50. Armed With Shadowsteel

Memories of Earth had faded during Lukas’s sixty-odd years on the Realm of Greater Beings. Core memories remained, but the people in them had blurred. Names, roles, and emotions lingered, but faces and voices had left long ago. 

Now, as his experiences of the Realm of Greater Beings slowly left him, everything from his first twenty years came rushing back. It was a bittersweet experience. He treasured memories of the few friends and loved ones he had. However, the knowledge of them all being long dead stung. He missed them during his early days following the first transmigration, but he had learned to cope over the years.

Grief. It was a silly thing. Lukas didn’t like it. So, he pushed it all down and focused on the task at hand.

“All mages must master three fundamental techniques to become efficient combat casters. Shaping grants, attacks, and defences form. Manipulation comes with control and finesse. Emission is where mages turn when they want raw power and range.”

Neither Esther nor Penelope had taught him Emission. They had mentioned the technique in passing, but did not elaborate. It seemed Emission mostly focused on pumping energy into a physical or elemental projectile and then launching it at a target. Lukas imagined it was how Penelope’s fiery projectiles function. It wouldn’t surprise him if she first compressed and shaped the flames and then used manipulation to rotate the conjuration before shooting it using emission.

Lukas didn’t have enough magic or the mental fortitude to assault his enemies with raw power. He had to rely on his mastery of the fundamentals to make the most out of his arsenal. 

First, he ripped a scrap from Shade’s Mantle. Shaping helped twist and stretch it into a six-inch-long needle. After hardening the shadows into steel, Lukas manipulated the creation to make it spin rapidly. The rotations pulled in all additional scraps he added, saving him additional effort and drain. He only had to invest magic to harden the pieces. The projectile doubled in length and also gained girth. It seemed to vibrate as energy levels increased.

It took considerable effort to hold the bolt steady. It wobbled violently, threatening to fly off on its own. Instead of setting the projectile free, he shaped the energy threatening to break free. He created a funnel near the rear for the excess magic to fly free. A final bit of manipulation helped him correct the creation’s angle and give it a final push. The bits he had picked up from his copied texts helped add additional power.

The Shadowsteel bolt shot forth, screeching, as the wind caught on the uneven ridges and ripples. It didn’t remain steady and true. The projectile missed the target, striking the wall just to its left, cracking the surface and digging in a couple of inches.

Kwame whistled. “Far more power than what one would expect of a tier-two. I’d pull back if I were you. Prioritize finesse and precision.”

“I guessed as much. It's far too loud as well.” Lukas sighed. “The base six-inch version is much smoother and far quieter. I wouldn’t want to add Silencing Shadows to the bolt. It would only increase the cost and strain.”

“Keep the spell cheap. Aim it well. Make it second nature and easy to put together so you can fire more.” The quartermaster fell silent as Lukas attempted to call the projectile back, but it was well outside of his arcane range. “Or, you could not fire them at all. Start with a couple and manipulate them around yourself. Turn them into mid-range weapons, ensuring nothing gets close.”

“Good call. Maybe I should save the tethers for close-range defense.”

Lukas tried again. He only created a spinning six-inch needle. It didn’t wobble and threaten to break free of his control. There wasn’t any excess energy to funnel and use for propulsion either. Instead, Lukas burned magic to push the bolt. “Frar. Bryna.” It flew forth faster than the previous version and didn’t make any sound. 

The projectile struck the target. It wasn’t a bullseye, but Lukas didn’t miss or strike too close to the edge. The Shadowsteel needle shot through the bullseye and dug three inches into the wall. There weren’t as many cracks, and the few that appeared weren’t as large.

“You’re right,” Lukas said. “This is far better. It also costs only two-thirds of the empowered version. Being cheaper and simpler also leaves more room for modifications.”

Kwame shrugged. “I can only provide practical ideas for battle. Ranged attack and magic aren’t my specialty. Confirm with your teachers, but I think this is far better than the other options.”

