51. The Auction Cometh

• Spellweaver: Tier 1 | Rank 4

• Shadow Clone: Tier 2 | Rank 3

  • Shade’s Mantle

    • Shadow Steel

  • Steel Weave

• Altered Metal Mass: Tier 2 | Rank 2

The days leading up to the auction went into endless training and surveillance. Lukas didn’t expect to gain a rank in Altered Metal Mass. He trained with Kwame, but mostly to get used to altering the mass of objects he was holding. For the time being, he mostly used it to empower downward swings but was sure he’d eventually find other uses. The upgrade that came with it surprised Lukas. Unlike Shadow Clone’s ranks, it wasn’t the core ability that improved, but the tier-two addition. The mass alteration of metal objects would now linger for a few seconds longer after he stopped touching them.

Meanwhile, Spellweaver’s rank was a surprise. He wasn’t intentionally training the ability, but attempting to develop a new shadow spell and therefore a new type of clone. Lukas failed to achieve what he wanted in time, but welcomed the reduced mental strain when using magic.

The new spell in question was a modification of the Fire Whip spell found in Penelope’s texts. Spellweaver and experimentation helped him use the base model to create Shadow Whip. Ideally, Lukas wanted a twisted Shadowsteel chord, but he lacked the necessary finesse. Instead, he shaped Shade’s Mantle into a thick, twisted strip and granted it enough solidity to function as a thick length of rope.

Lukas usually hated whips. He believed they were far too challenging to control, and even in the hands of a master, they had limited use. Arcane Manipulation and Shaping helped overcome most issues that a whip faced. He had the option of sharpening the top foot, turning it into a blade, or adding sharpened spikes along the length. A clone wielding two such creations was bound to be great at watching his back or binding and capturing a target. Tripping a foe or pulling them off balance had the potential to make all the difference in a fight.

It was unlikely they’d hold up against Iskander’s rich and powerful, and their minions. It would take considerable raw strength or magical power to deter someone like Mister Grey, the giant reverse mermen, or a mutated phaser. He’d need a precise, well-aimed strike to take them down. However, what Lukas currently needed wasn’t the means to defeat enemies but to slow them down and buy time. He needed the means to escape when everything fell apart, and he had a strong suspicion that it would.

Need to make do with what I have. 

The recent thievery had come with a few valuable prizes. Lukas could only hope they would save his skin when push came to shove.

Thunder Strike
Sound and impact magic flows through the mace. Activating its enchantment will make the head sing. Each strike won’t just break bones but disrupt the nervous system and shake the struck to the core. Burning all of the magical stores will release a thunderous boom, knocking everyone but the wielder aside, ripping eardrums, and concussing all the affected.

Of all the things the clone had stolen, it was Lukas’s favorite new piece. He hadn’t yet tested it in battle, but was sure it would prove invaluable no matter how big or powerful an opponent they took on. Lukas only activated the enchantment once to get a feeling of the ‘singing.’ The vibrations travelled up the arm and shoulder, and down his back. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but would just require some effort to get used to. 

The knives weren’t anything special. One came with the ability to hemorrhage wounds and prevent clotting. It would help give the most minor cuts the chance to turn lethal. The other had a numbing effect; anyone cut by it would gradually lose feeling in their limbs. Subsequent cuts would speed up the effect.

 Gauntlet of Guarding
The gauntlet’s enchantment disperses the power of incoming blows, reducing their power and injury to the wielder. The magic within may be flared to erect a circular barrier with a two-foot barrier. 

It was far better than any shield Lukas could find on the market. The fact that the gauntlet was light and didn’t deter wrist and finger mobility made it perfect for his needs. The piece of armor comfortably fit on his left forearm and almost came up to his elbow.

In the end, he kept the gauntlet and the runic shortsword for himself, storing them in the journal’s storage. They just about fit, sitting diagonally across the cuboid space. El-One, a high-mass bruiser clone, received a new shield and the mace. He divided the rest of his weapons among the rest. Two of them had the stalker specialization, and he made the last one a mage. All three of them had low mass.

“It’s fascinating watching you prepare,” Penelope commented. She wore her usual dress alongside several rune-covered trinkets. She wore her hair in a long braid decorated with thimble-sized bands. Azure motes of light shimmered within. “It's hard to decide whether you’re just that good a liar, or I thought so little of you that I didn’t care enough to look closely. These clones of yours. Their dedication. Lack of restraint or fear. Drive. The scholars would go mad. They’d want to study that ability of yours, your soul, and mind in the minutest of details.”

