The Stained Tower

---

A few days later, I am staring into the Foggy Forest, watching dozens of insects scurry away and disappear into the sea of green ferns. These are all insects collected from the chamber pot tunnels over the duration of the quest. It’s uncertain if they will survive or not, but we know a bit about their habits and demeanors thanks to the researchers who have spent their time observing and caring for them.

“Hey, Miss Nightingale.” Hearing Noah’s voice, I glance to the side and find him standing next to me with pursed lips. Three of the escorts were sent by Terra to guard the researchers and me, and over the past couple of days, Noah has become more relaxed around me. That seems to be shared amongst people nowadays—everyone’s quick to informality. “I’m not trying to go above my station here, but aren’t we moving too fast?”

I understand Noah’s concern, but after a lot of contemplation, I concluded that it’s time. Mainly because I judged that I have no other real options besides the insects. Instead, I will be swapping focus to threat mitigation, essentially, methods of eliminating problem beasts. That is not what I wanted to do, but with Terra gaining more control of the Galtry Syndicate, she assured me she could help if I cannot handle it some other way.

Pulling the whiteboard from beneath my arms, I write, “More than anyone, I would love to learn everything we could possibly know beforehand, but we do not have the time for such a protracted luxury.”

Raising an eyebrow, he asks, “Sooo, we’re sorta gambling because of time constraints? Is that safe?”

Before I may respond, Byron walks up. Byron’s face is pale from his recovery after being exposed to the haze a few days earlier, but he should be fully recovered in another day or so. Taking a breath to clear his throat, he says, “We have taken precautions and have only released females from species we have observed for at least forty-eight hours. Now that they’re roaming freely, we’ll observe them for the next seventy-two hours before considering the possibility of releasing any males.”

“You guys would know better than me, I guess.” There’s a shrill hiss at the edge of the forest. Noah glances behind him where two insects have stopped and begun fighting one another. “It, uh, just feels like we’re releasing a lot of bugs, and we’re all locked in here with them... but yeah, I’m just trying to do what I’ve been ordered to do and keep everyone out of harm's way.”

“Thou art doing very well, and I appreciate thy dedication.” I erase the board and glance at the researchers who are watching the battling insects, and then write, “Rest assured that we are taking precautions, but I still ask that thou remain watchful. Despite our best efforts, the unexpected can still occur.”

“Yeah, you and I both know that the unexpected can happen at any time.” He waves at the burns on his face, shakes his head, and chuckles. Turning away, he marches off while waving his arms at some more researchers. “Alright, you’re probably good to open the next set of cages.”

More insects scurry from their cages.

---

That night, I sit at the glass table in the highest room of my Tower, the room known as the Mistress’s Chamber. In one hand, I hold Fey’s Kiln,  and in the other, I grip a long, sharp glass skewer I made with Mana Crunch. With meticulous movements, I poke the skewer into the inside of Fey’s Kiln and prod at the white-hot flint adhered to the interior.

‘Fey, with all the time I am wasting on thou, I pray thou art an agreeable Kiln. Though working on thy shell is oddly relaxing, I shall admit.’

A fragment of flint sloughs away from the shell’s wall. With the skewer, I pin the loose fragment against the side of the shell. If it slips away, it could snuff Fey’s flame, killing her. 

Turning the shell over and receiving the assistance of gravity, I start breaking down the fragment of flint using the skewer. An hour passes until the flint is broken apart enough that I can pull it out through the crack in the shell. I draw the sharp skewer through the fracture and swap it for a second skewer I made. The difference being this one had a flat, spoon-like end.

Another hour passes as I scoop out the debris and create a small pile of crushed flint on the table. ‘Such a slow process. It’s going to take quite a few sessions of this to break all the flint apart and remove it.’ 

With my patience exhausted and my mind relaxed, I wave my hand, scattering several black copepods that have taken residence upon the table.