Lukas walked toward the wall, mentally tugging on the projectiles. He kept going until they responded. They started wobbling when he was approximately twenty feet away. The larger of the pair dissolved once free of the wall, and most of it had already crumbled and faded out of existence. Meanwhile, the smaller needle returned to Lukas for reuse.

“Making the needle dance with the sharpness and haste spells attached to it can be threatening enough,” Kwame stated. “Add your sword and spear skills to the mix, and you’ll be a terrifying threat at all ranges. Speaking of.” Kwame nodded at the one-handed mace that hung from Lukas’s hip. It had replaced the Three-Stage Spear. “Why not train your tier-two shard ability with that beauty? Cover your weaknesses.”

“In all honesty, melee combat is supposed to be a last resort for me,” Lukas replied. “Although.” He paused, drawing the mace. Lukas had Shade’s Mantle flow down his arm and up the weapon’s shaft. He wrapped the metal in black and slowly started solidifying shadows from the base. The shaft grew, gaining a couple of inches. He also made the flanges longer. “No reason why I can’t use Shadowsteel to increase my reach.”

“And shouldn’t Alter Metal Mass work with Shadowsteel?”

“It does and is what I had in mind. The more metal something has, the more I can alter its weight.”

It took a few minutes of adjusting the Shadowsteel’s distribution to balance the weapon at neutral mass. He could just about comfortably handle the weight, but even then, during practice swings, it felt like he was losing control. He could imagine a vanguard clone making the most of such shaping and adding extensions, spikes, or more to the weapon, increasing its potency. Lukas moved the mass slider to its lowest point. The speed with which he moved the bulky two-handed weapon almost felt comical. 

Under Kwame’s instruction, he took it to a nearby training dummy and struck it a handful of times. The lowered mass didn’t change how much force he could exert. Reach. Hard strikes. It wasn’t ideal but not the worst. He knocked the dummy around, which would likely break a handful of bones. He attempted to change the mace’s mass just before the moment of striking. The weight almost pulled him off balance every time. If it were a real fight, his opponents would’ve surely taken advantage of the wide openings.

In the end, he settled for working with gravity and only moved the mass slider during a two-handed down swing. The mace ripped through the dummy, crushing its abdomen, lower half, and denting the iron-wood stake that held it up. Lukas was sure that another strike would be enough to tear through it. Altering his own mass for more speed or strength would’ve allowed him to achieve the feat in a single strike.

“The deep gods have mercy.” Kwame whistled. “With that kind of power, I’d fight up close. It's so much more fun.” 

 Hope the clones get the power to use shard abilities soon. Alter Metal Mass would otherwise pretty much go to waste. Steel Weave is great, but not nearly enough. 

Between Shade’s Mantle, Shadowsteel, Steel Weave, and Alter Metal Mass, he could foresee his non-mage clones turning into a terrifying threat. Then there was Spellweaver. Any mage or shadow-specialized clone armed with the shard ability would make for a potent battlefield companion. 

“Why not be good at both?” Lukas asked. “Everything I’ve learned thus far has been in the pursuit of learning magic. Everything you taught me, all the training, it was so I could get my magic shard and make the most of it.”

“I don’t know how you find the time. Your progress in melee combat. The rapid arcane development. Everything you and your brother accomplished in so little time—my condolences, by the way. We’ve been scratching our heads thinking about how you pulled all of that off. It’s hard to believe and even harder to understand.”

Lukas fell silent. He withdrew all shadows, returning the mace to normal. “We pushed ourselves too hard for far too long. It's why all of this happened. We took too many risks down there. Elvis did what he did so Penelop and I—”

“Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t ever do that to yourself. It’s not your fault.” Kwame sighed, placing a hand on Lukas’s shoulder. “This is part of the job. Don’t make your brother’s noble sacrifice your fault. What you did helped stop the Elder Wyrmkin and uncover their plot. Be proud of what you and your brother did. The city of Iskander might only publicly recognize the Cold Fire Sorcerer for the victory, but everyone knows that you also had a hand in it.”

