"Ah, disgusting!" Remilia squeaked, hopping from heel to heel as she avoided tepid puddle after tepid puddle of dungeon drippings. "We're above this sort of work! Well, I am, at least!" For as skilled as the was prodigal sorceress was at her craft, she was a dungeoneering virgin. Our partnership was contractual: Remilia needed a seasoned guide and I needed a bit of coin, though I was beginning to find her trepidation was endearing.
"It's just water, and trust me, you're gonna get dirty regardless of what you do down here. Need I remind you that you wanted to be an adventurer? You could always go back to your books—"
My little protégé collected herself, "Ugh, of course, of course. I 'suppose' you're correct." She adjusted her rather over-sized hat, pressed out her skirt and quickly caught up as we delved deeper and deeper. The darkness would've been suffocating had not Remilia summoned a brilliant orb of magelight to cut through the void of the moss-coated cobblestone tunnels, but it wasn't long before its utility came to an end; plump caps of bioluminescent fungi steadily began to dot the subterranean corridors.
"Fascinating," Remilia added, taken by the sudden shift from dingy dungeon to an underground forest. The young witch took a moment to absorb the view before moving along. It was captivating, really, and generally safe by my metrics. I'd been prudent in choosing an appropriate starter dungeon for Remilia; a naturally lit alcove known for being populated by the perfect starter monster: slimes.
Slimes were cute in their own way, warbling blobs of green, semi-sentient protein matter that served as easy training to prepare for more challenging creatures. They were relatively harmless but on rare occasion could also acquire enough mass to be quite dangerous; even a common slime could gain some pretty quirky traits if it got too big. It was a one in a million chance, so we persisted onward.
Remilia seemed unfazed by our surroundings. She was both scholar and child, the underground biome offering a unique opportunity for study; unease had been replaced with burgeoning enchantment. While Remilia became increasingly enraptured with our environment, something felt 'off'; why hadn't we seen a single slime yet? They usually littered the fungi-filled tunnels. harmlessly squelching from surface to surface.
"Hmmm..." I murmured, scratching at my chin. We were far below ground level, but even so, there should have been some indication of life down here. Remilia's voice caught my attention, "Is this a low-level slime?"
A slime, yes. Low-level, it was not. The undulating mass stood strong and firm, like a column of pitch-black flesh, and its gelatinous surface was covered in an unearthly phosphorescent glow. It was truly a unique specimen, one that looked like it would give even a high-level adventurer a run for their money.
My shoulders laxed in disbelief, legs rigid with fear. "Shit."
Remilia could see the unease on my face, her own growing pale with concern as the ebony column loomed even closer, "Y-You don't think it—"
The monolithic glob of gunky girth lurched forward at Remilia with such speed that I barely had time to react. I threw myself at the creature, hoping to shield the girl; but the thing's attack was too fast, and it struck me hard enough to send me flying into the wall. The impact was brutal, sending shards of rock flying through the air and knocking me out cold.
I awoke groggily to the horror of seeing the tentacular slab of sickly stuff envelop Remilia's head like a fleshy helmet. The slime was slowly dragging her away, leaving behind a trail of slick slime trails and dripping goo.
"No!" Remilia cried, struggling to pull herself free. But the slime was far stronger than its tender appearance suggested, and soon had her completely immobilised. Her eyes went wide, but she didn't make a sound. I expected the worst, some gruesome display of butchery on behalf of the mindless mass; what happened was quite the opposite.
The slime began to shrink to a fractional size, becoming almost transparent; and as it did, it released Remilia's head. I stood up rushed to the young witch's side, "Hey, kiddo! Are you okay?"
She nodded weakly, "Yes, yes...thank you. That was—dreadful."
Her assailant had lost its initial mass and appearance, resembling a transparent mass in similar size and shape to well—Remilia. It resembled the little witch to a tee, a perfect clone, blissfully asleep.
"What is that 'thing'?" Remilia asked, her voice quivering at the sight of her slimy clone, "How can it do this? I thought only the strongest monsters could change form!" She wasn't exactly wrong. With enough mass and age, slimes could evolve into some interesting and deadly subtypes.
I was at a loss. Unfortunately, neither of us had time to grapple with the situation, as Remilia's carbon, slime copy stirred awake.
"Where am I?" Remilia's copy mewed in a sleepy slur. The copy mimicked Remilia's mannerisms and inflections to a tee, soon noting its own nakedness and panicking just as Remilia would.
"Err...you're in a dungeon, uh, dungeon, I mean," I stammered.
"A dungeon? How—what is this madness?" the copy inquired, sounding surprisingly intelligent for a slime; it was an exact copy of the prodigal witch, after all.
"You're an imposter, that's what!" Remilia snapped, suddenly regaining control of her wits. "And you're stealing my body! This is forgery of the highest magnitude!" The copy's expression changed to one of confusion, "Stealing? What are you talking about?"
"Shut up!" Remilia ordered, her tone taking on a stern quality. Her copy looked shocked, but complied with the order and ceased speaking.
"Hold on," I said, "Let's calm down for a minute. I don't think this thing is a threat, Remilia..." I couldn't say the same for the real thing.
The copy of Remilia bristled, its neck arching back and its eyes widening in anger. "Threat? Me? You dare call me a threat?! 'I' am Remilia Pendragon!" The doppelganger pointed to the 'actual' Remilia, who mirrored her exact frustration, "Y-You must be the imposter!"
Remilia's copy spoke with her distinct tone, the tone that Remilia used when she was trying to sound authoritative and threatening. Barring its translucent, gelatinous form, the mimic was the witch's spitting image; good grief.
"W-Well," Remilia's anger was beginning to subside, replaced by embarrassment as she looked upon the mimic's supple, petite body; her naked body, "it is indecent for you to remain naked, you have 'my' body, after all." Remilia's copy realized her own nakedness and shrunk inward, futilely shielding her pert, transparent chest with equally transparent arms, "Egad! Don't look at me!"
I'd not one bratty little witch to take care of but two. We couldn't just leave Remilia's slime pseudo-twin here. She would be afraid and confused, much like the original counterpart would; taking her with us would be the right thing to do.
"Let's just get back to the inn and get you some clothes, but first thing's first, we can can't keep calling you 'slime' or 'copy'; it's a bit," I paused, biting my tongue, "insensitive, but we can't get you mixed up with Remilia."
The slime paused for a moment, truly beginning to comprehend the nature of her existence. Was she a clone? To us, clearly, but to herself? It was easy to see that she was flustered. After all, she genuinely believed herself to be the original Remilia Penragon. After some delay, the gooey copy of Remilia answered, "Call me Pen. Perhaps I can still honor the Pendragon name." It was easy to tell that 'Pen' was hurt, coming to grips with her newfound identity.
Remilia tried her best to remain cordial and offered an awkward curtsy to her clone, "Pleased to meet you, Pen," Remilia looked about the dank cave with newfound unease, quite aware of the potential dangers that lurked here and only slightly recovered from her recent trauma, "Now, let's get you some clothes, hm?"
***