Propping up my chin with my arm, I stare out the big glass window and gaze toward Cherry Hill, where Terra’s RVs are all placed. There I see dozens of men roaming the area, and as far as I can tell, the old commoner guards have either been dismissed or redressed. Regardless, the men have seemingly been reporting to the broad-chested, red-haired Lorcan for their commands. Everything indicates that Terra’s plan has been successful, and the ‘drug branch’ of the Galtry Syndicate now answers to her. Which Noah already told me, but still, I worry.

My thoughts shift to Mithridates and what I witnessed in the chamber pot tunnels a few days ago. I tap the skewer against the table while shaking my head.

“Statement: This one wishes to reassure the Mistress those feelings are normal.”

{I do not know what thou art referring to,} I reply, stopping the skewer with a shrill thunk.

“Observation: The Mistress is angry at the Kiln Mithridates. The Mistress feels violated. All Kiln are territorial, but some can be more naturally territorial than others. The Mistress may be one of those Kiln, so it would be normal to feel that way.”

{Naturally territorial?} Watching some children touch the side of the Tower with their fingertip, and then running away, I nod. {...Just after planting my seed, I felt similar when people were near the seed. That disappeared after a while. It’s a bit stronger this time.} 

“Statement: The Mistress sees the human fleshies differently now. Mistress has grown used to their presence in the Domain.”

The two disappear toward Frisbee Hill. {Earl, what dost thou mean ‘differently?’}

“Inquiry: Doesn’t the Mistress have the memory of a life where things were always left behind or taken away? Couldn’t that lead to Mistress being more protective of the land and fleshie cattle that rightfully belongs to Mistress? In the same vein, wouldn’t a fleshie farmer be upset that a wolf is trying to steal its fleshling livestock?”

{...I do wish thou wouldst stop making it sound so malicious.}

I shake my head. {What was it Mithridates was doing? What were those boats? What was being done to those spirits?}

I can hear Earl’s nails tap against the lantern as she thinks. “Answer: Unlike Mistress, the Kiln Mithridates has seemingly prioritized a material Domain over a spiritual one. This one theorizes that the boats were the Domain’s nodes and the spirits a power source. Once the power source was triggered it looked to activate the nodes which began creating the black flies as a defense. The ‘white-headed flies’ on the other hand looked to be the Kiln Mithridates method of Essence leeching…” 

She clicks her tongue, and the tapping of her nails becomes more pronounced. “Admission: Frustratingly, this one admits that this one doesn’t know how the spirits are being utilized in the nodes, nor how the Kiln Mithridates’s Interface is entrapping the spirits. Excluding a Kiln’s birth reaping it’s very difficult to create enough spiritual pressure to bind a spirit, like the Mistress did to Roanoke. Especially, at a point that is equivalent to the Mistress’s sprout stage.” 

{So the spirits, including that woman's, were being used for nothing but his nodes… Is there a way for us to learn more?}

“Recommendation: To learn more, Mistress should devour one of the fermented flesh carcasses that were encapsulated by the boats… Or one of the ‘white-headed flies’ could possibly be enough too.”

{Aye, so either I steal and eat a putrefied corpse, or I nibble a single fly? I believe I know which one I shall be consuming.} Twirling the skewer in my hazy fingers, I watch a young couple staring at their reflections in a shard of glass that pierces the earth and snow. {The medical tent assured me they would preserve the maggots removed from the expeditioneer’s bodies. I should have asked Byron to bring them but forgot after getting too focused on the Wretched Rat’s body after Mithridates.}

“Reminder: The Mistress hasn’t decided on an adaptation from the choices this one recommended. This one thinks the Mistress should select the one we discussed.”

{I am aware.} The couple kiss and then rush away, seemingly laughing. {How long can I wait before the adaptation disappears?}

“Answer: This one can preserve the adaptation’s utility for ten days if that’s what the Mistress wishes this one to do.”

