160. Moving Operations (Patreon)

  Merlin was simultaneously the most disappointed and satisfied he had ever been since the first Arcane Chronicling clone was summoned. He was satisfied with all the progress he had made in the five days since El-Prime went down for his Mind Pillar’s ascension. The disappointment came from the dwindling magic reserves that forced him to work slowly or stop altogether. 

The Spell Garden was complete, sans the Spirit Glass. The Dome of Life also just needed glass panes to cover up the roof; then the base structure would be complete. He and the Spellweavers had carved the spellforms into all the walls but resisted filling them with Quicksilver. The room had no spellwork installed except the necessary formations for stabilization. 

Heart Chamber: 3% | +16%

Forge: -5%

Spell Garden: -15%

Dome of Life: -3%

The fortress’s magic generation had increased while cumulative drain had more or less stabilized. The only reason the stores weren’t empty was because the Spellweavers were passively feeding half the magic their meditation generated to the Fortress. 

Since construction couldn’t proceed, the clone worked on plans for the next construction priorities. The ritual room was of the greatest priority. Merlin had studied the black dragonfire over the past year and helpedMira develop a better understanding of it. Now, the knowledge helped put together a spellform for the isolation spell and the base spell circles that all rituals used. 

The room design started off as an ugly cone sitting atop the sphere, but all the clones collectively agreed that it was ugly. So, he made it bulge around the base before curving inwards.

“It looks like an artsy upside-down turnip,” one of the clones said.

“Really?” Merlin sighed. “I was going for old Turkish architecture. What I remember of El-Prime’s school trip, at least.”

“I still remember the spices from that trip. Forget weapons. Imagine how much money we could make selling lamb like that.”

“I heard that!” Eins called from the first floor. He had exited the Forge to work in the physical workshop since it reduced the room’s magic drain. He occasionally disappeared into the Shadowsteel Fortress, carrying in materials and all incomplete or unsold projects. They were gradually emptying the building of important objects and resources. There was no reason to keep them in the material world. “I’ll go on fucking strike if we stop selling weapons. No combat participation. Nothing.”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time,” the offending Spellweaver yelled back. He picked at El-Prime, lying motionless and vulnerable in the tub. “How long do you think he is going to be out?”

Merlin tapped into Attunement Library to convert strings of arcane energy into Reinforcement and Life Magic. He wove them together to create an eye-enhancement spell and to study El-Prime. “Another day or two. I think. It's impossible to tell for sure, but he seems much closer.”

“What is it?” Eins asked, sticking his head through the door at the top of the stairs. “Did the upgrade leave him with Arcane Exhaustion, too?”

“No. It's more like the shard is rewiring his brain to adjust for all the upgrades from Spellweaver. We were horrible at arcane projection. This is significantly improving our baseline. New neural pathways, magic channels, and whatnot.” Merlin had read and absorbed several books and journals on how ascensions affected the body. “Heart and Soul connect to something metaphysical. Hence, the ascensions aren’t as long. Body and Mind come with physical changes.”

“Will we be smarter afterward?” a Spellweaver asked.

“You’ll remember better,” Merlin explained. “Think faster. You might even consider more angles when tackling an issue.” It took him a moment to word things better. Merlin believed he would also benefit from the cerebral improvements that El-Prime enjoyed, but not Spellweaver’s passive improvements. That shard wasn’t part of him after all. He only inherited the passive effects of Altermetal Mass and Stormdragon’s Eye, and everything that came with Shadow Clone, including its conjunction ability with Spellweaver. “But how we look at things, think, and analyze things won’t directly change. It’s not the easiest subject to explain without getting into the jargon.”

“I appreciate that,” one of the other Spellweavers added. “Not delving into the jargon that is.” The clone wandered over and leaned over the desk with the plans. Most of Merlin’s notebooks, sketchbooks, and scrolls were already in the Fortress. He had made a corner of the Spell Garden his temporary office. “The towers are pretty. Are all of them supposed to look the same?”

“From the outside? Yes.” Merlin flipped to one of the other pages of the folder he had put together by tying together several lengths of parchment. He paused at one that showed a tower where the stairs only went halfway up. The rest of which contained nine pillars that extended all the way from the floor to the ceiling. “But each of them is different on the inside, depending on its purpose.” 

