Somewhere Someplace

A full day had passed, yet that camp was still there. No doubt, the merchant-slaver was awaiting a response—one that would never arrive.

Nilia had ultimately informed Albert of her…momentary side-venture; after an equally momentary chastising, she was told to ignore it. Yet she had been…unable to ignore it. It continued to linger in her head, not helped by the fact that slaver camp remained positioned in viewing distance from her window—a constant reminder.

She attempted to focus, to prioritize, the document of letters and words before her mask-obscured eyes, yet she could not. In the depths of her mind, there was too much she was still attempting to comprehend; to unravel, unwrap, and unfold.

Truly, out of all the bizarrities—out of all the abstractions—, this one had to be the most perplexing, despite being unable to even explain—let alone comprehend—the why.

It should not be so confusing, this peculiar institution. It was rather simple: the denizens bartered denizens. Denizens were already doing this with a myriad of both domesticated and tamed animal species. Yet…Nilia had already felt strange about that practice.

Bartering, trade, commerce…such was a practice of exchange for 'ownership' over resources, instruments, tools, objects, and trinkets… And living beings were neither objects nor trinkets, but…living beings.

If anything, frankly, this 'slavery' of theirs was a logical and natural conclusion—a predictable next step—in their already established practice of bartering and trading animals… After all, being with sapience and essence notwithstanding, all of them—denizens and even her—were ultimately animals…

Yet… No matter how much she could be so objective and naturalistic, to equivocate the commercialized bartering of animals with that of…people, there persisted something deeper within her that could not…accept…this conclusion.

There was a difference.

Yet Nilia could not really piece together…what precisely that was, nor the problem or…source of confusion. Why…this particular bizarrity was seemingly bothering her more than…almost everything else had hitherto observed of these denizens—the horrid and absurd. Truly, compared to everything else of these denizens, this particular practice was relatively mundane. Atrocities, genocide, and violent obsessions over imagined nonsense and invented constructs…

Hm…

As she cogitated, she recalled that there was a sectarian tension in Strawberry between elves and so-called 'mans'; the observable prejudice and fiery speeches. That camp primarily had elves, and most of the lines of 'prisoners'—which she now knew to be…not prisoners, but 'slaves'—were also predominantly elves. Perhaps there was a…sectarian component to this practice, thus…

Although, no, wait… She began to recall her recent yet distant past in Coastfield; there were many times that she had observed similar lines of what she had presumed to be 'prisoners'…being escorted into the inner city. These lines were a mix of many different 'races', including mans.

Thus, perhaps not strictly sectarian even if…it was a component.

Truly, the more Nilia attempted to comprehend this, the less she felt that she did. There was nothing fundamentally abhorrent in an objective and material sense regarding this practice in and of itself, yet…she was still left terribly bewildered.

Indeed, abstract… This…tension…within her, the abhorrence, was fundamentally abstract.

Cruelty… Cruelty was the expectation she had for these denizens; thus, cruelty was not the unique issue. But compared to what she recalled of denizen animal trading, the animals were… Well, in almost equal conditions—caged and sold… Yet there nevertheless was…a different sense to it.

Perhaps it was the way the slavers had been speaking—the type of language being utilized to describe their so-called 'merchandise'. Unlike with animals she had seen being traded and exchanged, there was…an almost intentional usage of language as if to create active…distance. Indeed, despite the presence of both a natural sex pronoun and an animate neutral pronoun within the local language, the merchant had used the object pronoun 'it' for that…

" 'Demi-person', huh…" Nilia so sighed…

Truly, none of this was to even begin with the other thing still affixed to her mind, unable to leave… Her discovery… 'Demi-human' and 'demi-people'… So, that was what these words had been referring to…

Human chimeras…

Certainly, it could be perplexing how a giant cyclops had seemingly unfazed Nilia but a girl with fluffy ears and tail was a line too bizarre. However, there was reason; a giant cyclops was a product of extensive genetic engineering… Chimerification, however, was not merely playing with genetics even if such was a component—it was a form of synthetic biology.

