Doppel Makes a Friend

Humans were unparalleled when it came to making marvelous things. Such creativity in such a short-lived species. Their genes barely eked out a century of life, coming to their end far sooner than their castles built from mountain stone, but the innovation their brief, mortal existences inspired was unparalleled.

These thoughts, in less elegant terms, filled the mind of Mugwort as he watched the human scoop a fourth mound of the tantalizing creation known as ‘ice cream’ into a bowl. With the metal tubs holding the ice cream cooled by nevermelting frost, the frozen treat was a delicacy rare outside of large cities lacking a decent number of mages.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked him as the apparent young man bounced on the balls of his feet like a kid on yuletide morning. To her, he would appear human. Tall, muscular, but a big softie as revealed by his delighted and innocent smile. Wavy brown hair topped his head in loose curls and his face bore a broad but not overlarge nose. Only his eyes betrayed something was not quite right with the young man, and few asked about their lack of pupil or iris, though many noticed.

“Very,” Mug said in answer, his gaze never leaving the unrivaled beauty of a treat. He pushed over a messy pile of coins and cash to the vendor; bits he’d saved up all week just to enjoy this delicacy.

It took all of Mug’s will to hold himself still enough to receive the masterpiece of sweetness. Unaware of the irritated vendor’s expression at his method of payment, Mug savored that first lick. An explosion of flavor! Sweet with cherries and cream and the crumble of graham. Beyond that, caramel and fudge and richness. Joy was existence.

“Excuse me.”

A rough tap interrupted Mug’s euphoria, and he turned to look at the bald, round man behind him. He did not wear a smile and looked as sour as the bitter lemons at the farm where Mug worked sometimes. When he was Mug anyway.

What could he want?

“Hello!” Mug smiled, trying to cheer the portly fellow up. “It’s nice to meet you!”

The man didn’t smile. “There is a line, you know.”

Mug blinked his solid grey-white eyes and looked back at the growing line. He hadn’t moved aside, and it clicked in his mind. Whoops.

“Sorry!” Mug said, chuckling with awkward steps as he got out of the way. “Just was caught up in this wonderf—”

“I don’t care,” the man said, waving him off and going up to the vendor to place his order.

“Oh,” Mug said. It took him a second to search for words, and he smiled again. “That’s okay! We could talk about something you care about. I’m Mugwort by the way, Mug is good too, and I see we both like ice cream so—”

“What part of ‘I don’t care’ do you not understand kid?” The bald man’s eyes flicked over at Mug in annoyance. “Quit talking to me.”

“Oh, um, alright.” Mug glanced at the others in line, who seemed now to be busy in one way or another. His ice cream was a little less sweet as Mug left the parlor, though of course he still ate all of it. Sugar was a necessity.

Mug shook off the melancholy. This city had thousands of humans and other beings within its walls. He was sure to run into a friend sooner or later. His only sorrow came from the last bite of the ice cream, but it was good to have enjoyed, and the memory kept his smile bright as he continued down the street. Horses sometimes trotted by, or oxen drawing along a cart stuffed with produce to sell at the markets, but most of the traffic consisted of pedestrians. Mug put a skip in his step as he passed a lute player who was seeking coin for his musical talent -which Mug obliged to give, of course- and kept his optimism even as the jaunty tune faded into the distance behind him. Yet,growing tired of Mugwort, his skipping slowed. Mugwort might be the favorite, but settling for long on any of his names was an abrasive sensation.

Stepping off the main roadway and into an alley, Mugwort looked to evade prying eyes. Now, who to choose. Daylily with her glittering hooves? Or perhaps Kagu and his lithe form? Strangeshape was always fun, slithering along, or Calamari with her purple and pink fins.

“Who’s there?”

Mugwort jumped, startled by the rough, grating voice coming from one of the side doors of the buildings framing the alleyway. A crochety old man stood there, a bag of trash in one hand and a fireplace poker in the other. How odd.

“Hello!” Mug said, giving the guy a friendly wave, his copper toned skin almost bright against the drab alleyway.

“You don’t seem like a mugger,” the old man said, leering at the bulky young man.

“My name is Mug, if that’s what you mean?”

This seemed to amuse the man, and he chuckled, lowering the poker but not putting it down. “Nah, that ain’t what I mean. Your parents must have hated you though.”

Mug paused with a slight frown. “That’s not very nice, even if I had parents.”

