A Gentleman's Guide to Fantastic Beasts (Oneshot)

A Gentleman's Guide to Fantastic Beasts

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Commisioned by: Patreon Special

Wordcount: 2000

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The newest specimen within my tent, as is the case with most of the specimens I’ve acquired in my industrious endeavors, would’ve made Darwin roll in his grave. It was the size of two conjoined horses, had triple the number of limbs of the average beast, and quadruple the eyes. It’s chitin-based, tan exoskeleton resisted the spear thrusts of my assistants, but languished beneath the weight of weighted clubs. However, incredible mobility, immense protection, and magnificent sight would’ve validated the theory of evolution quite handily, so Darwin would hardly have fretted in regards to those particular features.

No, what he would’ve lamented to the point of rising from the grave to correct his magnificent paper, would be creature’s development in regards to consumption.

It lived in a subtropical, hot desert climate, much like the Mojave of the Western region of the United States. Diversity in terms of life was plenty, with there being many springs and streams to partake upon for much fauna and flora to flourish, as well as the wandering tribes I was born into. An apex predator with excellent eyesight, camouflage, and the ability to rapidly traverse all forms of terrain is to be expected in such a magnificent region. Yet, for some odd reason, it had the audacity to have what could only be called a mosquito’s beak for a maw. 

The absurdity of the beast known to my tribe as death incarnate upon the physical world was beyond words. Given it’s bodily mass and nature as a predator, that meant the specimen would have to always hunt down and kill large fauna… in a desert region bereft of any massive herds of animals. Given the legends passed down by tongue by new people, I’d envisioned a beast that was swifter than the wind, invisible to the naked eye, and swelling with arcane might that allowed to consume whole villages overnight. Yet, here I am before an oversized mosquito who died the moment it was restrained and clubbed to death. 

What was it supposed to live off of? How did it intend to reproduce? Could it have succeeded through the millennia and evolved to become a greater, grander predator? If no humans populated the dessert, braving the harsh environment for its strange, exotic luxuries, it would have no regular source of food. Two of these creatures, let alone a whole litter, would require a tremendous amount of area as hunting ground in order to function and reproduce. Even if hundreds of thousands, instead of thousands of humans, traversed the desert continually in migrant patterns… I doubted that this predator could have a population of more than dozen. Finally, being utterly incapable of preying upon lesser fauna and flora, while not being capable of migrating to better pastures, it could not regress or progress during hardship. 

For a legendary beast that supposedly brings down mighty champions, the specimen before me was a severe disappointment. The average giant hornets and beetles cultivated by the tribe were far more interesting. Once it’s ability to sneak about was dealt with, along with its innate abilities to cast blades of wind and pure poison, it was easier to bring in for study and dissection than either of the domestic breeds. Those two would’ve fought much more intensely, let alone some of the more dangerous insectoid creatures kept by the tribes. Instead of a magnificent, massive monster that would’ve brought me astonishment, glee, and honors by defeating, dissecting, and detailing, I am left utterly bored.

All it had for me that had any interest would be the size, shape, and nature of its arcane organ… and even that information would be nearly worthless given the creature’s ludicrous rarity. Even if its insides could be used to grant its power to weapons or an individual, it would be so scarce that the information would be nigh useless to me.

Not only was I at a loss in terms of practical and theoretical information, but money as well!

Truly, my latest venture was nothing short of a failure.

How utterly and completely disappointing.

…

Leaving my tent, I was greeted by the cold, desert air and three crescent moons amidst a field of glittering stellar swathes. Untainted by a multitude of streetlights, either using bulbs or gas, the sky was an alluring mélange of purplish, reddish, and grayish clouds. The looming plateaus in the distance, typically gigantic, tan monoliths that our guides used as landmarks, were hulking shadows that interrupted the bright vista of stars. As always, at the sight I remembered my friend Albert, and how he’d absolutely adore the sky I not looked upon. He’d spend his days charting the skies with utter glee, undoubtedly not being as disappointed as I am with any of his ventures as I was now with mine. 

The expeditionary camp sat upon a small outcropping of rocks. Torches outline the camp, some stationary and some mobile, for the sake our sentinels. Those riding larger beetles carried larger orbs that they used to direct one another by using a shutter to communicate signals through the moonlight-tinged darkness. No hornets flew at night, since torches did not fare well with both gossamer wings and the winds of flight, and they were not mighty enough for the larger, precious lanterns. Our guardians for the night will rotate over the course of the evening, so our protectors will be able to sleep in their own squat, circular tents, but those of the first shift today were missing more than a few hours of sleep for their vigilance. 

While I thought less of the creature’s death, it was understandable that those of the camp were far more enthused. Those who I recruited for the venture, typically unenthused warriors who did as they were told with dull expressions and little fanfare, were conducting a celebration. The death of the despicable, worthless beast had lifted their spirits to the point where they foraged the surrounding region with great zeal upon their mounts, so that they could hold a feast. A bonfire burned in the center of the camp, whilst some danced, sang, or played the odd instrument or two, as their mounts watched embedded and sleepy within the glimmering dunes.

