She stepped back in her cage and tried to gather her thoughts together cohesively. First she tried to recollect her memories. 'Alright, let's see...I was a human...a girl living in a small apartment...working in an...office?' she pondered, but the more she tried to focus, the less could be seen. Almost as if her past life were a dream. Yet it wasn't a dream. She could clearly remember certain parts, it was simply the rest being blurry. Her current situation on the other hand, was troublesome. 'Now...I'm in a cage in god knows where, stuck in this...thing, whatever I'm supposed to be.' she mused, looking over her body once more. It was unlike anything she's ever seen before. Similar to a reptile, perhaps a monitor lizard, yet her limbs were more mammal-like in terms of structure. Besides that, no other reptile besides dinosaurs, which have been extinct millions of years ago, had an appendage at the end of their tail, much less a bladed one. She tried to test it out, and swung her tail around, which was a new experience for her. She could tell that her tail was quite agile and dextrous. The blade too seemed sharp and effective, making a swishing noise every time she swung her tail.

  After determining that her body, despite her clumsy movements due to her inexperience, was strong, fast, but also juvenile. There were signs that this was not a mature body she was now inhabiting, not only due to size, but due to the lack of fully formed senses. Even now, she feels a dizziness while moving and looking around, the world still slightly blurry. 'The sensation earlier of being in the void must have partly been me growing, slowly getting used to it' she thought. The next thing she wanted to try, was to see if she could speak. Thus, she tried to open her mouth, which was now in the form of a muzzle. She tried to say a quiet 'Hello?', but all that came out was a high pitched squeak. She stumbled back, surprised by her own voice. 'Right...lack of properly developed vocal cords' she sighed internally as she thought about her circumstances.

  Looking around her, curiosity took over and she wondered about her neighbours, the other caged creatures. There were around twenty cages, all of them with at least one occupant in them. They varied, from a horned red-rabbit, to a strange red humanoid, with long ears and a big nose. The others were hard to describe, having features she would never have thought for standard animals. A wolf constantly surrounded by electricity as if it were like a faraday cage, a bird with feathers seemingly made out of hard metals, as they shined brightly. In front of all these cages were plates with labels, most likely what their captors named them. However, like her own, she cannot read these symbols.

  She thought back to her own, the only thing she was able to read out, at least what it looked like, was Mellua. 'What does that mean? Is it my name? My designation?' Her thoughts wandered. As she thought about it, her own name was a mystery to her. 'Damn Amnesia...' She sighed internally. 'For now, I'll go by Mellua...whatever it means.' She decided. Mellua then began to think about her predicament, who the people holding her and the rest of these creatures were, and why they were caged. The strange location she was in seemed to either be inside a building, or most likely, deep underground. Outside of that, there were various laboratory equipment, a table for examinations, old primitive microscopes, and some other devices she hadn't even seen before. All she could tell was that the craftmenship reminded her of the Industrial age, when the steam engine was first created.

  Thus, with all the facts laid before her, her own predicament and the environment included, Mellua realised that she was most likely not in her own world anymore. 'Unbelievable...If I weren't trapped right now, and stuck in this body, this would be incredible. Tch, just my luck.' she thought to herself, laughing bitterly at the situation. Despite all of the facts she could now gather, there was still a mystery that she had no clue on. It was the strange feeling passing through her body, both from the outside and the inside. 'I feel like I'm both surrounded and possessed by a force...unlike anything I've ever experienced.' she thought to herself, and tried to focus. However, before she could finish her train of thought, the three humanoid captors returned. Mellua stepped back inside her cage, her still undeveloped eyes focusing on the people in strange coats.