If only you knew.

________________________________________

Penelope didn’t hand over her prisoner. Instead, she had him shackled and gagged in one of Esther’s more secure stalls for a week before she finally approached him. Lukas let it slip that he could understand them but didn’t allude to why, letting the sorcerer draw her own conclusions. She included him in the interrogation.

The wait let the creature stew. Just enough food and water kept him nourished, but it wasn’t enough for him to regain strength. Wards painted onto the walls also created a space devoid of magic that made it impossible for the Elder Wyrmkin to recover his stores. So, when they finally began the interrogation, the trembling specimen was more than cooperative.

“Name?” Bass took the lead, marching back and forth. He stood as tall as a panther, and his wings were different. All the feathers seemed to have shrunk into nothing. Only two skinny appendages that ended in sharp spikes remained. One sat folded against his back while the other traced the straw-covered floor, scraping against the hard, rough surface like metal on wood. 

“Shae’heed,” the creature answered.

Lukas stood in a corner watching and listening. He had offered his translation services, but Penelope didn’t need them. She understood everything through her familiar. 

“How did you enter the city, Shae?”

“It’s Shae’heed.”

“I’m calling you Shae or Heed, prisoner,” Bass said. “You either answer while I ask nicely, or we hand you over to people who won’t be as pleasant.” His claw dug into the wood as he walked, drawing a line and digging out a spiraling strand of fiber. “Answer my quest. Shae.”

“Ship. Slave ship. Big slave ship. Shamin came first, only with her guard. We follow. Twos. Threes. Never alone. Never more.”

“And this was through the secret docks, yes? The one on the eastern side, shielded by the cliffs.”

Shae nodded. 

“Ask him how they entered the undercity,” Penelope said.

Much to their surprise, she didn’t need a translation. “Tunnels. We follow slaves. We walk long way. They go up. We go down. It long way down. We get lost. People help. People die. Monster come. Shamin save us.”

“He’s got loose lips, doesn’t he?” Penelope chuckled. “See if he knows who helped them. We need confirmation of their surface contacts and friends.”

“Scary scar lady. She bring tribe from docks to camp. Scared soldier. He chain people who see us.” Shae opened his lizard maw to say something more but froze. His already scared eyes widened, darting back and forth. He looked at his investigators and then the walls. “And coven. Only Shamin talk to witches. Color feathers not allowed.”

“Color feathers?” Lukas raised an eyebrow.

“Color feathers. We serve grey feathers. They have magic. They lead.”

I was right. The colorful ones are the males, and they’re a matriarchal species. Are they born from dragons? Or are they hyenas?

His and the clones' research on wyrmkin wasn’t going as well as they hoped. The texts they copied spoke of genealogy, biology, history, and magic. Nothing he read explained their societal structure, culture, or customs. Either people weren’t interested in understanding the creatures in such a way, or the language barriers, distance, and secrecy made it impossible. Lukas strongly believed in exploring all avenues when sizing up his enemy. Understanding and empathy led to more victories than superior military or magical force.

As the interrogation continued, Lukas didn’t just listen to Shae’heed, but he studied his body language, inflections, and every other bit of information he could absorb. It was not an act. Shae appeared to be telling the truth. At the moment, he seemed more terrified of Bass and Penelope than the coven, Guard Captain Stefan Santana, or Kelpie. As far as he was concerned, they were all alive, getting along, and working together to cover their tracks. It wouldn’t surprise Lukas if the Elder Wyrmkin believed they were all alive and hunting for any survivors of his tribe.

What Lukas wanted the most was the identity of anyone in the tribe. Unfortunately, Shae knew nothing of the matter. Only the ‘grey feathers’ had the permission to interact with the coven. They rarely let the males deal with outsiders. There seemed to be no trust between the genders. One ruled. The other served. Lukas imagined the ‘colorful feathers’ spent most of their time and efforts striving to win the approval and favor of the females. Even now, even after he found out that the ‘Shamin’ was dead, he continued to speak of her and the others with reverence. It was ingrained in him. He knew nothing else.

