154. The Marvels Of Dragonfire (Patreon)

No matter how hard Mira tried, she failed to create a wolf-shaped living construct out of her dragonfire. They all adopted smoky avian forms that lasted a handful of seconds before dissolving. It took several demonstrations for Lukas to realize why they looked so familiar. All her creations appeared to default to a body shape not too different from that of a silver dragon: long, slender, and elegant, with wing scales that almost appeared feathery. The long snout tapered, making it resemble a beak.

Dragonfire, much like all magic, was alive, but it seemed to have a greater sense of self. Merlin theorized that it wished to adopt the form of its originator. When Mira attempted a draconic form not too different from the shape the constructs naturally adopted, they lasted significantly longer. More importantly, the summon appear far more stable without smoky diffusions that resulted in their magic leaking away.

It took several days to perfect the spellform for the construct’s frame. It was no bigger than a housecat, but that was more because of the magic demands of experimentation. Mira considered upscaling an easy feat. She didn’t intend to create a swarm, preferring a single powerful companion that functioned similarly to Bass.

The next stage involved creating a power source. Initially, Lukas intended to create an energy core identical to the Shadowsteel Fortress’s power source. But then he and Mira came across a curious occurrence while creating a suspension cage for the blackflames. They started with a vacuum and then used electromagnetic fields to lock the sphere in a spiral path, ensuring it never made contact with the Quicksilver cage and the energy flowing through it. 

The task took several weeks and resulted in several accidents, which left the basement floor covered in gouges and pockmarks. When they finally succeeded, the pair were glad to discover that the blackfire sphere had the energy to run perpetually as long as it didn’t encounter any stimuli. Material, energy, and will had the power to cause destabilization, and Mira’s design had successfully isolated them from everything as long as the cage maintained power. She had little trouble whipping together a script that gathered ambient energy and efficiently fed it through the Quicksilver buckyball, ensuring that lightning continued to flow through it. The end result involved an arcane structure that rotated at such speeds it almost blurred into nothing. 

An odd occurrence followed. The blackfire that seemed to consume all began to gradually emit pure, unadulterated magic, leading Lukas to question the little that was known about Erazure and the originator. 

The Void Engine relied on the birth of universes, the technological development of its inhabitants, and then eventual heat death to feed and grow. Lukas couldn’t help but question whether its connection to the Great Black Dragon and access to its flame was more than happenstance. 

During his time on Earth, Lukas was a voracious reader, resulting in an eclectic collection of knowledge. Not all of what he remembered or understood was accurate, but when it came to magic, Understanding and Intent were a more potent combination than Law alone. He recalled that black holes didn’t just consume matter or light. They stored all the information that entered them, and they gradually released it back into the cosmos. 

“What if the black flames are no different?” He asked Mira after explaining the concept. “They consume all not to return everything to the nothing prior to all existence, but for fuel and information for a new birth and start? The Void Engine relies on the cycle of birth and heat death. The black dragon might be a crucial part of it all.

“I’m not sure I understand,” Mira said. “Do you mean an unstable flame consumes, and the stable emits?”

Lukas shrugged. “I might be talking out of my butt and far from what is reality.” His eyes refused to leave the floating structure before him. “This is just a rationalization of why there is pure, unattuned arcane energy flowing out of this thing. We were far from achieving equilibrium between the cage’s magic consumption and your gathering script’s production. Now, this thing is emitting magic while the sphere isn’t diminishing. Where is it coming from?”

“Maybe you’re overthinking things? If your Draconic Storm Energy core can become an energy source, maybe blackfire is capable of the same. What if this is the power of dragonfire in general and not the nature of the dragon that produced it? The only thing that differs is the volume of magic a living flamesource produces?”

“Perhaps you’re right. We just know so little about the Great Black Dragon and its fire besides the destructive power of Erazure. I’m just trying to rationalize what we’re seeing and figure out new uses for it. Put it in your construct. Let’s see what happens.”

“What if the dragonfire has a will of its own and it takes over the construct?” Mira’s eyes betrayed her fear. Lukas had gathered that she was terrified of the black fire. He didn’t blame her. It had almost killed her, after all. “The last thing I want is for it to go berserk like Morph did with Rakan’s scale. Imagine the havoc an out-of-control Erazure can do.”