  The three scientists talked amongst themselves. They were all of different qualities. Starting from the left, the shortest of the three, was a humanoid that resembled a creature from folklore in her memory, a Goblin. It was a hairy and decrepit being with swamp green skin. It had a large pointy nose and yellow eyes, the pupils themselves being red. Atop it's head were small stubby horns. Despite it's appearance, it wore a proper lab coat, with small glasses that fit perfectly on the long nose. The one in the center was a tall man of skinny stature, but a sharp jawline. He had short but imposing tusks, and a long curved horn on his forehead. Besides his skin being red he looked relatively human. However, the expression on his face was cold. Unnaturally so. Particularly the gaze in his eyes, devoid of compassion. The last of the three was a woman whose most defining feature was her beauty. From her face to her body, every bit of her was beautiful and feminine. What set her apart from her colleagues were her bat-like features. The arms formed white furred wings that at the moment were folded up. Instead of small rounded ears, hers were long and pointy, sitting right above her forehead. Her eyes were dark, and her nose was small and leaflike in shape. Below her neck was a small puff of hair, silky and white.

  They seemed to be glancing around the room. Scouting the creatures in cages, in particular their eyes falling on two. A snake with feathered wings and a detailed and diversely coloured crest, and a certain scaled quadruped. That being Mellua herself. Noticing this, she stepped back in her cage and looked at them cautiously. Her eyes gazed right at them as her survival instincts started rising bit by bit. The tall red skinned man suddenly walked towards the cage where the winged snake was, meanwhile the Goblin started approaching Mellua's cage, with a wicked grin on it's face. There was only one thought going through her mind. A thought given birth by her instincts to bubble up. 'I am going to die'. The closer the wicked goblin got, the more the thought repeated. 'Get away!' She thought as she tried to shriek, but all that came out was a hissing sound. The decrepit scientist did not care for this and only laughed as it got close, and opened the cage. It reached inside with it's long fingers. 'No! Stay back!' her instincts roared inside her, as she backed away. The goblin did not let up and continued to reach in for her, now frustrated. She tried to run away but soon was met with no more room. As a last resort, her body leapt into action driven by instinct and she bit down on his hand. Her mouth was not developed enough to be able to physically harm the scientist, but it was enough for it to yell back in pain and pull it's hand away.

  It recoiled in anger. The goblin was shouting something that sounded like a curse and pulled out a long bronze stick, with a wire inbetween. It tried to poke her with it, but before Mellua could experience what this decrepit scientist was going to do to her, the bat-like woman stopped it. She seemed to be scolding the goblin, to Mellua's surprise, and the green scientist stepped away while dismissing her with a frustrated wave. The woman shook her head and leaned down, and instead of trying to forcefully grab, she carefully and gently reached out. Despite this, Mellua was still wary, and did not approach. Noticing this, the female scientist simply smiled, and began to sing. The sound she made was melodic and serene. Hypnotising even. 'Why is she...singing...' she thought, as her vision began to blur. Her four small legs slowly moved, bringing her towards the bat woman.'What's...happening to me...?' her mind wondered, as she began to lose control over her own body. With a gentle sweep of her arm, she picked up the scaled quadruped, and carefully held onto her.

  As she was held by the woman, she felt a strange comforting feeling. As if all of her previous instincts and worries started to wash away. She couldn't feel her limbs anymore, her body seemingly under an anesthetic despite not being injected any. The only thing her mind registered properly was the tall man holding the winged snake effortlessly, and gesturing to a hallway. The three began to move, with Mellua remaining in the bat-woman's gentle grasp. They walked what seemed to be an eternity, before arriving at their destination. She looked down and her mind dropped as she gazed down at the monstrosity before her. 'This is...an entire facility...' she thought as she looked down at the mass area, spanning what seemed to be miles across.

  There were many other people down there, much like the three scientists, who moved around the area either carrying something or with a creature like the ones in cages. Besides that she saw something that made her stomach drop, and all her senses rejuvenated. There were many other creatures, both animal-like and humanoid, going through obstacles, fighting each other, and being analyzed. That's when it hit her. This place indeed was underground. It indeed was a laboratory, a massive one. And the experiment-

  'I'm a guinea pig.'