“What should we do with him?” Penelope asked once the interrogation was over. They returned Shae’heed to his isolation chamber with water and a piece of raw steak. “The city council wants him. Having the clones surveil how everyone reacts might help us figure out if any of them are connected to the coven.”

“I think you should put him out of his misery,” Esther said. “Save him the torture and pain. They’re going to put him through the ringer to figure out what he knows or to ensure he never speaks.”

“I’m all for execution,” Bass stated. “We won’t have to worry about the perpetrators targeting us afterwards. Only a fool would think we didn’t interrogate Shae and uncover something before handing him over.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Penelope sighed. “Currently, they’re focusing on covering their tracks and ensuring no one else finds out about what happened. We’re a concern, but not one worth silencing. I wouldn’t be surprised if the coven and their agents aren’t watching us as we speak.”

“Everyone saw us exit the undercity with him,” Lukas interjected, finally speaking up. “If he were dead, we wouldn’t have tied and gagged him. The coven knows he’s in the city, and we have him. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had someone or something watching us right now.”

“They can’t infiltrate this place,” Esther said. “Not the coven. Not their familiars. None of them can listen in or touch Shae’heed in here.” Her attention focused on Lukas. “What are your thoughts on the lizard’s fate?”

“I think he’ll make a good pet.” Lukas nodded at Penelope. “Your pet.” Bass growled, but went ignored. “He knows the cults, understands Wyrmkin and their plots. We can use him.”

“We can’t trust him!” Bass protested, baring his teeth.

“From what I’ve seen and understand of these creatures, they need someone to serve. A powerful woman is what they need to feel secure. It seems ingrained in their culture in his very being. If Penelope can claim the role, treat him well, guide him, and fulfill him, he might end up being the most loyal, non-magically-bonded companion you’ll ever find.”

Everyone felt silent. They stared at Lukas and exchanged glances. Esther flashed a little smile, but Penelope and Bass appeared unsure. 

“Do you have your minions surveilling the neighborhood?” Esther asked.

Lukas nodded. “They’re all draped in Silencing Shadows and using Shadow Sight while constantly moving and occasionally flaring their arcane senses. They’ve neither seen, heard, nor sensed anything. Either the coven is great at what they do are keeping their distance, or have other means of surveilling us.”

“And what about around Nightingale’s Rest?”

“It’s business as usual,” Lukas answered. “You wouldn’t think anything is out of place or they’re concerned at all. If it weren’t for our feathery friend using the C-word, I would’ve still thought we were dealing with a lone mastermind.”

“It’s a coven for sure,” Esther said. “The Shadow Seekers have already launched and completed their first couple of probes. The signs are all there.”

“Are they ready?” Penelope asked, petting Bass, who had returned to his housecat form, and returned to her lap. “I’m recovered and ready. Long enough has passed for their guard to be down, but not so long that they’ve fled or erected some sort of defense. Witch magic is potent, but the downside is how long it takes ot prepare and how tied they are to lunar cycles, seasons, and times of day. The longer we wait, the worse it will be.”

“The Shadow Seekers are ready.” Esther pulled a piece of parchment out of her bosom and passed it to the sorcerer. “They’ve also picked out the perfect day.”

“Which is?” Lukas raised an eyebrow as Penelope read through the piece of paper. The way she looked at him suggested that he wasn’t going to be happy about it.

“I know you want to be involved, Lukas, but it's best if you’re not. I don’t know if they agree or if the timing is just perfect.”

Lukas sighed. “It’s the night of the auction, isn’t it?”

Esther nodded. “All the city’s important people will be there, and it's likely many will have a courtesan on their arm or waiting for them in a backroom. It’s the perfect time to raid the brothel.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” Lukas hated having choices and decisions taken out of his hands. He valued his agency. But he agreed. It indeed was the perfect time for such an operation.