156. An Arachnid Conference (Patreon)

“We haven’t seen you in a while,” Weaver stated, emerging from the thick webs that formed the Loom. His hairy body appeared fuzzier compared to the last time Lukas had seen it. Weaver didn’t allow the clones in his lair. If Lukas wished to talk or seek knowledge, he had to visit Weaver personally. “What brings you to our web?”

“The journal,” Lukas answered, calling it forth. “Breaking my connection to it feels more important than ever.”

“Elaborate.”

“The silver dragon stole a valuable artifact through it, which wasn’t outlined in the parameters of the assigned mission. I expressed my frustration and declared my decision to sever the connection between the journal and her. She’s offered upgrades to a Specialized Clone’s shard since. It’s potent but will cement her connection to us and the journal.”

“We wouldn’t expect anything less or different from a dragon,” Weaver said. The way some of his hairs vibrated almost made it look like an alternative to shaking one's head. “Especially from a cunning and conniving silver.” He moved closer, pedipalps twitching. All eight eyes took on a faint azure shimmer. “Yes. I see the threads connecting you to realms beyond Fracture. They’re thicker and brighter than they were during your last visit. But fading toward the old luminosity.”

“I have an interesting conjunction ability waiting for the clone,” Lukas continued. “It will give the clone a wyrmling familiar. I’m interested but worried it might be Silverspine trying to sneak one in.”

“What does the journal say?”

“It claims only the first was from her, but I'm not convinced.”

“Then, that’s the truth. The Keeper of Knowledge created the relic, and Maka Dee encountered it. The great spider attempted to change the journal’s nature. She succeeded in granting it sentience, but not the freedom of dishonesty. If it says only the one ability was the Great Silver Dragon’s handiwork, it’s the truth.”

“That’s a relief.” Lukas sighed. He locked in the picks for Merlin’s upgrade. “Now, onto what to do with the journal.”

“Do you wish to get rid of it or only sever the connection to your former master?” Weaver moved closer, pausing a couple of feet away. Half the eyes broke away from Lukas to a patch of webs nearby. Two of his front legs dexterously worked the section. He removed unnecessary silk, making the section neater.

“The latter, but failing that, I’d rather deal with the challenges of getting rid of it for good. I’m currently low on clones, but on reaching tier four, I wouldn’t mind investing in clones that fill the hole. I’d need one with telepathy for long-range communication and another for identification and ability progression purposes. It’s a lot of work and will cost me time and resources, but it's a small cost to pay if it results in forever severing my connection to Silverspine.”

“We feel severing the connection to the journal is almost within your capability,” Weaver interrupted. “Once your Mind ability ascends to the next tier and your Confluence is a bit stronger, you should have no trouble at all.”

Lukas hadn’t told the alien spider about the Shadowsteel Fortress or Spellweaver’s rank, but he wasn’t surprised. Weaver didn’t need the Loom to discern such things. As far as Lukas could tell, Weaver’s inhuman sensory abilities rivaled those of a Greater Being. Penelope claimed that he was physically weak but one of the most potent diviners and mages in existence. 

Thanks to the four Spellweavers assisting Merlin around the clock and the complexity of the Fortress’s construction, the ability had reached the ninth rank. Lukas hoped their efforts would help him reach the breakthrough soon. He already had an essence ready for the ascension. 

“Destruction would be significantly easier. You’ve had access to the necessary resources for quite some time?”

“Mira’s black dragonflames?”

“Indeed. It’s one of the few things in existence capable of utterly destroying a soulbound object.”

“But it would be a waste to destroy the creation of a Greater Being.” Lukas sighed.

“The Keeper of Knowledge is much more than that. He is a primordial god of seeking and preserving knowledge. My mistress claims he has survived the birth and death of multiple universes, much like the Void Engine, and seeks to hinder entities like it. The journals were created for his soldiers. The Seekers of Knowledge.”

“Would I be linked to Keeper after freeing the journal?”