“That’s precisely why I don’t want any big organizations or superpowers finding out about what I can do,” Lukas said, looking over the high-mass clone once more. He had granted all of them a Steel Weave. The others looked no different from Lukas, but El-One’s skin had a slight metallic shimmer. “Your people. The council. They turned you into a weapon and a tool, didn’t they? What’s keeping them from doing the same to me?”

The sorcerer didn’t have an answer for the question. It seemed she knew he was correct. If Lukas wasn’t strong enough to protect himself, he’d be at the mercy of more powerful beings. It was the primary reason he had come to Fracture. Many considered it a miracle he had survived as long as he had, functioning as he did. Minarv constantly worried that if not Silverspine, one of her rivals would track Lukas down and eliminate him for growing too powerful and working mostly unchecked.

“The conclave has its issues, but they’re not as bad as you think they might be,” Penelope finally said. “They might consider you at first. But there is plenty of room for mobility, building trust, reputation, and working freely. I’m not forced to do these jobs; I take them on because I want to. I have a vested interest in anything involving dragonics, draconic magic, Wyrmkin, and other individuals like me.”

“Other people with dragon blood?” Lukas asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Not all of them are well-adjusted like me. The power and blood, when trapped in a human body, often come with madness and rage. I put them to peace for my sake and to give the others a chance. If not, guilds and nations who hunt us down will have an excuse to return and rise again.”

“How are you so talented at making a man feel bad about himself?” Lukas laughed. “Here I was with a superiority complex over the influence and privilege that comes with being a member of the conclave. Now, I feel bad for not trusting you before.”

Penelope smiled. “I’m full of surprises.” She looked him up and down. “That outfit is fine for the clones, but you need to change. Can’t walk into the auction dressed like that. Everyone will take one look at you, know you’re there for some sort of service and not as Mister Grey’s mysterious guest.”

“I thought as much. Fortunately, our delve came with excellent loot, and I kept all the proceeds for myself.” Lukas grinned. “I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“I don’t as long as you didn’t keep anything vital from me.”

“Believe me, I don’t intend to make that mistake again. It was mostly trinkets and wyrmfire forged equipment. There were also a couple of essence spheres: lightning and change. I sold everything except the essences and reinvested it all in a more occasion-appropriate outfit.”

“The camp didn’t have anything more valuable? No enchanted weapons? No powerful armor?”

“Nothing we could carry out while escaping the horde and the tunnel coming down,” Lukas answered. He pulled a bracelet out of his pocket. The design and runework resembled the now-empty belt buckle he owned. “There’s also this. I need new spells for them.”

“What do you have in mind?” Esther asked, sticking her head through the doorway. 

“I don’t know. Ideally, something that will allow me to change my face. Maybe some sort of defense.”

“That’s a difficult ask. Give me the Essence of Change and Essence of Currents. I’ll see what I can do.”

_______________________________

Lukas reported to the distillery with only half of what he wanted. He wore a fine suit of charcoal. The velvety material had jumped out at Lukas, and though cheap, matched the outfits worn by the patrons of the Nightingale’s Rest. The shopkeeper tried to sell him a white silk shirt, but Lukas went with a red satin one instead. It had ruffles, which Lukas hated, but it was more economical. A white cravat brought it all together.

I hope I’m pretty enough to be Mister Grey’s prom date.

The man’s staff and entourage shot Lukas knowing looks as he marched into the venue. He had come alone and unarmed as discussed. The clones waited outside: one in the alley just outside the property, the rest on nearby roofs. 

It would’ve been a lot safer to send one of the clones instead. But he couldn’t risk Mister Grey requesting identification services and failing to deliver. Lukas was supposed to be well-rested for the job and not have spent any magic or wasted any uses of his ability prior to it.

There was no guarantee of it working, but Lukas had come well prepared for the job. His gear was ready, Shade’s Mantle sat compressed under his suit—it blended brilliantly with the charcoal suit—and he also had a low-mass Steel Weave for additional protection. More importantly, Lukas was an unknown. Barely anyone knew what he could do, and the few who did had little knowledge about the extent and potency of his abilities.

The element of surprise should get me through the night.

The gang didn’t appear as well put together anymore. Clothes, makeup, accessories, and all looked fine. But eyes were sunken in and bloodshot, and skin pallid. It was clear that all of them were burning their candles at both ends, trying to figure out what had happened and to persecute the perpetrators.

The clones had noted growing friction between the Grey Rats and the city guard. Apparently, they had also spotted Captain Stefan Santana in the black market, haggling over valuables and heirlooms. A stalker had also followed him into the docks and seen the man meeting with ship captains. He was preparing to flee the city, likely scared for his life and that of his family. The coven probably still had use for him, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t silence him eventually. 

