“A hundred years ago, a cult worshipping a dark deity from outside of this world succeeded in ripping a hole in the fabric of space,” he said. “That’s when the invasion began.”
Demi’s eyes widened. “You mean that tag I keep seeing, ‘Enemy of this Planet,’ it literally means—”
“Yes,” he said shortly. “Those things are not of this world, and certainly enemies of it. When they poured through the rip, they brought their own logic with them.” He frowned, pressing his lips together thinly. Then he gathered himself and continued. “This world was lucky in that its logic is so different from the world the invaders came from that the most powerful entities could not survive here, at least not immediately. That’s when they began terraforming this world to suit themselves.”
“Oh, oh no,” Demi said, realizing. “All of these horrible invasive species, the diseases and parasites—”
“That’s all a part of it, yes,” he agreed. “We call them invaders, or abominations. The invaders consume all biological material they encounter and use it to replicate beings that are like themselves. Since they are unfamiliar with this world and not suited to living here, they copy the biology of the creatures of this world, imitating it, or even use the corpses of their prey to directly construct their bodies. Everything is a means of changing the nature of this world so it suits the invaders,” he said quietly. Then he closed his eyes briefly. “This world was not prepared for the invasion. As you might have surmised, previous to the invasion it was a peaceful place. There have been conflicts in the past, but largely, this world is amiable and pleasant, and the logic of this place keeps it so. Even the monsters in this world are relatively tame and easygoing, and almost always remain in dungeons or in their own designated fields.”
“Right,” Demi said, as she thought over the pictures of slimes and other monsters that she had seen in the pages of various books from the lending library. They had all, almost without exception, been extremely cute and charming. Even the spooky monsters were somehow cute. Zombies, ghosts, and lunatics in hockey masks carrying chainsaws were all extremely cute.
It was hard to square the images of those creatures away with either the parasitic thing that had tried to burrow into Aelfric’s intestines, or the horrible monstrosity that she had so recently disposed of.
“We call places where the invaders have gained a foothold ‘blightwoods,’ although not all of them are forests. It differs depending on the climate and the terrain, but it was in the forests where they first took root, so all such places are called blightwoods,” he explained.
“Outside of blightwoods, larger abominations have difficulty surviving,” he said, waving his hand briefly as if warding away a terrible smell. “But things like molds, bacteria, and the seeds of their anchor species still spread. Inside the woods, larger, more complex abominations can grow more freely. Trapped inside the borders of the wood, they feed on one another, and on whatever the blightwood can drag into itself. Over time, most woods become the nest of a single powerful abomination, one that has devoured all of the rest of the contenders.”
“Like a kodoku,” Demi said in surprise, drawing her hand to her mouth. “A curse jar.”
“Yes,” Aelfric agreed grimly. “Very much like a kodoku.” He leaned back slightly in his chair. “Once a single large animal-type invader takes control of a wood, they begin reproducing copies of themselves as parasitic organisms. They were the most successful predator, after all.” He laughed bitterly. “Abominations birthed and grown in this world, even inside the blightwoods, have a much greater tolerance to it than those from outside. They can survive for some time outside of blightwoods, although they are most comfortable inside of them. Their ability to hunt outside of blightwoods and to range across territory in attempts to seed new ones makes them one of the most dangerous threats that this planet faces.”
He shook his head. “The older those things get, the more intelligent they become. In the beginning, they are little more than mindless consumers, but as they survive, they learn, and they become more able to engage with the logic of this world, to shape it to their own ends. This is particularly true if they manage to consume the intact brains of sentient beings. This makes people their highest priority target.”
Those heads on stalks, Demi thought, feeling mildly queasy. Those heads on stalks were the intact brains it had eaten.
“Once an invader infects another being with a parasite produced from its main body, it will hunt that person until it can be fully consumed and drawn into the amalgam, or until that being is subsumed and begins metamorphosis,” he continued.
“That’s what you meant when you warned me that it would come for you,” she said softly.
“Yes,” he agreed. “Although it became inescapable in my case, infestation is not always so clear. A person might not even be aware that they have contracted a parasite. One infected individual can bring an invader down on an entire group, even if they are otherwise well hidden. In the case of parasitization, the most responsible course of action is self-immolation. A high enough temperature is effective in destroying the parasite.”
“What happened to you?” Demi asked in concern, leaning forward. She still did not fully understand the situation in the world, but at that moment, she was more concerned with Aelfric himself. Something about the way he looked when he talked about all of this—it was dry and clinical and he had the pose of being removed from the situation, but she could feel it there, roiling under the calm surface.
Something had happened to him.
He had survived much.
“I went south,” he answered shortly, then shook his head, drawing his hand to his face again. He brushed his hair back and cleared his throat.
“The princess-king became concerned that the situation on the southern border might have ramifications for Prystir, so she sent me to investigate,” he explained. “That was around two months ago.”
“Wait,” Demi said, confused. “I thought she sent you to Cradle, to wait for me.”
His brows drew together again and he nodded.
“That is correct. She called me back,” he agreed. He paused, apparently debating whether to continue. At last, he said, “The princess-king is young and under a great deal of pressure.”
She panicked, Demi realized, reading between the lines of his words.
“I went to investigate the situation in the south, and you arrived during my absence,” he explained, then closed his eyes, his brows drawing together. “Things along the southern border are extreme, and it was much more volatile than our intelligence suggested. The princess-king’s intuitions were right. Annarrow has been concealing the severity of the situation. That is how I came to encounter the abomination.”
“The Grizzlyuck!” Demi interjected, feeling quite inspired. The name absolutely fit, she thought. After all, it was too cumbersome to just keep thinking of it as “the bear-elk monstrosity.”
The thing had made her ill just looking at it, and not merely because it had been grotesque, but more because it had felt wrong when she looked at it. Now that she understood a little bit more about what it was, she found it even more horrible. It wasn’t simply a disgusting horror that had tried to kill her or Aelfric. It was a disgusting horror that was attempting to kill practically everything on the entire planet.
And again, that knowledge made her angry.
It made her angry enough that she wanted to fight the thing again, right now.
But her seething was interrupted by Aelfric, who said, “Excuse me?” his brows drawn together.
“The Grizzlyuck,” Demi repeated confidently. “That’s what I named it.”
“I—” He paused, apparently unsure of what to say to that declaration. “I gathered that.” He brought his hand to his forehead briefly and seemed to be pinching the bridge of his nose. When he looked at her again, he said, “It’s classified as Atragith Holoparasite Parent-Core, Grade: Commander, Rank A.”
Well, that’s even more cumbersome to say than “bear-elk thing,” she immediately thought, but she waved her hand gently.
“That’s nice,” she said mildly. “But it makes it feel much less scary if we give it a name like ‘Grizzlyuck,’ don’t you think?”
“I—” Aelfric began again, clearly uncertain. “I suppose. But please don’t expect me to call it that.”
“That’s rosey-posey to me,” she agreed amiably.