Chapter 112: Clones At Work |
“Rolls that add up to four or multiples of four are bad news, boss,” the new clone said. Playing with a pair of black metallic dice. Gold studs planted on all the sides served as the number markers. “Don’t ask me why. You probably read somewhere that in some cultures, four is a bad omen or something of the sort. And the dice have decided they’re bad news.”
“And your instincts tell you that?” Lukas asked, taking notes. He recalled a summer trip to China following his first year at university. During it, he had learned that culturally, the number four represented misfortune. Lukas had never followed up or studied the reason or validity of the statement. Now he wondered whether Chinese mythos also had influence on Fracture, adding to the world’s Arcane Laws. Or, Intent and memories affected how shard abilities manifested.
The clone nodded. “It’s weird. Things and concepts radiate good and bad vibes, telling me what will turn out well for me and what won’t. It's stronger with the dice.”
“1,32,22,63,13,54,4
“That’s nine possible combinations out of thirty-six, which are potentially bad, and 27 which are good.”
“Excellent or neutral,” the clone corrected.
“What do you mean by neutral?” Lukas frowned. “A neutral roll won’t do anything?”
The clone shrugged. “I can’t be sure without testing, boss. It’s a weapon. Bad rolls, it will fail, sometimes spectacularly, harming me. Neutral rolls it will do as intended. Excellent rolls will be a spectacular success. My instincts tell me that’s snake eyes and rolls that add up to seven.”
“1,11,62,53,44,35,26,1”
“Seven possible excellent rolls. This is interesting, to say the least. Get testing.” Lukas raised a hand when the clone faced the metal sheet-covered wall in the workshop and started shaking the dice in his cupped right hand. “Not here, idiot, especially when we don’t know how poorly things can turn out. Go across the river. Far from the city. Keep testing and practising until you die or run out of magic.”
“What about the luck-stealing and burning sides of my magic? Don’t you want me testing those too, boss?”
“I do, but later. Maybe we’ll start in one of the small underground gambling dens in the mining district. I can’t field you in combat until we understand that weapon of yours.”
“Got it.”
Lukas returned his attention to the spellscript in front of him. He wanted a lingering Shadowfire spell infused with fear to use with Spellweaver’s new warding feature. It was likely to pair brilliantly with Shadow Illusion, which he had a couple of mage clones practising around the clock. Since it was part of a shard ability and not a spell, the spindle couldn’t create them. However, it had no issue turning simple spells into wards.
Maybe Stitch can use abilities that are inherent parts of Spellweaver, but not conjunction abilities? Or his skill level needs to improve.
The familiar worked tirelessly, weaving until it ran out of thread. Then, it hung around slowly regenerating them. Lukas could dispel and resummon it, restoring magical stores, but it cost him dearly, consuming an eighth of his maximum stores. On the bright side, Stitch’s speed had improved significantly over the past few days. He was almost as fast as Lukas with shadow spells and not far behind with the rest.
They already had simple sound and lightning traps to work with. They were immediate-discharge spells, using modified touch-magic scripts. It was enough for the time being, but Lukas hoped to develop something more complicated. Lingering effects of either attunement were bound to debilitate anyone stuck within. Power could be altered to also make them lethal.
“I think if we use my luck during the finishing process, we could come out with a much better result,” a clone said, breaking Lukas’s focus. The voice dripped with unwarranted levels of confidence and enthusiasm. He turned around to find the Fortune’s Favor clone hovering around Eins and Zwei as the pair worked on the opposite end of the workshop. “Letting me be part of the process should be enough. My magic is amazing. I promise.”
“Why are you still here?” Lukas asked. “You have your instructions.”
“You didn’t give me a name, boss.” The clone grinned, leaning against the wall. He flicked a dice as if he were tossing a coin and snatched it out of the air when it fell. “You can’t expect one of us super special clones to function without a name. It's tied directly to productivity, don’t you know?” He paused, glancing at the two crafting clones. The clone snatched a furry skullcap off the nearby surface, pulled it on, and checked his reflection on a polished metal helmet. He grimaced before removing it. “And it better not be Drei.”
“Fine.” Lukas sighed. “Gambit would be too on the nose. Fluke is too close to Flukas.. How about Whale?” The clone grimaced. “Or Fish. Like Big Fish, but we can spell it with a Y so you feel special.”
“That’s cruel, boss,” Eins stated, looking up from the hammer head he was working on. “And mean.”
“Please don’t call me Fysh,” the clone begged. Another nearby hat caught his attention. “Ooo, that might be nice.” He skipped over and tried on the ear-covering trapper crap. The clone crinkled his nose after checking his reflection. “Unfortunate. But no. Please not Fysh.”
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“Or do.” Zwei laughed. “It’s hilarious.” He nudged the clone. “You okay, Fysh?”
“Don’t do this to me, boss. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“How about Lucky?” Eins asked.
“How about you limit your creativity to metalwork?” Zwei rolled his eyes dramatically. “It doesn’t shine anywhere else.”
“What do you want to be called?” Lukas crossed his arms, staring down the clone. He had started off annoyed, but the banter now amused him.
“How about Jack? It’s got a bit of danger to it. I could find girls named Rose to charm—”
“I like the card theme, but not Jack,” Lukas interrupted, leaning back in his chair until it stood only on its back two legs. “Since I might send you into gambling dens and casinos from time to time, we’ll go with Ace.”
“That’s creative, boss.” Zwei’s words dripped with sarcasm. His attention returned to the in-development enchantment script.
“It’s cool,” Ace said, beaming. He looked down his nose at Zwei. “Call me anything else and I’ll throw my dice at you, Number Two. Good roll or bad—”
“If that’s settled, can you please fuck off?” Lukas interrupted.