{Then it can wait. I think I have already decided to take that one, but I believe it’s better to wait. Many things require my attention before they can get underway, and until then, they are just sitting idle.} Snow flurries begin to fall outside the window. My gaze moves to the nodes around my Tower. {I have been neglecting my Domain; I do not even know how Nodes work... Once Fairy’s Pantry is open, I will turn my attention outward...}

Thinking over Earl’s words, a fleeting notion passes through my mind. It was only a second, but it does not escape Earl. “Statement: Conquering it all! Oh, what an excellent thought, Mistress!” Earls lantern squeaks as she skips closer. “This one supports it to the unfathomed dark ends of Tenebrous!”

{The Pilgrims are too naive and timid right now, and I am sure I would require their help to defend such an area.} 

The light of Earl’s lantern reflects on the table as she moves closer. “Recommendation: If the Mistress requires the fleshies to cease being incompetent, then feed them to the Tower’s fire and allow it to refine them. In other words, stop worrying about the inept fleshies who eagerly throw themselves into the flame; they are just impurities to be removed in refinement. Then with the impurities removed, more competent fleshies can become valuable resources for the Mistress’s purposes.”

{Though I am not in total agreement with thy phrasing if they were even a tad more experienced...} My gaze drifts to the camps in the distance. {...then having all of Central Park as my Domain is feasible.}

“Response: Central Park. That was not what the Mistress thought. Statement: This one believes the Mistress should have ambitions more appropriate to the Mistress’s great eminence. So this one prefers what the Mistress thought before.”

{Ah, that was just a passing thought.} I look over to where Earl is standing with a sharp grin on her face. All around her are thousands of unmoving copepods, covering every corner of the room, waiting for someone to command them. {It’s far too early to seriously consider taking all of Manhattan.}

“Encouragement: This one believes in the Mistress.” Earl’s smile grows larger as she hugs her lantern close and swings it from side to side. “This one knows that if the Mistress pursues it, then the Mistress shall have it.”

---

Shriek taps against the big whiteboard with a stick while Doctor Jäger, Byron, and I sit, waiting for him to make some suggestions for us. “Okay, so we’ve been charged by the Mistress to establish a stable ecology for the Tower, and things have really kicked off since the Fairy came back five days ago. However, I want to discuss some things from a different angle before we get too much further along.”

Raising his hand, Byron asks, “And what angle is that?”

“Challenge and economy! I’ve noticed a lot of the bugs we’ve been releasing aren’t going to be a challenge nor of any value.”

“We’re just trying to set up the base of the food chain, though,” Byron adds.

“Yeah-yeah-yeah, but I’ve been putting a lot of thought into this and reading some of our soggy ecology and environmental books, so-so just listen.” He raises his hands as if he may forget everything if someone interrupts him. “Most environments don’t have that many predators. Like, in video games, books, and stuff, there are almost always nothing but predators, but that’s just because they’re cheap, lazy, or don’t think people care about them. The reality is there would be a hundred non-predators for every one apex predator. That’s why I think we need to ‘X’ some of the scaredy, wimpy bugs and add some more neutral, but steely, ballsy man-bugs.”

‘I am not sure about his words, but I believe I understand his meaning.’ I tilt my head. “What hast made thou believe this?”

Byron chuckles and shakes his head. “Probably because of the Real World Roles Alliance.”

With a smile, Shriek nods. “Yeah, Byron and I are both in the RWR, and we were sitting around talking about all the crisp monsters that would be in here, and how their bodies could be valuable, and well, most of the bugs have just been… bugs. I’m not saying they should be dragons or anything…” He hesitates and then lets out a long sigh. “It’s just… it’s all-around more dangerous to hunt in the Tower than just standing at Columbus Circle, but the monsters are similar….”

Doctor Jäger and Byron look at one another and then at me. ‘He’s not incorrect. The people at Columbus Circle are just stabbing insects that exit chamber pot tunnels and then throwing the corpses into a pile. Though, I still think they are wasteful with those.’

