It would be tempting to consider Fiona Paracelsus’ first successful attempt to create a homunculus. However, Paracelsus himself did not consider her successful. She was simply the first attempt to not break down into individual ingredients within a few days. Instead, she continued to absorb nutrients and grow, eventually having to be transferred to progressively larger flasks.
She remembered little of those early days. Mostly because her mind wasn’t designed to hold on to memories as conscious recollections. As she grew, however, she developed a desire to explore and began to move and develop senses. At first, she did not create traditional sensory organs. Since the goo that made up her body could react to just about anything, she found that all she had to do was adjust it to experience light and sound without changing anything about herself that could be observed from the outside.
Even if he couldn’t tell what all she was experiencing, Paracelsus was pleased to see his creation start to move. He would remove her from her flask and experiment with her on a table in his lab, placing objects nearby and seeing how she reacted to them, carefully noting how each interaction played out.
He would talk to her, as well, and she would listen. At first she simply enjoyed the various sounds, but eventually she began to realize that certain sounds meant certain things. She didn’t understand what communication was, but she decided that she wanted to try repeating the sounds, to see how Paracelsus would react.
However, she found that making the appropriate sounds was more difficult than she realized. In her blob-like state, she could do very little. She needed to change what she was made of. Thankfully, she discovered that changing was little different from moving. Her body could become hard and rigid or soft and pliable. It could even imitate the objects Paracelsus used to test her. The only thing it couldn’t do was break apart and come back together. Any part of her that separated from the bulk was no longer her, becoming nothing more than whatever form it happened to be at the time.
Fiona was delighted with these new discoveries. The only problem was that none of these new forms allowed her to make sounds. This was frustrating as she was now finding that the desire to speak was overwhelming. She didn’t understand why, but it seemed that speaking would open entirely new worlds to her. She needed to figure out a new approach.
One thing Paracelsus hadn’t done during Fiona’s life was touch her directly. He would always handle her with gloves. She figured out that this was just something covering his real body when she saw him remove the gloves. Whatever was under those gloves, she realized, was a secret being kept from her. And so one day, when Paracelsus was writing notes at his desk, she reached out, stretching across the space between the table where he kept her and his desk, and touched him.
He jerked his hand away the moment she did it, but in that moment she discovered what she needed. A small piece of him, so small that it could not be seen, had separated from him and it contained the answers she needed. She had thought that she would simply discover a new material that she could form her body into, but instead she discovered an entire map. He was made of many materials, many different complicated parts. She had to refocus more of her body on thought just to comprehend it all.
It took an entire night of trial and error. Forming and shaping and breaking down and reforming, until the next day, Paracelsus entered his lab to discover a hideous approximation of a small child laying next to the shattered remains of her flask.
Her first word was “pencil.”
With some coaxing from Paracelsus, Fiona was able to give herself the correct number of limbs and a more symmetrical face and soon looked like a perfectly normal boy of about five years old. After that, there was no more lab or flasks or nutrients. Instead there was a bedroom and clothes and normal food. She found that her new brain took care of much of her body’s complicated work, like pumping blood and digestion, without her even trying. Instead she could focus on learning more words and meeting people and playing like a normal child.
Paracelsus kept her indoors, not allowing her outside without supervision and not allowing her off his property at all. As a result, for the next couple of years she had no interaction with other children at all. The only faces she knew were Paracelsus, his servants, and the occasional guest.
Paracelsus enforced strict rules on her, punishing her if her posture was wrong or if she didn’t properly pronounce a word. She often made mistakes, spilling a glass at dinner or leaving out a toy. She found it impossible to remember everything he wanted her to do, and when she did slip up, she would wish that there was a way to go back and redo it, more to avoid Paracelsus’ disappointment than his punishments. As he explained, these rules existed to ensure that Fiona grew up to be the perfect man. However, they seemed so random and arbitrary and often appeared out of nowhere with no warning. When she broke a rule that she had never been told of, Paracelsus would tell her that it was “common sense.” “Common sense,” she realized, meant that it was something everyone but her understood. As if there were some map to human interaction that she simply didn’t have. She would often envision a future in which she became Paracelsus’ “perfect man” and all the rules would finally make sense and she finally understood how to behave and that somehow all of this would make her happy.