“Is this for Oberon?” The Spellweaver flipped to the next page. A spiral staircase went from the bottom of the tower to the top with several landings with different spell structures. At the top was a large floating crystal ball.

“Isn’t it perfect for him?” Merlin couldn’t help but sound proud. “It can work as a catalog of preset illusions for other clones to pick up.” He tapped the crystal ball. “This is where he will weave his Dreamfire spells. I isolated it so any outsiders invited to the central structure don’t wander in.” Merlin flipped through a couple of other pages. “I have a tower for Ace to store luck or whatever he steals and also weave divination spells. Finally, there is a private workspace for me.”

“Do you need one? The Spell Garden is perfect for whatever you do, and the library is in your head.”

Merlin ignored the question and moved on to the final room he had planned. It was a large ring atop which the central sphere would sit. “This is where we’ll let in most outsiders.” He tapped a raised section in the center. “Bowie has a stage. We have dining around it. In the back, we have a space set aside for the Gate Room. Pretty, isn’t it?”

“Absolutely gorgeous. I bet the Stalkers would appreciate a section for designing and playing with Shadowsteel constructs and eventually Shadowsilk.”

“We’ll get to that in time,” Merlin replied, unwilling to commit his tower to it. The clone wasn’t wrong. He didn’t need an exclusive space to call his own, but he would appreciate one very much. A good deal of the work he did required the ability to focus for long periods, and the lack of interruption and distractions would make his life infinitely better. “First, we need to figure out how to make permanent Shadowsteel constructs.” Merlin froze. He gave his brainwork a moment of consideration before flipping through the journals on his desk until he found the one dedicated to Shadow Step and the greater spells in the sequence. “Why didn’t I think of this before?”

“What is it?” a Spellweaver asked, leaning over Merlin’s shoulder. 

“I think I found the missing piece of the puzzle.” Merlin tapped on the complete Shadow Step’s spellform. “This section is dedicated to the temporary anchoring effect,” he explained, highlighting the section. He didn’t need the physical script. It was all stored in his mental library. Hard copies helped when testing multiple theories since writing things down was a part of his process. El-Prime and the other clones also greatly benefited from them since their brains didn’t work the same way. “El-Prime came up with the anchoring feature that lets him hop between shadows completely by accident. I used this script to make it an integral and permanent part of the spell. A little bit of tweaking and we could use it to permanently anchor a shadow construct to the material realm.”

“And that should also assist with the creation of Shadow Gates!” the Spellweaver exclaimed. “Am I right?”

“Spot on!” Merlin was ready to delve into the spellwork but caught himself. El-Prime had left him in charge, and it was not the time to get hyperfocused on a project. “Anyway. I’ll let you guys mull over this for a bit. The boss told me to check in on his lady from time to time.” He checked his pocketwatch. “And it’s time.”

“How is she doing?”

“Better but not all the way there.”

The ground floor appeared sparse. Only the materials Eins needed for his current project and the Portable Phoenix Forge were outside. All of the workshop’s remaining contents were already in the Forge. There were still a few months left in the rental agreement, and El-Prime had paid it in advance. It was unlikely they’d get full use out of it.

Things weren’t too different on the top floor. They had already emptied the study and removed all of the boss and Mira’s valuables from the property. Only their bedroom, clothes, and day-to-day needs remained. The door was ajar, but he knocked instead of sticking his head through. 

“Come in!” Mira called. Her smile faded when she saw the clone. “Is he not up yet?”

“Unfortunately, not,” Merlin replied. El-Prime had his means of letting her know that he was the real Lukas and not a clone. Merlin knew it too and had ensured, using Arcane Chronicling’s memory sorting powers, that none of the other clones inherited it. The boss trusted his clones, but it was to give Mira a greater sense of security. “But he should be up any day now. If it's not tomorrow morning, I’m sure the boss will be up and about by nightfall. How are you feeling? You seem far more—”

“With it?” She smiled, completing the thought. 

“That’s one way to put it. I was genuinely worried about you. We all were. That was more than just arcane exhaustion and burnout.”

“It feels like when I used to lose control of the black flames, and they’d eat through me. Mind and body.” Mira sighed, rolling her neck. “Give my thanks to whoever left the food. I woke up absolutely famished.”