  Was her.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  / / / / / /

  The sun was bright, shining down on the land below through the almost empty sky, save for a few clouds. Wind blew across the pastures of verdant grass, the blades swaying against the calm breeze like a wave in an open ocean. Meanwhile, a small flock of sheep with thick gray wool were carelessly grazing the fields. In the center of the fields was a small barn where the sheep would usually go to feed, and it was mostly covered in hay bales and well guarded with strong wooden fences. It was also where the sheep were usually having their coats managed. One of the sheep, the youngest, was having it's thick coat of wool clipped by a small scaled boy, struggling to hold the large hand shears in both hands. The process was slow, but with enough focus and a bit of effort, the young lad barely manages to clip the wool little by little.

  Not too far away, his mother watches as she herself clips the sheep with ease. She laughs softly and finishes up with gathering the wool from her sheep, and walks over to her son. "You're holding it wrong, boy." she says, putting down the basket filled with wool and crouches down with him. With a trained hand she gently places her hands over his, positioning them better on the shears. Then she positioned his arms in the right angle, and held the lamb steady. With one precise stroke, she helped the boy cut the wool perfectly. And thus, they cut some more, until they perfectly groomed the young lamb. "There we go now. When clipping, always make sure that your hands are holding it tightly, so that you don't slip. And to not hurt yourself. Am I clear, Láidir Iarlaith?" said Caoimhe, patting the boy's head.

  Láidir Iarlaith, a little boy aged seven years, smiled as his mother doted on him. "I know, Mama." he said, his soft voice barely escaping his tiny jaw. She too smiled, warmly looking down on her son. With a sigh, she removed her hand from his head and took the wool they had cut, and put it in the willow basket. Then, she picked it up, and looked at him and pointed over to the direction of the garden. "Go and bring me carrots,a leek and a cabbage. Make sure there isn't pests at all when you do, alright?" she said, and went back to their small cottage. He nodded, and with his tiny legs ran as fast as he could to the garden.

  Their garden was humble yet diverse. Due to his mother's proficient travelling skills with her wings in the past, she was capable of producing vegetables and crop that most others in the village did not possess. From ripe red tomatoes and sturdy potatoes, to the standard orange carrots, leafy cabbages and leeks and onions. In the center of it all was a well, which was connected to a fresh water source, unlikely to ever dry out. Láidir Iarlaith picked up a nearby basket, and began to slowly pick the vegetables. Having been around his mother many times while she was tending to the garden, he was taught how to tell between ripe carrots and unripe carrots, the same as for the rest. When picking for carrots, he would look at which had their 'heads', as he liked to call them, peeking out. Those would be ready for harvest. With this knowledge in hand, he managed to find at least two carrots that were ready. Pulling them out was the tricky part of the equation however, as that required finesse and technique. Luckily, his mother made sure to teach him how to do this right.

  He dug around the dirt surrounding the carrots, and slowly began pulling them out. It took a short while, but he was able to successfully pull them out with no damage to the carrots themselves, albeit one being slightly bent. "Sorry Mr. Carrot, I'll do better next time." he said with a saddened face, and put them carefully down in the basket. As for the leek and cabbage, they had similar ways of harvest. He did unto the leek as he did with the carrots, and with the cabbage he cut around the stem of it with a small knife his mother gave him specifically for farming. The boy put all the vegetables into one basket and walked back to the house.

  Their home was a small yet hospitable place built with fine stone walls that were properly chiseled, and an oak roof that never gave way to weather. The path that led to it was surrounded by a small garden of flowers, matching well with the diverse pieces of rock and stone that were put into it. They led to a door that was simple, but welcoming, made out of strong birch. He stood before the door, and put down the basket he held, and jumped up to reach the handle and pull it down, opening the door. Inside was their humble abode, filled with many decorations made by the various items Láidir Iarlaith had picked up in the forest. Aside from that was a modest living room with only two chairs made out of oak and had soft bedding on their seats, next to them was a table with three stubby legs, years of use left a mark on it that gave it real charm. Behind these chairs were two windows with glass panes connected to birch frames, their hinges being relatively free in movement. In between these windows was a bookshelf, filled with all kinds of literature Caoimhe found in the past and collected, most of which she reads to him. His favorites were the poems and the history scrolls. He wished he could read them all, but there was a special collection of books and scrolls on the top of the shelf she strictly told him were forbidden.

