So, after not dying horribly in my first real fight, I was officially part of the party or at least, tolerated enough not to be fed to the nearest monster. Names, faces, and personalities swirled in my head like a drunken bard's song. I needed to remember who was who if I was going to survive this. There was Maren, the gruff tank-type who looked like she bench pressed a bear for breakfast. She had a permanent scowl and a voice that could curdle milk, but the way she kept the party alive? Respectable.
Next up, Lio, a lanky magic user with glasses so thick they could stop arrows. Always muttering about arcane theory and probably the only one who noticed my weird quirks.
Then, there was Rynn, the rogue. If sarcasm were a weapon, Rynn was a master swordsman. Quick with a joke and quicker with a dagger. Also, suspicious of everyone.
And finally, me, the fake Kaito. Probably the weirdest one of the bunch.
We were trekking toward Ravenfell, the largest city on the continent. According to the party's endless chatter, Ravenfell was a place where legends were made and mistakes were buried deep under the city's cobblestones.
"So, you're Kaito, huh?" Maren's gaze bore into me like a furnace. "Don't think we've got room for dead weight."
I tried to return her stare, but it came out more like a deer caught in torchlight.
"Not dead. Just… reloading" I muttered. That got a grunt from her, probably her version of approval.
Lio spent half the trip lecturing me on mana flow, magical resonance, and how my energy signature was unique. He made it sound like I was some walking, talking anomaly. Which, yeah, thanks for the reminder. I secretly appreciated the company, even if his explanations made my head spin.
Rynn didn't say much but kept throwing sidelong glances at me like I was a three-headed dog in disguise. One night, when the campfire was low, she finally spoke.
"Don't think I haven't noticed you avoiding meals. You're hiding something."
"Can't eat all the time, you know" I quipped, but inside, the my hunger was screaming louder than ever.
Feeding was the hardest part to hide. The party's rations were boring at best, hard bread, dried meat and the occasional root that tasted like sadness. What they didn't know, I'd been slipping off at night to feast on mana cores from monsters we'd killed. One night, under a crescent moon, I found a cluster of glowing cores tucked away behind some rocks. The surge of mana as I devoured one was like a lightning storm in my veins. Power bloomed, my senses sharpened, and the hunger eased for now.
With every stolen core, I felt myself changing. My memory sharpened. My control over Kaito's form grew precise. Magic that was once a sputtering candle now flickered with steady flame. I practiced silently, drawing mana, shaping it, coaxing it to life. Traveling with humans means a lot of talking. Mostly about things I don't care about or barely understand.
"How's the sword training?" Maren asked one morning, poking my ribs with a boot.
"Like juggling knives... blindfolded" I said, which earned a snort.
Days passed, the city's spires finally piercing the morning mist. Ravenfell. Big, busy, dangerous and me? Just a mimic in a stolen body, trying not to lose it.