“On it.” Ace pranced out of the workshop, flamboyantly waving at the others and saluting Lukas.
He’s going to be a nuisance. I can feel it. Why the fuck do these morons have to have personalities and quirks?
“You shouldn’t entertain that kind of behavior, boss,” Zwei said. “It sets a bad precedent.”
“What was that, Number Two?” Lukas asked. Zwei didn’t answer. “I thought so.” He glanced at the new wall clock. “Aren’t you due at Irma’s soon?”
Zwei nodded. “Just finishing this up first, boss. I’d like to show her my work.”
___________________
Morph didn’t like his new accessory. Given his collection of abilities and style, they felt unnecessary. However, El-Prime had insisted he carry the trinket at all times. Much to his delight, it wasn’t a weapon or piece of armor. Either would directly conflict with Biomancy.
The Amulet of Thermalwarding hung from his neck, attached to a light steel chain. Thunderseeker’s passive effect protected him from lightning and sound. But it did nothing against extreme temperatures. The cold made Morph’s tissue stiff. He had also overheated in his flesh exosuit, which resulted in him losing consciousness and the Void flesh taking over. The trinket was valuable and likely to help while in and around the Gray, but he hoped to develop skills or organs to help alleviate such issues.
El-Prime insisted that Morph carried the amulet because of the newly purchased Essence of Survival hidden within. Its arcane signature would ensure that other summoners, golemancers, and vivomancers didn’t identify him as a clone, assuming Ogden wasn’t misleading him. The interaction had made El-Prime paranoid.
It’s useful, but I hate needing it.
Ever since Biomancy reached the second tier, Morph had started to feel a strange arcane signature within himself. It was almost too small to detect, and El-Prime hadn’t dispelled him in a while and was therefore ignorant of the development. The clone suspected it was life magic; Biomancy had come from a shard involving Vivomancy, after all. The Essence of Animancy might’ve also awakened the attunement. Morph believed that if he could tap into it, he’d become truly unstoppable.
First of all, life magic would give him the power to heal damaged tissue, reinforce parts of his physiology, and, more importantly, grow his own biomass. Healers had to train extensively so their life magic didn’t go wild and mutate their patients, leading to the development of tumors and cancer. That wasn’t an issue for Morph. It was all biomass to him, waiting to be reshaped into armor, limbs, or more.
Then there were the side effects of life magic, namely regeneration. Xander’s use of it to heat himself and create steam screens was brilliant, and Morph hoped to recreate it. Body-heat regulation excited him the most. It would be a significant improvement in quality of life.
“Come, come!” Xander waved cheerfully as Morph walked into the Aquila training grounds. “Everyone is expecting you.”
“Are you sure this is enough?” Morph asked. He glanced up at the balcony overlooking one of the many courtyards in the complex. Guild members casually stood and conversed, occasionally glancing down at individuals sparring or training in the area. Arcane Scan suggested there were energy signatures that had long ascended to tier four. “I don’t need to have an interview or anything of the sort?”
“You were scouted,” Xander stated matter-of-factly.
“And that makes a difference?”
“Of course. Interviews are for people who want us and our resources. We want you, your expertise, and experience. It makes a big difference.” Xander grinned. “Besides, when you fight shoulder to shoulder with Xander, Master of the Shield, you get special privileges.”
“And is listening to you talk in the third person a part of guild duties or privileges?”
Xander laughed. “You'll fit right in. The leadership is keen to recruit individuals with experience against the Void. Appearances of Voidlings and their cults have increased over the last couple of years.” The man led Lukas to the empty circle at the center of the courtyard. All sparring pairs stayed out of it, sticking closer to the walls. “Interviews won't be necessary since I want you as a party member alongside Mira, as opposed to a regular guild member.”
“And what does working with you involve? What is your role in the guild? I've seen you involved in a variety of missions now, and the pattern isn’t clear.”
“Aquila has teams who work exclusively with other guild members or take on jobs involving our interests and assets. I prefer jobs related to the Union or city, which require working with other organizations, like the Frozen Phoenix and Shadow Seekers.”
“And allows you to poach members from them,” Morph added.
“Precisely. It also helps me do good for the region. Guild agendas often consider the bigger picture, encompassing the kingdom, continent, or other chapters. I prefer keeping my focus local.” Xander removed the shields slung across his back and strapped them to his forearms. One was a perfect circle with a chain of saw teeth attached to the rim. The other had a cut-out crescent which appeared sharpened. “Although I don't pursue Shadow Seekers. Ogden gets testy, and we prefer staying on their good side.”
“Sneak said the guild leadership was a grumpy bunch who needed to unclench.” Morph glanced up at the balcony above. The buildings surrounding the courtyard shielded it from the frigid winds that swept over the Gray’s foothills. However, the temperature was still a touch too low for him. If not for the new amulet, he was sure his joints would’ve started to stiffen and flesh freeze. His skin rippled as biomass hidden in shadows turned into new bones and muscles that extended from his spine, around the ribs, and developed into a second set of arms. The growth helped warm his body. “Are we just going to stand around, or are we going to spar?”
“Await the signal. The chapter council wants to see you in action before approving the membership. They’re suspicious. You’re new to the city and part of a guild we’re taking apart and cannibalizing. There are trust issues.”
Steam rose from Xander’s skin as he drew on the mote of life energy within, encouraging the biomass to grow. He gained height and width, swelling to increase his range, strength, and toughness. It was clear Xander wasn’t going to hold back. The clone also kissed the string tied around his wrist. A warbeast’s tooth hung from it. New organs slowly grew in his chest.
“I just hope you’re ready, Xander,” Morph said. “It would be a pity if you got hurt.”
“I encourage you to try.” Xander smiled encouragingly. “I’m sure the higher-ups will approve the signing bonus if you succeed.”