“No. The connection was severed for good. It would be free. However, without the connection to a greater entity, the journal might lose the power to grow.” Weaver moved away from Lukas, all of his eyes now studying the surrounding webs. Smaller spiders moved freely among them, adding to the silk or working them into intricate patterns. Despite several visits, Lukas couldn't make heads or tails of them. “What will you do?”

“If the possibility of severing the connection is so close, I think I’ll try that first,” Lukas answered. “Thank you for your counsel. I expect all of this will remain secret from Penelope and the Conclave.”

“We do not serve them,” Weaver said, sounding amused. “We’ve told you that before. We share information, and they help spread Maka Dee’s reach. If Penelope knew about your journal’s origins, she’d ensure the Conclave was involved. You’d end up in service to them, but their resources would’ve probably help sever the connection to the Great Silver Dragon.”

“I’d rather not trade one master for another. Would you be able to assist me with the severance ritual? Or at least point me toward where to look.”

“We cannot and will not assist you. This action will draw the Great Silver Dragon’s wrath, and we can't draw attention to ourselves or have her discover our existence. The kingdom knows of our existence and name, but nothing more. Only the Conclave knows the truth of our existence. However, I shall freely provide advice.” The eight arachnid eyes refocused on Lukas. “First, you need an arcanically isolated space where the journal’s connection to its master is interrupted.”

“It’s on the agenda,” Lukas said. “I explored designs when developing a cage for Mira’s black dragonfire. I intend to use it to build a ritual chamber atop the Fortress’s central structure. The issue is I don’t know how to proceed from there.”

“You can use a ritual to help you sense the soul tether connecting the journal to you and the dragon. Then, it’s a matter of manipulating the threads and carefully tying them off before trimming strays and loose ends. It’s not our area of expertise. You’ve dealt with witches before. Studying their magic will help you find what you need.”

“Soul magic.” Lukas frowned. It was what made witches such a threat to him. Their hexes and curses bound themselves to the souls of their target. The clones could help him avoid the physical discomfort, but if something clung to the soul fragment within them, Lukas would be stuck with the arcane ailments. “I knew there would be no escaping it. I imagine it will be like surgery. Severing the soul tethers and arcane strings won’t be enough. I’ll need to ensure nothing and no one else can unravel or manipulate them.”

“Indeed. Your thought process is correct. The idea is simple, but execution will be anything but. You’re an interesting specimen and would be perfect as a champion of Maka Dee. But—”

“I appreciate it. But the only entity I wish to serve is myself. 

“We can foresee you growing your Confluence into a city and turning it into a haven for people like you. Entities like us.”

“That’s an intriguing idea.” Lukas laughed, but the possibility intrigued him. He had read of realms created by godlike beings who drew power from the quantity of entities worshiping them and the purity of their faith.

“It’s not a laughing matter. Soulspaces and pocket universes are how arcane realms and domains are born.” Weaver moved to a particularly thick section of the giant web. It was so dense that Lukas could no longer see through it. A thick curtain of white appeared to stretch between the pillars. “You might not end up as destructive or arcanically powerful as Mira or as durable as Xander, but there is more to power than your ability to cause or avoid death.”

“I doubt either will be a challenge, but I’m trying to build a future where conflict can be kept to a minimum. If necessary, the clones can be out fighting in my stead.”

“But that’s not going to happen,” Weaver said. “Given how often you unnecessarily endanger yourself, it's apparent you love the thrill that comes with getting your hands dirty.”

“At least I don’t actively seek out such situations anymore,” Lukas replied. “I can’t deny enjoying the thrill, but I’m not suicidal.”

“We’ll know for sure once your Soul Pillar ascends again.”

“What would happen to my soul space and people in it if I died?” Lukas couldn't help but circle back to the idea of housing people within the Fortress. As long as he made the crucial areas inaccessible, he didn't see an issue with the idea. The promise to help Astrid’s Jotun tribe evacuate the mountains had left Morph stuck away from the city. Granting them temporary shelter in a fortress would help them escape the frozen lands of their ancestors and the kingdom without leaving a trail. “Would they be stuck forever? Would they die?”