Despite how hard she had worked to speak, Fiona was a quiet child, talking more to imaginary friends than anyone around her. Around the servants, she would become nervous, afraid of breaking some rule. Around guests it was even worse, because they seemed to have an entirely different set of rules, and she would hardly speak at all when they were present. Often, she would quietly follow the servants around, observing their work, much to their discomfort.
One of the maids liked to feed scraps of food to the neighborhood’s stray cats. As a result, they would often come crying to the kitchen door, hoping for food. Fiona would at first watch them with ambivalence; by the time she met them, she had learned to fear new things, but eventually began to befriend them. She found that she loved how soft they were, the silly way they played, the strange noises they made, and the way they rubbed against her. When she was alone, she would often pretend to be a cat, pouncing on her toys or cuddling with her stuffed animals and imitating a cat’s purr.
She had not changed much since becoming human. She would make small alterations when Paracelsus asked her to, and would occasionally grow as he grew annoyed when she failed to for too long. She would make small changes in private, too, often experimenting with different hair lengths and colors when her father wasn’t looking. However, she had never made any major changes, like growing extra limbs or changing what her skin was made of, as she was afraid that she would be unable to change back.
One day, though, she was feeling unusually bold, and as an experiment she altered her ears, making them triangular and fluffy, like a cat’s. She was so happy with the results that she decided to keep them, even though it would guarantee punishment from her father. That evening, when she was called to dinner, she pretended like everything was normal, hoping that somehow her Paracelsus would let her change pass without comment.
Paracelsus was predictably enraged and demanded that she change back, threatening all manner of punishment if she didn’t. Fiona knew that she should obey her father. All of her life, she had been taught that he was her guide to being perfect. But there was something about these ears that spurred her to disobey. For the first time, it felt like her body was truly hers. Her name, her appearance, her clothes had all been given to her by her father, to build her into the man she was supposed to be. But she had never felt a connection with this man. His name didn’t fit her, his behavior didn’t feel natural to her. But now, with these ears, she finally had a sense of who she was. The only thing she knew about this person was that he was “the boy with ears like a cat,” but that was still more than she knew about her father’s “perfect man.”
And so she had refused. When Paracelsus didn’t relent, Fiona had fled the table and hid in her room. Paracelsus followed her, beat her, and told her she was confined to her room until she changed back. These forms of punishment were not new to Fiona. And because they were not new, Fiona realized that there was nothing Paracelsus would do to her if she disobeyed that he hadn’t already done. With that, the world of rules and behavior and perfection that she had been presented with suddenly shattered before her. Whether she tried to follow the rules or not, the outcome would be the same. Her father would hurt her or otherwise punish her. She would always disappoint him, so why continue to try to avoid it? She did not remain in her room.
Paracelsus realized that a different approach was necessary when he discovered Fiona in the halls of his house, pretending to be a cat, stalking about pouncing on a dust bunny. She was, he realized, becoming strange. It was difficult to admit to himself that his approach was failing, but he forced himself to consider that he was not providing Fiona with something that would make her into the perfect man. He thought back to his own childhood. His time at school, he realized, had helped shape him into the man he was. There had been an entire class of other students happy to correct any oddities he developed. Paracelsus had been concerned that other children would be a corrupting influence on Fiona, but perhaps being around children who knew how to behave was exactly what she needed.
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And so Fiona was sent to school. As Paracelsus had predicted, she was bullied relentlessly for her strange appearance and behavior. Her first few years at school were utterly miserable. The other students would push her, spit on her, call her names, and throw things at her, and she could not find a way to make them stop. Just as her father would punish her no matter how hard she tried to behave, she assumed that the other students would bully her even if she tried to win their approval, so it never occurred to her to look or act more normal.