“Plus, there’s a real problem with the strength scale. A lot of people are too weak to challenge the rumored monster bugs, yet the little bugs are too weak to challenge people and give hardly any Essence. If things continue as they are now, the predators will be few and hard to find while the prey is too easy and not worth the trouble. Like, okay, so the fruit is beyond any other I’ve ever tasted, so I’m sure it could be picked and sold, but the Pilgrims didn’t come to New York to pick fruit. They want Essence, they want to hunt monsters at their skill level, and they want to profit off the monsters they hunt.”

The creak of a lantern appears behind me. “Statement: A rare moment of lucidity from the fleshie,” Earl says. “Reminder: This one did say something similar to this.”

“Could you perhaps give Miss Nightingale more specific suggestions? More specific than ‘steely, ballsy man-bugs.’ Like what do you suggest as far as ‘profit’ goes because what we can actually do is limited.”

He nods eagerly. “I’m glad you asked because these are the kind of things we talk about at the RWR.” Reaching into his pocket, he fumbles with a damp piece of paper. He unfolds it and shows everyone a picture of a man wearing an odd set of armor that looks to be made from insect parts. “We could do things like adding insects that are around the size of people. Then their bodies can maybe be repurposed into protection or weapons!”

“Do you really think normal people would wear a bug’s exoskeleton?” Byron smiles warily and then continues, “It would be pretty cumbersome, and most people would probably think it smelled funny.”

“It’s just an example! Like, what I’m trying to get at is the bugs in the Tower should have more experimental value and imagination because the bugs outside are just bugs. Most of them are as valuable as you’d expect a giant dead cockroach to be.”

Doctor Jäger’s chair creaks as he leans back. “Well, we don’t know that, Shriek. We haven’t had time to explore their anatomies or bodily functions. Who knows what incredible things we might discover given time.”

“That’s true, that’s true!” Raising the drawing of the man in insect armor with one hand, Shriek waves the other in front of his chest. “But! Carapace armor is something more surface level, something immediate that people could recognize as a possibility, mostly because of the extensive amount of fantasy culture already prevalent in society.” He stops waving his hand and pokes the paper. “So people could make rudimentary carapace armor and then sell it or use it themselves.” 

“So you’re advocating for more focus on the cursory and elementary aspects of the specimens? Things that could be easily evaluated as valuable and then bartered with outside?”

He nods at Doctor Jäger and lowers the drawing. “As time goes by, I’m sure more things of value will be discovered, but yeah, I think we should be considering their present monetary value. Pilgrims, adventurers, warriors, they’ll all need sources of revenue, barter, or exchange. Oh, and not to mention, it might help shut up the recent naysayer migrants that are setting up camp on Cedar Hill and Great Lawn.”

“I get what you’re saying, but just out of curiosity, this is about what Grand Magister Alfred said, right?” Byron adjusts his glasses and says, “Because the times I’ve spoken to the GM, he’s been pretty adamant that one of the keys to spreading fantasy culture is planting the seeds of a fantasy economy.”

“I’ll admit that had some influence on my opinion, but not completely, no. I’m just taking the Mistress’s commands seriously because I’d like to stay on her good side.” Shriek shrugs and then stares at me. “I don’t want her to regret making me her chosen one after all….”

I make a thumbs-up, assuring him it is not an issue, while Earl whispers in my ear, “Inquiry: What is the Mistress’s opinion? Does the Mistress give them more ‘challenging’ beasts?”

{Earl, thou knowest my opinion. Thou can hear my thoughts.} 

“Statement: Apologies, Mistress. This one is just happy to know the Mistress has begun to see things differently.”

On my own whiteboard, I write, “I agree with Shriek, and I am open to the idea of bigger creatures.”

“Wow, really!?” Shriek shouts with wide eyes. 

“Aye, I shan’t deny the people what it is they want.” Erasing the board, I nod and continue writing, “And making the beasts have material worth is also something that has crossed my mind. It’s a very welcome incentive and could be a great boon to those outside in the camps. I am open to all suggestions.”