“Just joking kid,” the man said, stepping into the alley and over to one of the dumpsters to toss in his refuse. “Meant no offense, just wanted to comment that Mug’s an odd name.”

“It is?”

“Mhm.”

“Is Mugwort better?”

“That your full name then?”

Mug nodded and the man shook his head.

“You’re named after a plant?”

“It’s a healing plant humans often use. I thought it was kinda wholesome.”

“You speak like you named yourself.”

“I did. Do you like it?” There was such hope in Mug’s voice that the old man chuckled again.

“Aye, it’s an alright name,” the man said, looking Mug in the eye this time before stiffening and backing away, fire poker raised like an unsheathed blade in both of his knobbly hands.

Mugwort stared at the point of it in surprise, but not so much fear. Confusion, rather, was the thought of his mind.

“That’s a neat looking stick. What’s it for?”

“Stay back.”

“Why?”

“Stay back! I want to keep my life.”

“I don’t understand, why are you frightened? I thought we were getting along.”

The old man’s face twisted into a snarl of fears awakened. “You were trying to get me to lower my guard, eh? I have no intention of getting replaced!”

“I really don’t understand—”

“You’re a doppelganger.”

“Yes? I don’t understand why that scares you.”

The man laughed, the sound harsh and unfriendly. “You don’t? What, you forget what doppelgangers do to normal people like me?”

Mugwort looked at the man with genuine puzzlement, wracking his brain for an explanation that would be able to reveal why this poor man could be so scared of him.

“I… don’t think I ever learned?” Mugwort’s smile faded to an expression of concern. “My kind has ancestral memories but I didn’t get anything specific like that. I don’t know what is making you so afraid but I promise I don’t mean any harm. I just came to the city for ice cream.” He held his hands close to his chest, hunching slightly in an effort to stop being so intimidating to the terrified elder. “I’m sorry if I’ve done something to upset you.”

The old man stared at Mug for a long moment, but he didn’t flee. He also did not lower the poker.

“You’re not gonna replace me?”

“Why would I want to replace anyone?”

The old man’s eyes seemed to flash with a spiteful thought. “That’s what doppelgangers do. They take on someone’s memories and appearance, knock off the original, and take over living their life.”

Horrified, Mugwort raised his hands in an effort to look harmless, or perhaps in rejection of the notion. “That sounds horrible! Why would anyone do that?”

The old man shrugged. “Easy money, resources, whatever. Bleed dry the lives they take over. You really didn’t know?”

“No, not at all!” Mug took a few steps back and sank to the ground in shock. “… My kind really does that?”

The old man nodded, not lowering the poker but there was now pity in his brown eyes. “My sister was done got by one thirty years ago.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Mug said, looking up at the man. “I’m only eighteen, if it’s any comfort. I’ll live longer than humans like you but I’m still younger than most of your kind. You must miss her though…”

The old man’s eyes were haunted but not quite sad. “Sometimes. We didn’t get along anyway.” With a sigh, he shook his head. “So, whose body are you using then?”

“Hm?”

“Doppelgangers don’t look human naturally, even if you didn’t bond to the form.”

“I never bond to any forms,” Mug said. “I don’t wanna be Mugwort all the time.”

“Ah, that’s why your eyes are still solid white. Bonding the form locks you in fully right?”

Mugwort nodded. “Yeah. I do wish I could change my eye color sometimes though. I once saw a gene for violet eyes and it would be so cool but I can’t really splice that into my forms without bonding, and I don’t wanna get stuck as one thing. I like being able to change.”

“Splice?” For the first time, the man looked stumped.

“I like to splice genes to make my shapes,” Mug said. “I want to make them mine, not copy someone else. Humans were the toughest because there are so many cool versions of your species and so many options. Hundreds of genetic variations to choose from in one city alone. I think I spliced forty or fifty for this shape, so I don’t look like any other human.”

“I see,” the man said, a little bit of unease showing. “Seems a bit intrusive to do it without their consent.”

“Oh,” Mugwort said, wincing. “I didn’t think of that. I just wanted to fit in with you guys a little. Humans are great, and, I like being around you. I have other shapes too, like Kagu, Scintillation, Calamari—”

“I don’t need the list kid,” the old man said, lifting his hand to forestall any further extrapolation. “I can tell you didn’t mean harm by it and honestly it’s refreshing to see a doppelganger that isn’t bent on entitlement.”