Chimeras, in principle, were complex synthetic organisms designed and produced; the process was a multitude and not easily condensed into summary, varying considerably depending on organism class. However, it generally entailed synthesizing a composite organism composed of many cells with nominally unique and separate genetic information, usually wrapped together by an integrative template.

Basic chimeras, thus the definition of 'chimera' in the Remnant sense, were any organism imbued with an 'unrealized' and simple functioning, or 'chimeric', essence—a process which required human or 'humanized' nervous tissue, whence chimera from the original biological sense of the word. 'Chimeric essence' was another ill-defined complexity, but from the Remnant perspective any organism with chimeric essence was classified as a chimera, regardless of whether it was predominantly genetically singular.

Advanced chimeras, such as griffons, had overt composite characteristics; they could have multiple bodily sections that had entirely different genomes and tended to violate the fundamental vertebrate body plan. However, many advanced chimeras could ostensibly appear to be composites but could in fact be largely genetically singular. Either case, chimeric essence was present and usually acted as an 'adhesive' that held the composite organism together, so to speak.

Chimerification, let alone advanced chimerification, of any human species was barely attested to within Remnant records—or at least her Remnant records—, beyond horrid leftover attempts from primordial bygones. Indeed, from her understanding, there was a documented, consistent, and repetitive pattern of extreme difficulty and failure in creating human chimeras. It was not a technological constraint, but a fundamental one.

There was simply some factor involved in the chimerification process that led to constant failures whenever humans were the template, with the most primordial sources making a frequent reference to a limitation variable designated 'IRB'. No doubt, humans being uplifted hosts to 'fully realized' essence was the main prohibiting element, being far too mutually integrated with each other's…respective 'codes'.

Quasi-humans, meanwhile… Quasi-humans were not supposed to have essence; such was apparently the point of them. Yet clearly observed both here and well-documented in Remnant records were countless populations of apparent—in characteristics, genetics, and phenotype—quasi-humans with essence. However, essence in this context would not be a chimeric feature.

The genetic mirroring between 'standard' humans and quasi-humans was enough to allow for theoretical interbreeding, albeit severely hindered between uplifted and non-uplifted populations. However, because quasi-human nervous systems were—in structure and complexity—mutually similar and identifiably human, 'regular' human essence could nevertheless be acquired through mechanisms such as the matrilineal transmission effect, albeit to varying stability and…potential complications.

Although, the most common method of essence acquisition in natural quasi-human populations…tended to be from…prolonged intergenerational blunt exposure…to a certain category of…contaminative and assimilative…influences.

Regardless, the basal species for quasi-humans was one that did not have essence nor the mechanisms that facilitated essence generation, growth, and sustenance. Thus… Nilia's only best guess to explain…that demi-girl, these 'demi-humans', was that the template for these human chimeras had to have been quasi-humans—such would eliminate essence from the equation.

Yet… Hm… Nilia's essence, perpetually activated and ever attuned, could tell if something did or did not have essence… And, from her memory, that demi-girl…had essence—proper essence of her alignment. No contamination, no…chimeric 'lobotomization', although she would have to do a thorough assessment for confirmation.

Hm…

Blue and green… Right, Nilia abruptly recalled… Bee's bizarre and strange designation.

Denizen and animal… It was clear now that demi-humans were what her sentinel had been registering. The fact that 'blue' was included suggested that Bee had detected…aligned and realized essence, although… Remnant highlight-tagging did not differentiate between quasi-human and human: denizen was not a species category.

Essence and the alignment thereof were a crucial differentiator, however it was not always the predominate determination of the designation. It was contextual; context was what prevented non-uplifted quasi-humans from being tagged as ambient wildlife.

