia would win any fight. At this stage, only the Stormveil would be potentially a true threat.
And while her senses definitely indicated many, not a single one of them would survive a moonblast.
She leapt back, her staff resummoned. Quia, having snapped out of her daze, joined Ciel to face the forest's shade.
The fireflies remained a safe green. No shadebeasts, but out from the trees emerged more silhouettes.
Three groups of humanoid stepped out from the shade.
A woman led the first group of two shield-and-axemen on Ciel's left.
The second group bundled together. All of their mouths were shaped like crocodiles'. They had thick hides as skins and glaring slits as eyes, all traits of the sturdy lizardmen.
The third was scattered with distrust. The group consisted of two humans, one wielding a one-handed scythe while the other a rusted pickaxe.
They did not need to share any words. All of them, Ciel knew, were attracted by the towering spires earlier.
But why so many groups? And all at the same time? It could only mean they were all close by when Ciel and Quia's fights erupted.
Ciel observed their vigilant gazes flickering over their wrists, identifying her and Quia.
Bloodlust brewed. Then, their gazes met each other again, caution snuffing out any careless malice.
And when Ciel's staff almost raised to break the stalemate-
A scream tore it apart first. From Ciel's left, the woman collapsed face-first, blood blooming across her torn back where her own axeman sliced across.
The second axeman froze in fear. A mistake, as another swing met his neck long after, a fountain of blood following the betrayer's wake.
A mimic here? Ciel's staff flashed to the four lizardmen in the middle, not sparing this chaos for its opportunity.
Blue ray fired, and one dropped with its head blackened.
The rest charged with furious roars, until the rearmost one dropped low, claws ripping through his brothers' knees. The pack buckled with confused groans, their heads soon following the same fate as the last.
On the right, another clash began. Scythe met pickaxe in a rough, amateurish exchange. The pick-wielder flinched under the scythe-strikes, failing to recover from his surprise.
The gears in Ciel's brain raced. Three betrayals, happening right before her at the same time.
Then, it clicked.
She must kill them now.
She had no idea why, but something huge would happen if she didn't kill them.
Yet as her staff aimed, the axeman lunged at her exposed left. A ferocious fury carried his momentum ahead, a departure from his emotionaless origin.
Ciel's senses blared. Her
She froze.
"Quite uncharacteristic of you to panic."
Quia's taunt, light and unusually casual, slipped into her ears.
The axeman tumbled afar with the impact. Strength left his struggling limbs as he took his last, desperate breath.
The glare, however, was locked tight onto Ciel's frame.
It was only then that Ciel realised herself with a defeated chuckle.
She felt relieved. 'Relieved'. When Quia saved her just now.
And so, the mimic's trap succeeded, starting with her 'hesitation'.
Not a second after, the scytheman defeated his partner, assisted by the lizardman, who defeated all his shaken teammates.
They marched, as Quia put up a fist with caution. She, unlike Ciel, did not recover well from three simultaneous betrayals.
The elf expected a battle. Some desperate, foolish suicidal attempts by, she would assume, the last two mimics.
But even then, it didn't make sense. Why would they not lure their teams to attack Ciel and her first? And instead just outright betrayed them at the start?
But before she could properly process everything-
Both of the betrayers kneeled.
Quia's lips gaped, quivering.
Ciel's figure towered over the mimics. Their heads hung further as they declared with a loud, ritualistic tone.
"We greet your highness, the Queen of the 45th Full Moon."
As if it were not enough, they proclaimed another.
"And we have marked Summer's location, as per the order from the Queen of Hunt."