The oversized arthropod with inclinations towards poison and wind was a deadly predator that preyed on human beings, thus the expedition celebrated exuberantly, and probably will through the whole night. 

However, I had little interest in gratification and glory on the short term. 

Through the shadows of the camp, I crept. The nature of desert clothing, airy, voluminous, and light, made for little noise. The soft sands also gave way to my sandals composed of leather soles and straps. The leather was the greatest expense of my wardrobe, as silks were easy to gain as massive silk worms were harvested for both their flesh and silk, while hide-bound animals hardly ever survived the desert.  I was enrobed in more silk that most ladies would ever hope to have their whole lives, but so were the rest of the expedition, so little was its worth due to the gigantism of the creatures the produced it here. While some ladies would be enraptured by the multitudes of garments that could be made of the material, I was merely pleased with how cool it kept itself while traversing through the desert, and how it allowed one to stay unseen in the night.

Soon enough, staying to within the lengthy shadows, I managed to make my way to the outcropping of rock that we’d chosen the reside beside and beneath. 

Then, beneath the three silver moons of the world, I gathered strength both natural and unnatural and launched myself towards the topmost point of the outcropping with a single bound. 

A child flying through the air, a mere shadow in the gaze of three moons, would’ve caused shock and awe and terror in my previous world. Yet, due to my deftness in evasion, I elicited no reaction in this world… not that such a movement would have elicited such emotion. I would’ve been merely followed by others atop the outcropping, pursued, and dragged into the festivities against my will. No. Here, where I now reside, is a world of mysticism, monsters, and magic. Whereas I once resided in a world of industry, science, and normalcy, where my actions would’ve brought upon great panic, I was merely evading being the guest of honor. 

I recall very little about how I first died. 

It could very well have been a violent death, as I recall a very terrible, terrible war with very great acuity. A war that saw man take to the skies with guns for the first time, where every nation seemed to wish to destroy the other, and nature was befouled to create weapons that gave men most terrible deaths in droves. It was a brutal, divisive conflict that saw thousands upon thousands die in graves they dug themselves, if not upon lands the lands that bordered those long, long graves manned by poor souls from opposing sides. I remember very clearly visiting one to recover a wounded man, before bringing him to a massive tent, where dozens upon dozens of others bled and wept and died. 

Some might consider that a mere nightmare, that such a cesspit of misery could never exist, but I remember it. I remember that cesspit of misery whenever I close my eyes. Forgetting it as a nightmare would allow me to breathe easier, and perhaps join all the festivities my new people adored to make, but to forget that place would be to forget all the other memories I brought along. Simple calculus would no longer be making its way through the tribe, nor sanitation, basic medicines, and most eminently my trove of knowledge regarding anatomy and surgery. The foul memories of trying to save screaming, bloodied men upon troughs, as others awaited the same treatment, would have to remain. It validated my means and methods of cataloguing, assessing, and processing the dangers that my tribe faced our desert.

That was the past that allowed me to go brusquely and confidently headlong in my current path, therefore I could not abandon it. 

Though I could not enjoy the carousing and merriment below, I could enjoy the quiet peace that the new world offered. 

Atop the outcropping, one can simply sit, and be a witness of the desert. It was fierce and terrifying land. An endless sea of glittering silver beneath the trio of lunar lamps that hung in a purple, iridescent night sky. Unforgiving, but containing many splendid gifts, those with brave hearts and calm minds traversed the desert, used it, and grew from it. The tribe could spare many men for many expeditions, such as my own. That alone spoke of the prosperity of my new people. And, seeing that prosperity aided by my efforts was more than enough of a balm for my few fears. 

Did they need me? No.

Was I of essence to their continued existence? Certainly not.

But, did I help meaningfully? Yes.

That was enough. 

Perhaps, another in my place would strive to be great. To use the knowledge he had in his mind to garner allies, amass power, and bring forth the multitudes of weapons that brought about his end into the new land he’d found himself in. No. Not I. I’d seen enough conflict for power, wealth, and othersuch things. There were many things I could give that would benefit the multitudes, but each one could be a detriment to them as well. A cure can be used as a poison by a merely cunning mind. Passing the ideas on to individuals who I could trust in the future was a must, for they couldn’t be left unknown forever, but that was for the future, not for my own gain.

I intended nothing more for myself than a life of finding monsters, ascertaining their weaknesses, and presenting them to the tribe.

Nothing more and nothing less.

However, as I turned my gaze towards the mountain range that ringed the city, I saw the familiar flash of cannon in the sky through the night’s silvery darkness. 

Those outside of the desert may have other plans.

I could only hope those of the woods and mountains would have no need of us.