Hm… It was nevertheless entirely possible that there was something about these demi-humans and their essences' auras that had confused Bee enough to invent an entirely new designation rather than tag them as denizen blue… Although, it was equally possible—if not more likely—that the designation had simply been Bee's own bewilderment from registering those animal-esque ears and tails on humanoids…

Indeed…

That demi-girl had only two immediately noticeable…chimeric features: those canid ears and that canid tail, without distortions or observable 'imperfections'. That girl was an advanced chimera, a very precise one at that… And she was young…

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Offspring…

Chimeras, both basic and advanced, were almost always sterile and prone to persistent embryonic failure; they were organisms not composed of a single genome, and chimeric essence, being ultimately bounded to humanized nervous tissue, could not be transmitted. They typically had to be actively created to replenish populations.

However, those pseudo-arachnids, 'glow-spiders', Nilia recalled… They had so clearly demonstrated reproductive capabilities and a kind of essence transmission—a process she had observed in detail.

She could extrapolate from both that and the apparent natural abundance of chimeras that…most chimeric species in this place were probably capable of some kind of reproduction… There had to be some mechanism in their biology or essence that…allowed for chimerification during embryonic development or something. Again, chimeras were not merely mutants or hybrids—there had to be some force at play that actively enforced natal success and development of chimeric features…

Virions, maybe?

Hm…

Truly, these demi-humans were a newly opened box of questions and inquiries. Nilia could only speculate towards absurdity. She was neither a Green-Coat nor Teal-Coat… Or 'Viridian-Coat' rather—a specialized designation.

Yet even in her own respective domain, she struggled for answers…

This place, as she so continued to assume, was a Calamitous playground; a graveyard. Truly, she could only say, where else would she possibly find such a thing as a perfected human chimera if not in a place like here? Where else would she possibly find reproductively capable chimeras if not in a place like here?

Yet for as much as she could conclude such over and over, this only made everything all the more…confusing. Deep down within, she knew that this supposition was…insufficient, but not the why.

Calamitous graveyards, deadlands or blossoming spheres, always had variety; yet there was also…a consistency…in the inconsistency—a pattern in tendency. There was something off about this place; the level of precision and…design…

Indeed, design…

Such a chimera would have to be designed—engineered and modeled before synthesis.

She simultaneously could see the Calamity's Hives doing such a thing due to, again, variance in intendent personalities, yet also…not. Or rather, not that they could not—because they absolutely could—but rather…why?

Why? Why would it bother with engineering such a place with this level of precision and meticulousness—from the organisms, chimeras, to the denizens' encrypted spell-cards, to even… Right, those so-called 'deity' entities…

Yet, conversely, why would it not? If the Central Node was destabilizing, then it would not need a cause—just enough maddened curiosity… But had it reached that point yet?

Hm…

Ugh, something was missing in her analysis; something that kept spinning her around in endless indeterminable circles.

Therein lays your persistent issue.
Your inability to see…
Beyond our name.
So far has time carried
That you have forgotten…
There used to be things before you and I.
Before He and She,
Before Remnant and Hive.
A failure of imagination
That their shadows could continue to haunt.
I cannot blame you.
Even I was surprised.

Nilia nearly groaned in a sigh from her fatiguing mind… Truly, it was in moments like these where she wished that there was an operational Remnant station in this place—one with not only fellow Violet-Coats but troopers from every department… To fill the holes she could not.

Hm… Wait…

Nilia turned her sight to that window, staring out to that camp afar… She then returned her mask-obscured eyes to that document of words—an analysis to be read.

Hm… What she wanted this moment was…analysis or…answers from those who knew more, hence the yearning for other colored troopers.

But the denizens here…

While she knew she obviously would not get any answers regarding chimeric biology, the specifics of those demi-humans, or the fundamental nature of what this place even was, they could at least provide answers…or explanations…regarding that other peculiar confusion of hers—a confusion appertaining to their domain.

And what better a local source was there than that walking-talking information dispenser she had immediate access to… Kind of… Novea had not checked in for a while, likewise, thus she had her excuse.