“Thank you.” Mug smiled.

“Mhm. Still, I don’t trust you.”

“Why not?”

“You just revealed Mugwort ain’t your name.”

“It is my name, when I am Mugwort.”

“And when you’re not?”

“Then I’m another name.”

“But who are you underneath all that? When you’re just the doppelganger?”

Mugwort tilted his head, thinking. He never thought to name that version of himself.

“I… don’t think I ever had one for just being a doppelganger.”

Standing, Mug let his human features melt away. His copper-toned skin turned a rubbery grey-white, his hair receded and disappeared, and his nose and mouth faded until only his eyes remained on his smooth facelessness. Five fingered hands became four fingered and more akin to an amphibian than a human, and its legs underwent a similar shift, the feet splayed and digitigrade. A smooth tail appeared, tapering to a soft point at the end, and a few off color dapples appeared across his skin.

The old man raised his poker again, but the doppelganger didn’t make any effort to approach him. Its eyes, though lacking a pupil or iris, still held clear emotion in their shape. How it spoke was unclear, but the voice was not telepathic.

“I don’t have a name for when I look like this,” they said.

“Why not?”

The doppelganger shrugged. “It didn’t need one. I never usually appear like this.”

“Afraid you’ll be mobbed?”

They shook their head. “No. My base form, this form, is fragile. Easy to hurt or sicken. It’s why I made my shapes.”

The man raised a brow and lowered the poker a little. “Why tell me? I could attack you right now.”

“I trust you won’t. We’re friends right?”

“Uhhhh.”

“Friends are people who talk to each other and are nice to each other, right?”

“In a broad sense, I suppose?”

The doppelganger’s eyes crinkled at the corners with a smile. “Then we are friends! Since we talk together and you haven’t skewered me.”

“… Sure.”

Unafraid now, the doppelganger bounced on their toes a bit, tail swaying in excitement. “I’ve never made a friend while in this form before! I probably should name it- uh, you called me a doppelganger, which I am, so, how about Doppel?”

“Uh, sure kid.”

Doppel clapped their hands a few times, still jittery with excitement. “Do you have a name? I love names. I have many of them.”

“You can’t have mine.”

“I wouldn’t use yours,” Doppel said. “I like making my own names for that, but I would still love to know the name of my new friend.”

The man side-eyed the doppelganger. “This is a very strange day… fine, you may call me Aiden.”

“That is a wonderful name!” Doppel said. They glanced past him at the building Aiden came from. “What’s that?”

Aiden glanced behind him. “That’s the stockroom for my shop.”

“What is the shop for?”

“Just a general store. Food. Drink. Some clothes and necessities.”

“Can I visit, please?”

Aiden’s eyes flicked up and down Doppel’s form. “Not looking like that.”

“Oh, right.”

Doppel’s form shifted. This time, they looked shorter than Mugwort, with white feathers undercut with rosy shades like a pink cockatoo. Their tail grew longer and feathered and feet became talons. Two large, feathered wings formed on her back and her long, large ears feathered at the tips. Only her eyes remained unchanged.

“Would Scintillation be alright?” she asked, braiding back her now long, wavy hair and tightening the leather cords on her sleeves and ankles to ensure her clothes were adjusted to her new size. “I also call her Scinna.”

“I suppose,” Aiden said. “Is that shape spliced too? I didn’t know valkyries came in pink.”

“It’s a recessive gene,” Scinna said. “I loved the color though, so I brought it to the forefront by splicing two recessives to display the trait.”

“You seem pretty familiar with genetics compared to how little you know of your own kind.”

Scinna shrugged, hugging herself a little. “I can see genetics and understand them at a glance. It’s how my kind mimics even though I’ve never met another doppelganger. We have some memories in our genetics, since we don’t really have parents to teach us anything. It doesn’t hold all of our species’ knowledge though, I guess.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Aiden said. “You’re welcome to come inside but don’t think that means I truly trust you.”

“That’s okay!” Scinna said. “After you lost your sister, I get needing to earn trust.”

Scinna trailed into the building, following Aiden. “How did you know that your sister got replaced anyway? Bonding usually takes on the base personality and memories, right? And fixes the eyes and blood to look normal.”

“I know. You can do that even when they’re already dead, if the body’s still warm.”

“I didn’t know that. How did you?”

Aiden smiled.

“I never liked my sister.”