“You have me to help take it out. Given all of the failures we’ve dealt with, breaking through and destabilizing the cage is an easy feat. We just have to ensure our test dragons are flimsy.”

“Right. Disrupting the suspension field should cause the blackfire to consume the dragon.”

“And the act of consumption should deplete the blackfire’s energy,” Lukas stated. “You’ve come too far to be afraid of failure. We need to push through this phase. Nothing is permanent yet. Whatever lesson we learn will help perfect your final version. Even then, whatever you make a permanent part of yourself will have ample room to grow and change. Perhaps not to the same degree as my Confluence, but you can always tweak and improve parts of the spellform as your mastery and understanding of the black dragon fire improve.”

“I wouldn’t dare to try half of the things I do if not for you.” Mira sighed.

The cage and sphere within were no larger than Lukas’s fist. Mira created a draconic construct around it as big as the local oversized housecats. Any smaller and the cage’s edges would collide with the construct’s exterior walls. It took several minutes and intense concentration to bond the cage to the creature. Mira faltered several times, resulting in her work-in-progress summoned creature dissolving. Lukas didn’t interfere, let her overcome the struggles alone. He was a bystander and assistant. Mira wished for something that would remove her dependence on others for survival, and he intended to let her achieve it alone.

When the two finally came together, the transformation was instant. The construct lost its wispiness, gaining the same translucent solidity and sharpness as the products of Mira’s fortification magic. The Quicksilver cage’s rotations slowed marginally, and Lukas witnessed the dragonfire assimilate it. Much to his relief, the sphere of black flames remained suspended within. Spiraling around the cage’s axis and never making contact with the sides. Then, black leaked into the extremities, primarily the four limbs and wing tips. They say inert, floating between two layers of silver and not making any contact.

The base constructs usually did little besides fly in circles around the basement. It occasionally trotted along the floor, pausing to rub its flanks along the sides of Penelope's legs. The creature had an affectionate calmness about it. Meanwhile, the new entity sped around the room on all fours erratically as a spooked cat that had ice-cold water poured on its back and head. It occasionally staggered, throwing its sides into the pillars, and almost ran into Lukas’s right leg. The creature lost its translucence as it moved. The luminosity and shimmer followed. Only the wings and spines retained the silver luster. Dark accents marked where the black flames resided.

“Stop,” Mira commanded when the shock left her. 

Much to Lukas’s surprise, the creature complied. It raised its head, revealing eyes as black as night. As soon as they met, Mira’s knees gave way, and she collapsed. Lukas rushed to assist her, but she gestured for him to stay away. 

“I can feel it. Him. In my head.” Mira clutched her chest. Her breathing seemed erratic. It took every bit of willpower Lukas could muster not to help her. She reached out to the life she had created with her free hand, and it pressed its head into the open palm. A flash of energy flowed between them. “He's a part of me now,” Mira panted as she spoke. “I hear his thoughts. His confusion. His hunger. He can feel mine.”

The little silver-grey dragon lost its solidity before flowing into Mira’s hand. When her hands and knees gave way, Lukas was there to catch her. 

“You did it,” Lukas said, helping Mira roll onto her back and then into an upright position. When her balance faltered, he provided support. “You created a stable summon.”

“It's more than that,” she said after taking a moment to catch her breath. “He didn't give me a choice. My Confluence ability. He's a part of it now.”

“Does that mean you can't—” Lukas's words fell on deaf ears. Mira was fast asleep. Exhaustion and the mental strain had taken her.

The strength that came with a tier-three body ascension proved sufficient for carrying Mira out of the basement and up into their bedroom on the second floor. Lukas tucked her in before preparing a hot water bottle. Her skin felt cold, and she started to shiver as soon as Lukas put her down. Mira had pushed herself to the point of mental and arcane exhaustion.

The dragonling Mira had constructed felt as real as Bass. Lukas had felt its arcane signature and presence for only a handful of moments, but both felt unique and vastly different from Mira’s. It was more than a mere summon. The dragonfires and her will had given it life. She had created life from nothing.