  Besides the living room, the other rooms in the house were the two bedrooms, Caoimhe's and his, and the kitchen. He waddled over to the kitchen, and saw his mother preparing a steel pot for supper. She saw him enter and smiled. "You were quick lad. Sooner or later you'll be able to live on your own." she said and ruffled her son's hair, and taking the basket from him. She set it down on the table beside her and looked down at him. "Go play with yourself while I fix for supper, alright?" Caoimhe said softly and started sharpening her knife. The little boy however stood there curiously watching her. Seeing this she chuckled and gestured over to a stool. "Alright, if you want to join your mother making supper, pick up the stool and watch closely."

  He smiled brightly and quickly ran over to the stool and carried it over, and without a moment's notice stood up on it. His tiny tail swayed slightly to help keep balance on the stool. She smiled at her little boy's excitement and started by preparing the pot filled with water. Láidir Iarlaith watched his mother took a deep breath, her chest starting to glow a bright orange, slowly rising up to her throat, and finally released as a focused breath of fire under the pot. The water inside it began to boil as the heat grew. Sensing that she reached a high enough temperature, she slowly stopped breathing fire. She then took out some of the carrots, and began to dice them with her knife. Her movements were sharp and precise, years of experience behind every slice. The same was done for the leek and cabbage, perfectly cut up and sliced, and then put into the boiling pot.

  As Caoimhe finished up the cutting, she stirred the pot, slowly putting in some of the other herbs and salts she had stored in her cupboards. Slowly the enticing aroma of the mixed vegetables and spices began to fill the room. She took a steaming spoonful of the stew she had created and blew on it gently, before holding it down for her boy to taste. He curiously sipped the stew and hummed in delight. "It's delicious Mama." he said looking up at his mother. "Splendid then. Go set up the table and bring yourself a bowl now, boy" she replied to him with a smile, and hummed as she cleaned up her work. Feeling his stomach rumbling, Láidir Iarlaith does as he's told and starts setting the table, slowly and carefully putting the bowls and spoons down. He sits and waits for his mother to finish, excited to finally eat up.

  Caoimhe sung a melody quietly as she finished up and brought over the pot of stew. Her voice was serene, not quite professional or trained, but it was calming and gentle. She poured the stew down into their bowls and placed leftover bread. They would surely need to get more later afternoon, but for now it was enough. She sat down next to him, and before they started eating she held onto his hand gently and looked at him. "Now boy, what do we say to God before we eat?" she asked. The boy thought for a bit before answering back clearly. "We thank him...for blessing our food, and for watching over us."

  She nodded at his words and rubbed her thumb over his tiny hand. "Yes. However, there's more to it, Láidir Iarlaith. We thank him so that we show that our hearts are pure, and haven't been corrupted by the folly and greed of man. There would be no world left to live in for everyone, if the only thing that mattered was self preservervation." Caoimhe said, her words tainted with the hardship of the past. Láidir Iarlaith looked up to his mother, in awe of her words. The boy was still figuring out how the world works, thus his mind wasn't quite capable of fully understanding the depth of what she said. However, he did recognise the meaning. There was simply something plaguing his mind. "Mama...? Why did God make me...work wrong?" he said, hesitating slightly as he looked down, his clothes barely covering up the apparatus attached to his body, constantly working, lest the consequences manifest.

  His mother frowned at her son's words, immediately recognising what had illed his thoughts, but refused to let it through. "Stop with such nonsense, a mhuirnín. You aren't disfunctional. You're here with me, breathing and eating like everyone does, are you not?" she said, smiling at him and rustling through his hair with her hand. He laughed and squirmed under her touch. For a moment she paused and looked at her boy seriously. "You're my son, alright? I don't want to hear you speaking ill of yourself, much less to blame it on God," she paused, and looked down at him softly. "You're the only thing I have left, a dhrágaín bheag. I will never let anything happen to you, understand?"

  The little drakonid nodded at her mother. Satisfied, she turned her attention to her bowl. They began to eat, leaving the earlier conversation to the past. After all, today had still a long ways to go.