Lukas hardened the shadows around his torso, turning them into steel. It provided a moderate sense of security, but he doubted it would hold up against a surprise attack. A pair of Shadow Whips also wrapped around his arms. Lukas prepared to flare the mantle as he ascended the stairs to the tavern’s first floor. His clones had seen Mister Grey erratic, angry, and violent. The man had killed a five ‘ratlings,’ three guards, a pair of slaves, and a brothel servant in the past week. He was not in a stable state, but it was clear that the man was closing in on the truth. 

Once at the top of the stairs, Lukas inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling. He steeled his nerves, reminded himself once again that not sending a clone wasn’t a stupid decision. Finally, he marched to the proprietor’s throne.

“Lukas Zaun!” Mister Grey exclaimed, flashing a wide smile. Unlike his staff and the man’s entourage, he appeared well-rested and not as mad. He wore clean, pressed clothes lacking blood splatters. It was a big change from everything he had seen over the last couple of days. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. Looking sharp and ready for tonight, I see. Handsome, isn’t he, K—” He caught himself, eyes drifting to his right where Kelpie usually sat. His smile remained, but the light in his eyes faded. “I hope you’re all ready and fresh for tonight.”

“Full of magic. Focused. Ready.” Lukas flashed his widest and most pleasant smile. “Are you well? I heard of—”

“It’s for the best if we don’t get into that tonight,” the giant man interrupted, his smile faltering for a moment. “Tonight is going to be busy, stressful, and you need to be discreet. Think you can manage that.”

“I don’t have a middle name, but if I did, it would be discreet,” Lukas joked, hoping to lighten the mood. It didn’t seem to work. “Intelligence gathering and sneaking around just happen to be where I excel.”

“If you think you excel at the latter, we might be in trouble.” Mister Grey laughed. “My ratlings have had little trouble tracking and trailing you. You’re harder to follow than your brother. I’ll give you that. But you’re not as good as you think you are.”

Trailing the clones, you mean. Your ratlings are not nearly as good as you think they are.

The woman who had once threatened to turn Lukas into an identifying slave came running up the stairs. “The carriage is here,” she said, breathless. “Do you need more time?”

“No. We’re ready to go.” Mister Grey rose from his giant throne, hands running down his shirt and coat, straightening creases. Lukas heard faint metallic sounds, like those of the links of chainmail clinking. “Unless you need more time, Lukas?”

“I do not,” Lukas answered. “However, there is the matter of payment. We agreed that I’ll get a shard for just showing up.”

“Ah. Yes. How could I forget?” Mister Grey reached into his coat pocket, over a pocket he had touched seconds ago. He withdrew two shards. One featured a lone blue sphere that sparked and crackled. The other contained a twisting and changing chunk of biomass. One second it was fleshy, the next scaly, and then furry before the cycle repeated, and a couple of other forms occasionally slipped in. “Which would you like now, and which afterward? Given your brother”

“Mind if I identify them first?”

“Won’t that eat into your magic stores and identification charges?”

“Not enough to matter. Starting with full charges and magic, I can use the ability about two dozen times. Is that more than enough?”

“Go on in that case,” Mister Grey said. “Ten uses should be more than enough.”

Shard of Static
Shocking Core(Heart): Your heart becomes a source of static. It gradually generates and stores lightning until it reaches capacity. The lightning may be channelled through the body and expelled through touch or woven into spells. You will also gain resistance to lightning. Spells, abilities, and naturally occurring energies of the same rank or lower than your Heart Pillar will struggle to hurt you.

Shard of Growth
Aura of Regeneration(Heart): Your heart generates and radiates healing energies. All within the aura’s range washes away tiredness, fatigue, and slows the progression of illnesses or anything that may bring harm to the body. Focus everything on a target, greatly increasing the potency of the regeneration, or you may also weave the healing energies into healing or empowering spells.

Lukas took the Shard of Static. It wasn’t the most potent of shards, but he had Minarv’s ritual leather and plenty of shards for upgrading. The Shard of Growth’s Heart-Pillar ability was far more potent in its base version. It would help him survive a great deal of things, but it was for someone dedicated to group combat and willing to stick to a support role.

“Thank you,” Lukas said. “You have no idea how hard I’ve been looking for something of the sort.”

“I’m glad.” Mister Grey smiled, returning the other shard to his pocket. “I know your brother is no more, and I’m sorry about that. But if you help me find what I want, you can also have the other shard. As promised.”

As promised.