Eventually, just as her classmates were on the cusp of puberty, she discovered a solution. She observed that the larger boys did not get bullied as much as the smaller ones. And so she began eating more and more, giving her body the mass it needed to produce height and muscle. She discovered that, indeed, the bullying seemed to relent when she was large enough to intimidate the boys. For the next few years, she continued to grow, always staying just larger than the largest boys.
During this time, Paracelsus had accepted that there was a strong chance that he had failed to create a homunculus who would become the perfect man. Fiona was at once timid and defiant. Weak and stubborn. All qualities he had intended and failed to eliminate. Another attempt was necessary.
After a few tries, Paracelsus managed to create another homunculus, who would come to be named Abigail. She developed much more quickly than Fiona, helped in part by Fiona frequently carrying her around the house, talking to her and telling her the names of different objects. Now that he knew the trick to teaching a homunculus how to take human form, Paracelsus provided a sample of his blood early on, giving Abigail the information she needed and, with some coaxing, she, too, was able to shape herself into a human boy.
Abigail adored her older sister and would often follow Fiona around the mansion, imitating her actions. For her part, Fiona was at first happy to find a younger sibling, but quickly became troubled when Abigail would be punished for imitating her disobedience. As a result, Fiona would encourage Abigail to follow the rules even as she herself broke them.
Paracelsus sent Abigail to school starting at a younger age, in hopes that it would prevent her from developing Fiona’s eccentricities. At school, either due to her own charisma or changing attitudes amongst children, Abigail flourished. She was very popular and received no bullying aside from some light teasing. Her teachers adored her energetic attitude and intelligence. It was for this reason, perhaps, that teacher and student alike found it charming when she grew cat-like ears that resembled her sister’s.
As an explanation, Abigail told her classmates that all homunculi grow cat-like ears at a certain age, pointing to Fiona as an example. Paracelsus was, of course, mortified. Everything had appeared to be going well with Abigail. He tried to convince her to change back through lectures and threats of punishment, but he made the mistake of saying that her strange appearance would be rejected by her classmates, something she already knew wasn’t true, so like Fiona, she stayed firm and refused to change back, despite the punishments she was dealt.
As a teenager, Fiona finally made a friend. She was a new student, a small, confident girl with short hair who frequently wore a mixture of men’s and women’s clothing. This girl was drawn to Fiona’s unique appearance, and the two would often have long conversations about their lives and the troubles their parents caused them. Fiona was usually nervous and timid around this girl, constantly waiting for the time when she would make the wrong move and the girl would turn against her. She knew that with her, as with all people, there was an unspoken set of rules and that she had no way of knowing when she was close to breaking one and ruining her friendship. So she was as cautious as possible, always allowing her friend to take the lead or take initiative, and following along once she was sure that was what was desired of her. Suddenly friendship, something she had never known she had needed, was the most important thing to her. Others found friendship more easily than she did and indeed, this girl had several other friends. Fiona needed her more than she needed Fiona, so it was up to Fiona to do whatever she could to maintain this friendship.
She developed a fascination with the girl’s appearance, for the first time noticing the way another girl’s body was shaped compared to her own. There was something about the way she was curved, the sound of her voice, her soft skin and large eyes that made Fiona realize that her own body seemed hideous and clunky by comparison. In short, she slowly realized that she wanted to be a girl. It didn’t take long for her to resolve to attempt the change. Unfortunately, this was a much bigger change than growing cat ears, and she no longer knew how to read samples of people the way she had with her father, nor did she even remember having done so.
By studying anatomy, she was able to work out what parts needed to change and what parts needed to be created. Much of the differences between men and women, she discovered, were related to reproduction. She decided not to trouble herself with that, at least not for now, and instead focus on altering herself in such a way that she would be indistinguishable from any other girl, even if she were naked. Taking it slowly, afraid of hurting herself or changing something that couldn’t be changed back, she managed to alter her body over the course of several days, keeping her large size and muscles, but softening her appearance and adjusting the shape, as well as a few other things, until she had the results she desired.