“If it's a stable space not reliant on you for energy, it will persist indefinitely. Whether the inhabitants can leave or not will depend on how you design the entrance and exit. We imagine that currently only you and the clones can enter it using your Intent.”

“That's correct.” Lukas was considering a Shadow Gate tower but had decided to make it a part of the base level where Bowie would perform. Now that he thought about it, it would also make for an excellent entrance hall.

Weaver climbed up into the dark ceiling using the webs and pillars. His movements were swift and graceful. It almost looked like watching a ballerina doing their dance. He disappeared from sight, and seconds later, a swarm of smaller spiders descended, carrying a thick tome. They dropped it at Lukas’s feet. The arcane aura radiating from them turned his stomach. He could tell at a glance that it was bound with cured human skin.

“This should help you get started,” Weaver said, his voice echoing from the darkness above. Lukas had long given up on trying to see through them. Shadowsight failed to penetrate the magical black. “Beware. A good deal of the magic within is as harmful to the user’s soul as it is to the target. They draw from forces from abyssal, infernal, and Void realms.”

“Thank you,” Lukas stated, picking it up carefully. If Weaver didn’t ban clones from the Loom, he wouldn’t have touched it. “I appreciate the help and counsel. Is there anything I can do for you? Our relationship feels largely one-sided.”

“There is, in fact. My days in this land are numbered.”

“Why? Do you foresee the kingdom at war?”

“Not just kingdom. Fracture as a whole. The probability of the Wyrmkin cults succeeding and reigniting the age of dragons is climbing. Our Loom needs a new home. A spire dedicated to it in the Shadowsteel Fortress and your clones’ information-gathering abilities are an incredible combination.”

“Of course.” Lukas smiled. “But I hope this won’t mean I’m tying myself to your Maka Dee.”

“She’ll be thankful for your assistance, and we’ll ensure her heralds, clerics, and champions look upon you favorably,” Weaver replied, his voice echoing through the Loom. “But no. This is a personal request and won't tie you to the Webbed Mistress. We understand you’re worried about the Conclave and how they function. Their actions and path also concern me. This move will also allow me to sever my connection to them.”

“I’m your disappearance plan.”

“Exactly. Was there anything else you had in mind?”

“Yes. I sent a clone to Tortuga. It was killed rather efficiently. Maybe this is me being paranoid, but it almost feels like the murderer had the perfect tools for tracking him.”

“Like they were prepared. You're wondering if it was coincidental or by design?”

“I've made enough enemies and would understand if it happened here or in Iskander,” Lukas replied. “But we've never been to the Grey. No one knows the depth of my secret except Mira and a trusted friend. Penelope knows even less, and you know more than all of them.”

“There is one other who knows everything about you.” When Weaver spoke, the sound now seemed to come from all around Lukas, like infinite tiny voices were all talking at once. “She knows your truth and has the unavoidable means to look in and track. What if it's her or one of her rivals who can trace her arcane signature on Fracture?”

“I didn't think of that.” Lukas frowned. It was too early to jump to conclusions, but the possibility was undeniable. He couldn't discount the fact that one of the Great Dragons had given their followers the means to track Silverspine's unique signature. He didn't want to believe it was his former master.

Or was it a warning for looking for ways to sever all ties? Could the Silver Dragonfire be a bribe and means to cement her hold, and if I reject it she sends assassins after me? Does she have more idiots like me, or is there also a Cult of the Great Silver Dragon?

Lukas and Weaver spoke for a while longer, discussing their issues with the Conclave. The Spider also provided his insights on the Elder Wyrmkin issue and the Jotun. Lukas struggled to concentrate. His mind kept returning to the now growing questions. Lukas told himself that it was unlikely. Lady Silverspine had wiped his memories. He wasn't a threat. At the same time, she was a spiteful dragon. He remembered nothing of her interests, but knew what she was capable of. And if it wasn't her, there was probably another dragon cult now pursuing him, and they had the means of using the journal or traces of Silverspine's magic or presence to track him.

Time was now of the essence. He needed to hasten the construction of the Shadowsteel Fortress and Spellweaver’s ascension.