“It was one of the Spellweavers,” Merlin told her. “And I believe that’s precisely what happened. “Arcane exhaustion combined with the overflow of dragonfire through your magic channels left serious damage. If it were anyone else or any other source, the damage would’ve been permanent. But it feels like your Pillars of Self evolved with the Confluence. The changes to your Body and Mind Pillar probably staved off permanent damage.”

“I can feel the changes,” Mira said, stroking the dragonling curled up in her lap. It lay motionless with one eye open and trained on Merlin. “It’s a shame your journal doesn’t work for me.”

“Ace’s brand of divination doesn’t do the job either. But that’s great. Are you fighting fit? Or do you need more rest?”

“My dragonfires feel like mere embers right now. They’re sucking up most of my energy, arcane and physical, to recover. On the bright side, my link and control to them feels much keener. Especially to the black flames.” Mira kissed her fingers and pressed them against the top of the dragonling’s head. “I have Nibbler to thank for that. My ability to summon and control both flames will be easier going forward. I get the feeling that channeling them through Nibbler will also come with significantly less stress and strain. He can bear the bulk of the burden for me.”

“If your Confluence is in any way as potent as ours, I imagine this is just the beginning,” Merlin called forth his wyrmling. It slithered out of his sleeve before climbing his arm and wrapping around his neck and shoulders like a scarf. “Morgana doesn’t feel in any way as smart as or magically gifted as Nibbler.”

“But she’s absolutely beautiful,” Mira said, clamping a hand down on Nibbler just as he stiffened. “Conjunction ability?”

Merlin nodded, but before he could answer, a stone flew through the window. His familiar moved at lightning speed, shooting forward and wrapping itself in sound magic. The air rippled along its serpent-like body, diverting the projectile. Meanwhile, Nibbler wriggled free of his summoner’s hold and spread his wings, eyes darting between the window and the other draconic creature in the room.

“Get to the basement!” Merlin exclaimed. “Now!”

“What is it?!” Mira demanded, scrambling out of bed and quickly pulling a robe over the slip she wore. 

Pink fire flared outside. An explosion followed.

“I don’t know, but that was a signal. We’re under attack.” Merlin rushed to the window. The building opposite the street was on fire, and Ace lay crushed under it. Despite the distance, he could feel the magic that formed his body starting to destabilize. Stalkers draped in Shade’s Mantle and hardened Shadowsteel plates fought just beyond it. The smoke and haze from the fire made it impossible to get a clear view of their opponents. “I need you to move. Swiftly.”

“What are you going to do?” Mira moved toward the door as her familiar grew larger. Instead of going for the window, it walked next to her, providing support.

“Buy you time,” Merlin answered, assembling a storm spell. He sent the Arcane Mind out of his body, instructing it to float over the streets. He needed a clearer view of the surroundings. The situation appeared as concerning as he initially thought. “There are people approaching the ground floor entrances. Oberon is slowing them, but I doubt he can keep it up for long.” 

Eins came bounding up the stairs, his heavy steps distinct from those of the other clones. He skidded to a stop outside the bedroom door. “Come with me if you want to live,” he said.

Instead of reprimanding the clone for quipping, Merlin unleashed his spell. It launched from the Arcane Mind, sending lightning directly at the approaching attackers. Much to his disappointment, they were far from accurate. Barely over a third of them hit their mark, but the bolts that struck arced toward the nearest target. 

Oberon launched a massive fireball that shaped itself into a crimson wyrm as it flew. His opponents charged through it, seemingly aware that it was an illusion. Of the four, one fell to a Shadowsteel javelin hidden among the flames. Another fell screaming as a black spike sprang from the shadow he had stepped onto, rising through his foot and into his shin.

It wasn’t the time to watch the battle. Merlin used the enemy’s confusion to get a clear look at them. Most looked like riffraff hired from a lesser guild. Their weapons and armor were shoddy, similar to what the attendees and fighters of the pits utilized. He saw some obvious shard abilities, and none were visually striking. However, they were strong, and there were many. Whoever had come for them was trying to overwhelm them with numbers and had the element of surprise.

“El-Prime will never let go of his paranoia at this rate,” Merlin grumbled, releasing another spell before following Mira and Eins. With the Arcane Mind in the air, there was no point in him staying on the second floor. He had tested the range before, and he’d have no trouble seeing through the projection from the basement. Its range was far from incredible but good enough.