“I’m not condoning the killing of bugs, but crickets and pillbugs are considered some of the more palatable bugs in the animal kingdom, so a bigger version might be similar to crab or lobster.” Byron gasps, raising a finger and pointing somewhere else in the tent. “There are also the rosy maple moths! They are the smallest amongst the silk moths, but who knows how much silk they might make if they were giant. Oh, we have the Four O’clock Moth Caterpillars too!”

“I think I actually have a suggestion that might be of even greater value, though I agree that silk could certainly be a very lucrative commodity.” Doctor Jäger reaches into his coat pocket and removes a glowing piece of glass. “Many of the insects exposed to the violet gas typically grow a beautiful, glowing crystalline substance. I have found that the material maintains its glow even after the creature dies. If that substance keeps its light and can be cut like glass or gemstones, I’d imagine its value would be immense. 

“Wait, you’re saying some of the creatures here are basically walking around carrying gems!?”

“Well, I’m not sure if it’s durable enough to be a gemstone, but regardless, in a world where electricity may be difficult to come by, imagine lamps or chandeliers cut from it. It would be the first magical furniture that I’m aware of.”

Time passes as we discuss things further. When we separate, a new method of approach has been established. The people shall have all the plunder the creatures can provide, but it will not come so easily.

---

---

Inside a clear glass chamber, I watch heliotrope haze seeping in through a pipe and surround a small green caterpillar. A few glasswings hatched this morning, and so I have begun my own personal experiments with them. ‘I do not know what thou shall become little one, but thou art already my favorite.’

“Fairy, I mean, sorry, Miss Nightingale,” Byron says behind me. Turning around, I discover Byron standing there, holding several sheets of shimmering paper. “These lamented documents came in from the BDP, and well, they have issues with your theory of enclosure size dictating creature size.”

Tilting my head, I write on my whiteboard, “They have issues? But I did not tell them.”

“Yeah, you didn’t.” He rubs the back of his head and sighs. “You told it to me before we left, but while I was picking through the insect carcasses, I started to have doubts, so I tried to bring it up to them indirectly. Despite my hopes, they sorta figured it out based on the fact you’d brought them the Squir-Eels and asked them to hatch, grow, and document them.”

I nod and then write, “I see, then it is not important. What do they have issues with then? Do they have their own theory?”

“Yeah, they theorize that it’s actually the Cosmic System limiting their size, but, like you were worried about, that only holds up for a single generation. The second generation will grow to that species' normal size, regardless of enclosure or parent size. Which means the next generation of bugs we’re breeding won’t maintain that size. They’ll grow to whatever size they would have grown to without being in an enclosure.”

“I did not realize they had already learned so much,” I write.

He shakes his head. “Well, they haven’t.”

Byron hands me the papers, revealing that there is a message for me attached to the top.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

To the Honorable Miss Nightingale,

It pains me that we couldn’t meet as we had scheduled. However, as a General in the United States Military, I understand that during these chaotic times, every second is precious. This is why I hope I can assist in opening up more time in your busy schedule.

Our intelligence shows that you’re searching for information on the ‘awakening’ of creatures, their mutations, and changes between generations. Please, accept this newly declassified information as a sign of our goodwill. 

Lastly, since nearly everything in Central Park belongs to a governmental body, the U.S. Army has seen fit to commandeer the Metropolitan Museum of Art and convert it into a site adapted for military use. Seeing as we are now neighbors, I ask that you do the neighborly thing and visit when time allows.

Sincerely,
George P. Riddick
General, United States Army
Luminary Talent Contingent

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

‘He does not sound pleased with me skipping the meeting! But… to be fair, Terra was doing the talking. I do not recall actually agreeing that I would meet with him, did I?’  I flip to the following paper, finding portraits of me walking with the Squir-Eel on my back. The paper behind it is the Squir-Eel eggs stacked on a table. ‘And he has been spying on me! Are they not afraid of being trapped in New York with so many Kiln appearing? Are they staying because of the fungal Kiln, or is it because of me also?’