Paracelsus was furious. He hadn’t yet completely given up on Fiona; in fact he had been happy with her increased height and muscular growth, but becoming a woman was completely unacceptable. He told her that she would be a freak if she didn’t change back, that no one would ever accept her. He told her that she was doomed to a life of torment and regret. However, she was much larger than him now and his words no longer seemed to carry the weight they once did. Fiona considered it unfortunate how a person’s size seemed to control their power both physically and socially, but she considered herself lucky that she had so much control over it.
The other students started bullying her again. Something about her change seemed to rally them and they considered it such a breach of social mores that even her large size could no longer intimidate them. Fiona’s friend, who Fiona was excited to show off her new body to, was also not pleased. She asked Fiona to change back. This placed Fiona in a difficult position, as she had long ago decided never to say no to her friend. So instead she lied and said she couldn’t. She knew that lying was wrong and that her friend would not be happy with her, so she convinced herself that the lie was true, and that she could no longer alter her shape. This was not enough for the girl, though, who had developed a romantic interest in Fiona and insisted that she try to find a way to change back. In the end, Fiona decided not to continue her schooling.
Abigail, always following in her older sister’s footsteps, became a girl a year later. Once again, she weathered Paracelsus’ insults and punishments until the alchemist gave up. Her charisma continued to carry her at school, and she told her classmates that as with the ears, all homunculi started off as boys but then became girls. The other students were impressed, and several expressed their own desire to transition.
Paracelsus had already begun his third attempt, realizing that Abigail had many of the same flaws as Fiona. The third attempt, who would become Melanie, proved particularly difficult in the early phases. She refused to take in more than a little nutrients and would not grow, despite all the coaxing her sisters could give her. When she finally did take on human form, she was tiny, only a few inches tall. Paracelsus was quick to give up on her and did not stop Fiona from convincing her to grow wings. He hardly noticed when she became a girl a few years later.
As Fiona neared adulthood, a fourth attempt, who would become Alice, was made. Paracelsus worked to keep both Abigail and Fiona from influencing Alice and forbade them from spending time with her. Melanie, however, seemed to be beneath his notice. She was delighted to have a younger sibling and would spend hours with Alice at first in the lab, then in Alice’s bedroom, talking to her and teaching her about the world. This was fortunate for Alice, as Melanie was her only reprieve from her father’s harsher-than-ever discipline. Paracelsus had decided that the mistake he had made with his older children was that he had been too lax, and so he treated every mistake of Alice’s with a level of harsh cruelty that shocked even Fiona and Abigail.
The two eventually grew so disgusted with Paracelsus’ treatment of Alice that they decided to remove her from the situation. Together, the three of them finally left Paracelsus’ mansion, finding an apartment in Port Cullis’ poorer district. They asked Melanie to join them, but since Paracelsus had already begun his fifth attempt, she elected to stay and take care of their newest sibling. Fiona visited occasionally, usually to warn Paracelsus to not treat any future children as he had Alice.
With no income, Fiona and her sisters were in danger of starving. Fiona found a job working at a tavern, but she did not stay there long as a passing group of adventurers noticed her large size and recruited her into their party. With that, Fiona joined the Guild and began her career as a warrior. She found that she loved fighting and was a natural at learning the different techniques of swordplay. However, her habit of hesitating in the heat of battle earned her a reputation as a coward and she frequently was moved from team to team, never quite finding one that fit.
Since Fiona’s income was inconsistent, Abigail, too, was forced to find work for both herself and Alice; they eventually became sailors. Alice loved the ocean and, studying fish, she eventually developed gills and several other aquatic characteristics to improve her swimming. She also followed in her sisters’ footsteps and became a woman.
Fiona only met her youngest sister, Lillian, a few times before the girl disappeared into the woods. Even that, it seemed, was preferable to being a man to the children of Paracelsus.