With a gentle exhale and after some momentary deliberation—reflecting on whether she should risk…the potential disruption—, she pressed her communicator-scanner.

« Bí, transmitté ad collaboratorem. »

With the cyanic light gently blinking away, she waited as her finger remained pressing in place. It took less time this time for a response.

"Oh, uhm… Hello… This is…random—and sudden… Can you, uh, give me a moment?"

There was evident fatigue in Novea's breaths.

"Certainly?"

Thus, a moment passed, Novea's breaths suggesting motion; she could hear the trace sound of a door opening and a door closing. Shortly after, Novea spoke again.

"Alrightly… You're lucky; I was already…on my way back to my room. Though, officially, I am…only fetching something. But I'm alone, so we can… *Ahem* Anyway, what do you want? I'm kind of…tired…and I have to get back."

Nilia…hesitated, somewhat, for reasons she knew not. Perhaps this was not the appropriate time… However, most times with Novea did not seem appropriate. And she wanted answers, although she took a moment to…figure out how to ask.

"The other day—yesterday… I encountered this…camp that traded…these slaves. It has…left me terribly confused, and I need an elaboration."

There was a short delay.

"…slavery? You're…confused about… You…violated your own…rules just to…ask about slavery?"

Novea's tone seemed as if such was an almost natural obvious, requiring no elaboration.

"Yes… For me this is…new and strange, so… I need an explanation, from…your point of perspective. I assumed that you would have…the better knowledge."

There was, again, a moment of no reply.

"I… Wow, you…really are an alien. How do you not know…"

Novea was audibly confused, although it subsided as she went quiet… Nilia could hear her contemplating breaths.

"Ironically, you're better asking…the Company… But… *Sigh* Alrightly… You went out of the way to…talk to me… So… Sure. Alrightly. I'll…try my best to…answer."

The answers Nilia ultimately received did alleviate some things yet did not make her any less uneased. It made her realize that this 'slavery' was simultaneously more mundane yet also more confusing. And Novea was entirely nonchalant in her tone—an indication that for the denizens, it was mundane.

-|-

"Demi-people are the bottomest, so…they don't have any protections and receive the worst of it; but mans and even elves, it's not the worst…fate—it probably isn't too different from serfdom. For war-captures, though…there's a price for defeat, but it's…better than being killed, and that's what would've happened otherwise—they were spared. But the worst is reserved for criminals and…'wicked kinds'."

"Uhuh… But, if I understand this correctly, they are not the…'people' by these laws of yours. They are…trinkets?"

"I would not…word it like that. Slaves are slaves."

"But…as you said, if I went and did murder against a 'slave', the issue for your laws would not be the murder, which is prohibited, but…a wrong against the 'property' of the 'owner'."

"A murder of a person is…a crime, but slaves lack personhood, so…the murderer would be punished through…property customs, yes."

"…so, they are the trinkets, then?"

"Again, I would not say it like that… Slaves are people, just not…persons; they are slaves."

"But this 'owner' is with 'liberty' to…do whatever it is that they want to them? Am I understanding this rightly? Because they are their trinket… There are no…rules prohibiting misconduct?"

"Again, I already said—and described—that there are protections; an owner, for example, in…at least most realms, cannot arbitrarily kill their slave, and some sellers include extra protections in their contracts of sale. But, again, it depends on the class of slave…and…"

"This separation of 'classes', to me, implies an intention of cruelty or an allowance to deprive… Why else would these distinctions, these lack of protections, exist? If you must have this practice, should not all of them have these…protections? Should not your 'laws' that apply to everyone apply to them too?"

"Laws have never applied to everyone equally… Look, if you are a slave of someone's household, at least you are fed, housed, and have a place to be—not in poverty. That's why people sell themselves into it. We aren't like the New World or Far West… Most slave classes can buy or earn their freedom eventually."

" 'Most', besides the 'undesired'… Like the demi-people."

"…that's… They are different…"

"You said earlier that for the demi-people, it was better to be dead, no? Because they are the 'bottomest'… Why?"