After slipping the hot water bottle under the covers, Lukas left her a glass and a pitcher of water before slipping out of the room. Her accomplishment astounded him, and he couldn't begin to fathom how her shard abilities and dragonfires had come together to form a unique consciousness. He hoped it would be obedient and tied to Mira the same way Bass was to Penelope. The creature felt weak, but he was sure that with nurturing, it would turn it into a devastating battlefield asset.

Him. She called the dragonling a him.

Lukas looked inward for a moment. The Spell Garden’s foundation was complete. Merlin continued to apply the final spell forms that would stabilize it and reduce the drain on the heart. Meanwhile, the Spellweavers were working together on a structure dedicated to the Shadow Step spell. Instantly casting his most demanding spells with reduced costs and mental stress would be an immense boon for Lukas and the clones. Currently, Lukas's confluence wasn't as game-changing or flashy as Mira’s. Given the power the clones granted, he believed quality of life improvements across the board would make things easier and better for everyone. The real benefit would come when Lukas gained the power to draw the Shadowsteel Fortress into the material world or doom foes into it. Eins was already working on designs for coilgun turrets for the walls. Lukas loved the idea of having them emerge from the shadows and firing projectiles that tore his enemies to shreds.

If Mira can provide silver dragonfire to make mock spirit glasses, could she help integrate black dragonfire too?

Lukas had instructed Merlin to design a fifth room that sat at the crest of the sphere. He specifically wanted an isolated space that severed all connections to the outside, including the rest of his soul space. 

“What's it for, boss?” the clone had asked, looking over the designs. “Wouldn't it be better to make the ritual room have better connectivity than any other space?”

“I want the opposite of connectivity,” Lukas had replied. “We need a space where the journal and Silverspine can't communicate. I don't know how we're going to do it, but we need to ensure no arcane signature can escape. It's the only way we can start on severing the bond between them.”

Lady Silverspine’s laughter echoed in his mind. She, apparently, found it amusing that he wanted to sever all connections between them. The Great Silver Dragon didn't think it possible. Lukas planned on proving her wrong.

“You're going to need Mira for this, boss. Perhaps also Penelope—’

“No. There is no telling if Penelope will ever betray us to the Conclave, and I'd like to minimize reasons for her to do so. She doesn't know about the journal’s origins or connections, and we need to keep it that way.”

“What about Weaver? He knows the journal better than anyone.”

Weaver had proven himself a neutral party. He worked with the Conclave and wasn't a part of it. He had deduced and divined several truths about Lukas but had kept them to himself. The giant spider felt trustworthy. So, after checking on Mira once again, he called Eins out of the fortress into the material world.

“I need you to watch the property and protect Mira,” Lukas told him. “There is no telling what kind of arcane signal her Confluence face-off and whether our wards contained it.”

“Say less, boss.” Merlin had successfully connected the Forge to Eins’s armory ability. The clone materialized armor and weapons from the shadows and equipped them in the blink of an eye. “I got this. If anything happens, I'll ensure Merlin and the weaver squad hear me.”

“Thank you,” Lukas said, sparing the bedroom door a wary glance. He didn't feel right leaving Mira in a vulnerable position, but he couldn't wait. Lukas took a step towards the door before a sudden jolt brought him to a stop. “Huh.”

“All good, boss?” Eins asked.

“It's Oberon,” Lukas said, scouring the influx of memories. It was all a messy jumble. He had grown too used to letting Merlin sort through them. 

“Did the lazy bastard dispel himself?”

Lukas shook his head. “He was killed. Rather brutally. And I think efficiently.”

“Given his antics, it was a matter of time, don’t you think? He pushes his luck a bit too much, I think.”

“This was different,” Lukas said thoughtfully, focusing on the details.

“How?”

“The attacker saw through the Shade’s Mantle and ended things almost instantly. I think. Illusory clones didn't help.”

“Strange.”

“Indeed. I'll put Merlin on it tomorrow.” Lukas rolled his neck. It had been a while since he looked at a clone’s demise closely. The pain hit him like an old, distant ache. “Take care of things here,” he said, exiting the building. The empty clone slot went to a Stalker who immediately ascended to the roofs to keep watch. 

Did he get careless, or was it something more?