At the back is a paper that details some basic information comparing first generation beasts to second generation beasts. As Byron said, insect size is only limited to one generation. They ‘theorize’ this is the Cosmic System limiting them to prevent creatures from evolving in places that would cause them to be suffocated or crushed. ‘I suppose we shall save time not worrying about their size, but our already meager sway on the creatures is even less now. This certainly is a double-edged sword given our state of affairs.’

I turn to the next page, where there are portraits of several insects that show the difference between the first and second. The worst one they provided me has the words ‘Colossi Specimen.’ It shows what was once a centipede of only around two feet in length and one foot wide, but the second generation has grown to fifty-five feet in length and twenty feet wide. ‘Good lord… That’s just ridiculous. There… There is nothing a commoner would be able to do against that creature. It could just march into the camps and eat what and who it wants.’

“Should we maybe reconsider our approach and postpone the specimen releases?” Byron asks.

I think about all the things I have learned, including the conversation we had with Shriek earlier and the discussions I had with Earl. Shaking my head, I write, “Nay, our attempts to limit size appear to be useless, and we had already agreed to make them larger. Do not worry about creature size as much anymore and instead focus on creature temperament. Tomorrow we shall release more; however, we shan’t be releasing males just yet.”

“...Yeah, I guess.” Byron goes a bit quiet and then points at the papers. “Oh, and there was one more paper at the back. It’s from…” He moves closer and whispers, “It’s from Galtry.”

Nodding, I flip to the last page. It’s a picture that shows putrid water flooding the black roads of New York with a note that says, “Taken a half-mile from the edge of Central Park. More fly white-headed maggots found in people. Hope you’re well.”

‘He is still expanding his Domain. So be it. I doubt he has realized his grave error.’ I thank Byron and then place the papers on a table before returning to my work. ‘Aye, Mithridates, using the chamber pot tunnels will be thy undoing.’

---

---

“Alright, let it out,” Noah shouts, raising a rifle and pointing it toward a wooden cage big enough for a horse.

Among all the insects we have released into Fairy’s Pantry these past eight days, this one is the biggest and most intimidating.

A thick black horn emerges from the box’s innards, followed by dark purple and heavily armored arms and legs. The creature is bipedal with a torso as thick as a buffalo, arms akin to solid glass clubs, and carapace legs bent and shaped like a horses. At nine feet in height, the box could just barely hold it. We have taken to calling this one by the name Shriek suggested, armored bugbear.

The armored bugbear moves to a fig tree and lingers near the cages. We have already done this dozens of times before, so the BDP and Pilgrim Hill people instinctively jump to action. Together, they start beating against plastic and metal shields to persuade the beast to abandon the fig tree and leave the area.

The bull-necked beast’s carapace joints scrape together as it shifts position to peer at the humans with beady eyes. It drops onto its clubbed fists with two weighty clonks and aims its horn at the nearest person. It waves its horn back and forth and then exposes a big pair of insect wings. It beats the wings, creating a deep buzz and a wind that threatens to knock some researchers to the ground.

“Wait, no, give it space!” Byron shouts, backing away and raising his arms. “It doesn’t like people invading its personal space!”

Byron is correct. After various tests and discussions, I chose to subject the single rhinoceros beetle we brought to the heliotrope haze, creating this armored beast. We then let it grow in a horse-sized box before moving it to a large pin for two days to observe and live amongst a few other creatures. It only ever showed interest in anything other than eating when something wondered too close. 

We hope any armored bugbears we introduce can fill the role of defensive brutes in Fairy’s Pantry. Anyone who tests their mettle and defeats a bugbear will be rewarded with their beautiful glass arms, thick carapace armor, and a solid horn that could perhaps be repurposed into a reliable weapon.

Everyone backs away. Flexing its arms, the beast pushes itself up and back into a standing position. With a quick glance, it stomps away and into the north of the Breadbasket. ‘I believe it’s time to start experimenting with predators.’