"…It's…complicated… The blood-feud goes back…since the Collapse. Demis hate mans; mans hate them… I'd rather not talk about them, honestly… "

"Hm. Fine. But these 'slaves' in general… You said that many of them were…captured? During the wars or raids? Thus, they were…random persons taken from their residencies to be made into these purchasable trinkets without this 'personhood'? So, they were 'persons' before but then…they are not? Because it was just said so?"

"Nil… I really don't want to argue about this."

"But I am not arguing. I am confu—"

"Yes… Yes, you are arguing…"

There was a pause followed by a sigh.

"Look, I get it. Slavery sucks—but so does being a poor freeman. Like I said, at least if you're a slave of a household, you are fed, housed, and have a life… Sure, a slave can be forced on or abused, but so can a poor freeman or especially freewoman in the slums… There are actually more protections for slaves than there are for the poorest free people, so it really makes no difference."

"But one is a trinket to be sold as this 'property', and the other is not; that is the difference… And the elves that I saw; they seemed…miserable—their cages. Even the ones with laughter, they were not…happy."

"And that is just life, alrightly? That is life. At any moment, any one of us—including me and you—can end up a slave. Slavery is a fact of life and life sucks. You need to get over that."

"It is only this 'fact of life' because you make it so…"

There was a pronounced grugh.

"Raven Mother… Yeah. Sure. And if you want anyone to thank for the shit-infested cages or sad whimpering elves, you can go and talk to your Company boyfriends about their freakish export demands, because I don't want talk about this anymore!! Don't ever talk to me about this again! Don't wanna hear it! Don't wanna hear it!!"

The transmission cut from the other end.

Nilia, flat affect, was left awfully confused….

Well, that was rather abrupt… Novea had seemingly become oddly provoked out from nowhere, even though Nilia's own tone had remained consistently…neutral. She did not think that she had been particularly aggressive or hostile, just forthright.

Hm… Although, thinking on it now… It did seem that there were indications in Novea's voice that she had been becoming increasingly uneased by the subject… Perhaps being confronted with the contradictions had frustrated her so. Denizens, after all, were prone to hostility when confronted with their own absurdity.

That is not a uniquely denizen feature, trooper…

Regardless, for whatever reason her own Novea had clearly turned hostile because of this conversation. Nilia, however, opted to simply wait this out and…provide that Raven her space to return to normalcy. Likewise, although she had no reason to, it was perhaps strategically important that she apologize later for…whatever it was she had even done to aggravate her so.

Sighing, Nilia's mask-obscured eyes thus turned once again to that same window…

She stood herself up and approached that specific window, staring out towards that slavers' camp…still there.

Many questions remained unsolved; many matters remained unresolved…

Yet she had perhaps spent far too much time lingering on this.

Indeed, she shut the curtain blinds, obscuring the sight, and returned to her coopted desk. Having many tasks needing to be done, she sat back down and thus—

Abruptly: buzz.

Her communicator began to 'buzz', the cyanic light blinking.

« … » Nilia froze for a moment, comprehending the buzz—the slim vibration of the device in her ear… « …quam mox, jam talí tempore breví… » Well, that did not take long at all…

She pressed her communicator.

« Salvé… »

Yet replying was not a simple greeting, but sniffles amidst words initially hard to understand.

"I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean what I said! I didn't mean to yell at you, I'm sorry! It's just there are some things I don't like thinking about when I'm tired and things have been so stressful—but I shouldn't have bitten you! I am sorry… Please don't hate me… Please don't hate me! I'm so sorry… I don't want you to hate me…"

Nilia listened to Novea's…comprehensive apology, one rendered slightly inaudible from the sniffling tears; she herself naturally apologized in kind, even if she still…did not quite understand…what she had done to provoke this situation.

Either way, that was one matter resolved, at least. Truth be told, Nilia was…perhaps… somewhat relieved deep down within, even if she did not bother comprehending it.